She moves faster, small sounds leaking from her lips going straight to my gut. My abdomen tightens, and the release I’ve been trying hard to hold off swirls at the ready.

I grip her hips and fight the urge to slam her down on me, to impale her over and over until she screams my name. My teeth clench. It’s too much. The combination of what’s going on below my waist is outnumbered by what’s going on above.

“Mouse, baby—”

“Harder.”

Yes! I push up to sitting and thrust my hips, practically tossing her off me. She holds onto my shoulders and I take over the pace. Every thrust threatens to shatter my strength and send my orgasm rocketing through me.

Her head falls forward, and she hides her face in my neck.

“You’re safe with me. Always.” I nip at her shoulder. “Don’t hide it from me, sweetheart.” I feel her body tighten around mine. “Show me.”

She pulls back and peeks up at me. “Blake… I…”

“Let go.”

She calls out my name in a combination of a gasp and a growl. The sound pushes my orgasm to the surface, but I hold it back. Her body convulses around me. Burying me deep, she falls apart in my arms. Her fingers pinch into my biceps, holding on to me just as tightly as I am her. I lean back and drop kisses against her parted lips as she rides out her release. With her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes drifting closed, she rolls against me and drops her head to the side on a moan.

Gorgeously sated and relaxed, my strong, amazing woman who has been dragging sexual baggage along with her for over sixteen years just fell apart in my arms. My ribcage feels too small to contain the enormous amount of pride that is surging and billowing behind it. I flip her to her back, the one thing I told myself I shouldn’t do, and put myself on top of her.

“You did it, baby. And fuck me, that shit was insanely hot. You’re not broken, you’re perfect.” I need to make sure that her being pinned beneath me doesn’t bring back old memories. “You okay?”

She gives me a lazy smile, and glides her hands up over my shoulders to my neck. “Yeah.”

I rock into her and grind down. “Good, because I’m not finished with you yet.”

She moans and arches her back. Unable to take another second away from her lips, I lean on my elbow and devour her mouth.

Our bodies move together, the pace growing more frantic. Her legs wrap and lock around my hips. Hands and lips move, exploring in a frenzied loss of control. She rips her mouth from mine and moans so deep I feel it in my dick.

And I’m gone.

I lock my eyes on hers. My breath rasps as I push and pull through my orgasm. The tension in my muscles dissolves, along with everything else in the world. Worry and concern for what just happened between us becomes non-existent. The only thing that that means anything is lying beneath me, eyes closed, and a soft smile, on her lips. And she’s all fucking mine.

“Mouse, I’m…” I’m what? Falling for you. Crazy about you? In lo—no. Right?

“Wow, now I see why you’re so popular with the ladies.”

What the fuck? How can she even think about me with other women after what we just did?

I roll off her, hoping to hell she didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Throwing my legs over the edge of the bed, I give her my back and toss the condom into the small trashcan by my bed.

“I can’t believe I had an orgasm.” She giggles behind me. “You, Mr. Daniels, are quite talented.”

I’m not at all happy with the carefree sound in her voice. That single sexual experience shook the foundation of every fucking thing I thought I knew. And here she’s laughing like it meant nothing more than an orgasm.

I grab my board shorts from off the ground and slide them on. “Yeah, that was fun.” That’s all I can say?

“Fun? That was amazing.” I hear the sound of rustling sheets as she moves around the bed. She’s probably looking for her clothes, but I can’t bring myself to look back at her. “I’ve never felt anything like that before. Now I know why women throw themselves at you.”

Fuck. What just happened here?

I shake my head and pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to get my bearings.

“You okay? You have a headache or something?” Her concerned voice is right next to me.

I open my eyes to see her dressed in her pants with her hands covering her naked breasts.

“Headache. Probably from the sun.” Bullshit. But whatever.

“What time is it? I should probably get home.”

I cannot fucking believe this shit.

Moving up from the bed, I snag a shirt and slip on my shoes. “Sure, let’s get you home.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

No, I’m sure as shit not okay. “Fine. You ready?”

She nods and moves past me. I don’t follow her right away, but instead stare at my bed. Minutes ago, that place held so much promise, a possible future. Life altering shit. But now, the bed is empty, and the sheets are twisted, just like my insides feel.

She’s downplaying our experience and putting me back into the asshole player category she had me in when we met. Reducing her worth into nothing more than a meaningless one-night-stand, with nothing to show for it but—in her words—a goopy condom in my trashcan.

Nineteen

Layla

I can’t believe it happened. It finally happened! With a man—a gorgeous man—for the first time. Ever.

I’m floating on the high of post-orgasm bliss and empowerment. To add celebration to my sex-high, I didn’t hear Stewart’s voice in my head one time. Blake’s verbal affirmations drown out Stewart’s internal assaults. Is it possible that this could be a breakthrough to my healing?

It’s all so new. A sexual relationship on my terms. Not born out of duty or obligation, but choice. Breathing deep, a grin curls my lips. I haven’t been able to wipe it from my face since… sigh…

My body’s still humming. The memory of what he did with his hands, his mouth, his—wow. A wave of arousal rolls through my body. After we finished, I wasn’t thinking clearly. If I had, I’d have asked for a round two.

I guess it’s best that I didn’t. He was quiet on the drive home and didn’t walk me to my door like he usually does. He said he had a headache, but something tells me it’s more than that. So caught up in my sexual achievement, I didn’t slow down long enough to think about how sleeping with his boss’s assistant might affect him. Or maybe it was the C-section scar that freaked him out? Oh no! What if he thinks I’m horrible in bed? Insecurity washes over me. What if he regrets having sex with me?

“I’m heading out.” Elle strolls into the kitchen, where I’m eating peanut butter out of the jar.

I shake away the direction of my thoughts and focus on my daughter. “No, you’re not.” Licking my spoon, I dig in for another bite.

She slides into the seat across from me. I notice she doesn’t have all that dark makeup on, and she’s wearing a shirt that covers most of her skin. “Mom, I know I totally messed up, and you probably don’t trust me to make good choices.”

I nod. She’s got that right.

“I’ve been hanging out with a new girl at school. She’s friends with Killian. Her number’s on the fridge.” She points to the pink Post-it note stuck to the freezer door. “Her name is Cara, and her mom’s name is Suzanne. I put her mom’s cell number up there too.”

I swing my gaze from the Post-it to Elle. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

She leans back in her chair. “Call her. Call her mom. They’ll tell you.”

Narrowing my eyes at her, I lean in and point my peanut butter spoon in her face. “If you’re not lying, then tell me what your plans are. I’ll call Suzanne and cross-reference your story with hers. If it checks out, you’re free to go.”

“We’re going to the school play and then to have pizza with some friends in the drama department. Killian will be there. And if it’s cool with you, Cara said I could stay the night.”

I hop up and dial Suzanne’s number into my cell phone. After a very pleasant conversation with Cara’s mom, I decide that Elle is telling the truth.

“Okay, your story checks out. You can go, but you have to promise to call me before you go to bed.”

Elle claps her hands and jumps up from her seat. “I will, I promise.” She moves over to me and wraps me in a bear hug.

I hug her back as hard as I can and hope it communicates how much I love her and how proud I am that she was honest with me. “I love you, Axelle.”

She pulls back and studies me, her eyebrows pinched together. “You never call me that. I mean, unless you’re pissed.”

I shrug and twirl a piece of her silky hair between my fingers. “I know, but it’s your name. I should call you that.”

Slinging her backpack over her shoulder, she gives me one last hug. Cara shows up a few minutes later to pick her up. She seems like a nice girl, clean cut without a hint of rebellion. After waving the girls off, I go to my room and pull on tube socks that go up to my knees, a cozy pair of shorty-shorts, and a long-sleeved tee. I move into the living room and flop on the couch with the remote.

Seven at night on a Saturday and I’m channel surfing. Alone. Fabulous.

A couple of really bad reality television shows later, I’m wide awake and staring at the clock. What’s a girl to do on a Saturday night all alone? My eyes drift to the clock again. I’d go see if Mac was at The Blackout but don’t feel like getting ready.