The Anniversary Gift (Re-Connections) (6 page)

BOOK: The Anniversary Gift (Re-Connections)
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“Look at me,” I reply.

He opens his eyes and we gaze at each other as the rocking movement increases. I feel lost in his gaze and tears run down my cheeks, even though I don’t realize I’ve begun to cry.

He lifts a hand to my face and thumbs a falling tear away and then places that thumb in his mouth.
Of everything we have done together, that one gesture breaks me and the tears increase by their own measure.

“Hush
, baby,” he soothes and holds me close as we continue to rock back and forth and my tears slowly begin to fade.

“I love you,” I tell him, knowing it is true within each cell of my body.
The tenderness I feel for him softens everything inside of me, even as my body begins to tighten.

“I love you too,”
he replies, and I can feel how true that is for him. I lean my head back, pulling his head down to mine, needing his kiss in a most desperate way.

“Your lips are so very soft,” he murmurs against them and continues to kiss me until the quickening inside my body has me gasping for breath.

“Come for me,” he whispers, and I shatter into a million pieces right there on his lap. Almost instantly, he shatters too and then all movement stops as we cling to each other, holding on tight to the love we feel for one another in that moment.

Still inside of me, he rolls me onto my back
, moving his weight onto me, unwilling to disconnect. We lay that way forever, gently kissing and whispering love words until I fall asleep.

Sometime later, into the night, I wake to find a sleeping
Ethan wrapped around me. The candles have burned out and the music has stopped and all is quiet in the room with the exception of his soft breathing. I fall asleep again.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

T-Minus Five Days to Anniversary…

 

Light streams into the window, teasing my eyes with its glow. I’m not ready to get up yet, not ready to remove myself from the circle of Ethan’s arms. He’s spooned up behind me and I feel his morning erection at my back. I smile as I quickly decide on how to wake him.

Reaching down between my legs, I touch myself and find
I’m still very wet from our love making of last night. As quietly as I can, I adjust my bottom, moving up his still sleeping body until my entrance aligns just right. Reaching behind me, I pull his erection downward so that I can push him into me, groaning as he slides right in. He stirs, and moans, as his length slips inside of my wetness and I push myself backwards so that he fills me completely.

His
arms tighten around me and pull me back hard against him as he begins rotating and thrusting his hips. One hand slips to my belly, pressing into my stomach, pushing me backwards and onto his arousal more fully. The pressure of his hand, the fullness of him inside of me creates a buildup that feels so amazingly good. We rock like this for a few minutes, slowly, back and forth, in and out, around and around until we both tense and then release as orgasm shakes through us both quietly.

He kiss
es my hair.

“Good morning,” he says.

“Good morning.” I wiggle back into him further. He’s still inside of me, and I don’t want him to slip out. I feel his lips in my hair.

“We better get up if we still want to go out on the boat,” he reminds me.
As excited as I am to be spending time with friends on the water, the idea of moving away from him isn’t appealing.

As I
pull away, feeling him slide from me, his warmth leaving my body, I turn and hold onto him tight.

“Let’s go
,” I say and race him to the shower.

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

It’s a beautiful day to be boating, and my friend Amy’s boat is perfect for such a large gathering of people. Four other couples have joined us. Amy, of course, along with Renee and another close friend Melanie are all there with their spouses. Another couple, Jake and Rebecca are new to our group, friends of Melanie’s from out of town.

After a swim, the girls are all gathered on deck, sunning
ourselves, when Renee blurts out, “Well … how was the Tantra?”

All eyes turn to me
, and I’m contemplating jumping overboard when Rebecca chimes in with a, “Tantra, how fun!”

The warm and interested look in her eyes set
s me at ease. Any friend of Melanie’s is a friend of mine, and I relax. “A. May. Zing.” I highlight each syllable as I close my eyes in remembrance.

When I open them, all eyes are on me and each face is grinning ear to ear as I share our erotic weekend and how close we are becoming.

“Does he still want a threesome?” questions Amy, and I nearly pull the towel over my head.

“A threesome?”
Rebecca and Melanie ask in unison.

Amy saves me by giving a brief synopsis of my situation, and my husband
’s unusual anniversary request.

“Have you found a partner yet
?” asks Rebecca with a small smile on her lips. “I hope you will consider me.”

Four
sets of eyes turn to her, and her grin widens. “Jake and I have a very open relationship.”

Oh my.

I look closely at her and feel myself squirming in my seat. Could it be her? She is certainly beautiful; she certainly has a wonderful body; she is fun and intelligent and … perfect.

Doubt clouds my mind.
She’s much more perfect than me. What if she joins our bed and Ethan desires her more? Can I handle watching him kiss her? Can I watch him thrusting into her? What do I do during those times, sit back and watch?

Rebecca’s face falls as she sees the doubt cross my own.
“It’s ok, pretend I didn’t ask; it’s ok if you aren’t attracted to me.”

My mouth falls open and I sputter, completely at a loss.
“Oh Rebecca, it isn’t that at all. I was actually worried that he might …” I trail off, unable to finish the sentence.

“Like her more?” Melanie
completes it for me and grasps my hand in support.

I nod silently, my greatest fear verbalized.
I’m also still stunned that this beautiful woman across from me would have doubts about herself as well. Do all women look at themselves in the mirror so critically? Do we all share a commonality of insecurity? Do we all simply try to hold it all together with a Superwoman’s cape?

I think that we probably do.

We all have layers of our personalities that are sculpted by our life experiences.
We all have The Bitch in Our Head, who needles at us and attempts to hold us back. We all have hopes and dreams as well as the doubts and fears that try to keep us from them.

“Hope is the only thing stronger than fear
.” The Hunger Game quote comes into my mind.

I look at Rebecca, feeling my face soften with compassion.
“I can’t imagine anyone more perfect to share that experience with than you.”

We sit in silence for a moment, not an uncomfortable one as the subject matter might call for.
I love my friends so much for that acceptance, for being open to whatever is needed in my life. A tear falls down my cheek, and I glance around and say “Hell, I’ll screw all of you!” just to break the ice. We all laugh and the moment is over. Amy begins to share her red bag stories, and we are soon enthralled with the nights of passion she and her husband have shared.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

Her blond hair hangs into my face as she raises herself above me, looking down into my face. “You’re lovely,” she says and leans down to touch her lips to mine. The softness of her mouth is my undoing, and I ease my arms around her, deepening the kiss. Her tongue enters my mouth and meets mine as her hips begin a gentle grind into me. She rotates and circles them as our pubic bones mesh together.

“Open your legs,” she says
, and I do as she bids. She begins a downward descent, lips and tongue tracing a path down my body. Between my legs, she stops and, gazing into my eyes, allows her mouth to descend. She watches my face contort into ecstasy as her tongue meets my flesh. She grins at me, a one-sided tilt of her mouth and her eyes narrow into a look that is beyond sexy. She lowers her tongue again, this time twirling it around my clitoris and then licking down to slip inside. She continues this path … twirl, down, inside, up, twirl … over and over.

“I can’t believe you’ve never allowed a woman to kiss you like this,” she whispers.
“Are you glad that you are allowing me?”

I nod my head a quick yes and then throw it back as she pushes her tongue inside me once again.
With her hands, she widens my legs, pushing my thighs upward to allow her easier access.

“Hold onto your knees,” she requests, and I do as she says.
The twirl, down, in, up continues, and she slips her hands beneath my bottom. She lifts me up, and then allows her tongue to move lower. Oh my … down past the perineum and down, to circle the puckered flesh of my ass.

“No!” I moan but she ignores me and her tongue pushes into me
… there. Oh yes … the sensation is pure evil, so unexpected yet so … good. Oh my … she moves her tongue in and out of this tight, tight entrance and I realize I don’t want her to stop.

“Yes!” I breathe and I feel her mouth grin against me, as she realizes my total submission.
I’ll do anything she wants now … anything at all, if only she will continue this ministration. Both hands are in her hair, urging her not to stop. She finally raises her head and moves up onto her knees, kneeling between my legs. She inserts her pinky finger into her mouth and then lowers it to where her mouth had been. She circles that tight hole and begins the slow process of pressing it inside. I began to fill up, squeezing her small digit with my tightness, feeling the tiniest bit of pain. She brings two fingers of her other hand to her mouth and sucks on those fingers too, and then slowly and deliberately lowers them until they are barely inside of my sex.  I’m filled up … everywhere and soon those two fingers join the rhythm of the one below and I’m overflowing with sensation and my climax is immediate.

The gentle hand on my shoulder awakens me
, and I realized I have been dozing off on my lounge chair. The sway of the boat as it rocks back and forth has relaxed me, and I’m so very glad my large sunglasses cover the look of mortification in my eyes. My hand has slipped between my legs, and I have been caressing myself in my sleep. Ethan grins really big at me. “Dreaming of me?” he asks. I lie with a nod of my head. How can I tell him I was thinking of Rebecca between my legs, the gorgeous blonde sunning herself in the other chair? I grin a shy smile at him. Rebecca is certainly at the top of my very short list.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

T-Minus Four Days to Anniversary…

 

It can’t possibly be Monday morning, but my alarm clock insists that it is. Shutting it off, I reach out for Ethan but find his space empty and cold. Faintly, I hear some rattling come from downstairs and curiosity pulls me out of bed.


Ethan,” I call out.

“Just a minute, don’t come down yet.”

“Ok, do I have time to shower?”

With his consent, I run to the shower and bathe myself quickly.
I fly through my morning routine and dress without close thought to what I would wear.

“Ready?”

“Come on down,” he says, and I practically bounce down the stairs. Entering the kitchen, the first thing I notice is the absolute and completely horrendous mess…everywhere. Ethan is standing there, apron on and flour all over his hands, arms and face.

He looks so
adorable, I can only giggle at his wide smile of pride. He has made me breakfast, with pancakes, bacon and orange juice. I’m in total awe of how a simple meal can create such a terrible mess, but I’m thrilled that he tried.

“It looks delicious
.” I grin and walk into his arms. I don’t care that I’ll need to change clothes. I can’t resist him in this moment.

After breakfast, I quickly change and then head to the office with a smile
that won’t stop creeping onto my face. This has been the best week of my life, better than our honeymoon even, because back then I didn’t understand how easily those feelings could be gone.

I’m proud of myself.
I’m proud of Ethan. I’m proud of the couple we are becoming. It may not be traditional, I’m quite sure June Cleaver wouldn’t agree, but it appears to be working. I couldn’t be more pleased.

On the boat yesterday, Melanie pulled me aside and asked me quietly if I would really go through with the threesome.
I looked her straight in the eye and said, “Yes.” Although she nodded her head, I could see the concern in her eye.

“Trust
yourself,” she said. ‘Make sure that if you choose this path, it is the right one for you. And do it with no regrets, no matter the outcome.”

My very wise Melanie
; she always knows what to say, allowing me to come to my own conclusion by asking the absolutely right questions.

I’
m still smiling, this time at how lucky I am to have such a large web of support when I walk into my office, sit down at my desk and get to work.

A few hours into my workday, my phone beeps
, letting me know that a text message has arrived.

Ethan
:
Hi

Me:
Hi

Ethan
: I need you.

Me:
I need you too. Inside of me. Beside me. I need you on top of me. Under me. I need to be in the same room as you.

As I type in this message, my stomach begins a delicious
tightening, and I pause for just a second before hitting the “send” button. I’m sexting. A first!

Ethan
:
I need that. I want your naked body wrapped around me. I need to be inside you, kissing you passionately, hands in your hair.

Me:
Yes. Please. I need you with an urgency that is painful.

Ethan
:
I want to whisper in your ear. I want to lick your lips. I want to bite your nipples. I want to make love to you. I want your flesh against mine.

Me:
Yes, I want those things too. What do you whisper to me, as we are making love? What are you saying to me? Tell me. I will imagine that your mouth is against my ear, whispering those words.

Ethan
:
I would tell you how much I enjoy you. How much you mean to me. How I cherish the time with you.

Me:
I hear you. As you are moving in and out of me, filling me up, I hear you say those words. As I'm wrapped around you, welcoming you into me, I hear them. I feel the warmth of your breath in my hair. And I feel how much you care for me.

Ethan
:
I hope you feel it, the feelings I have for you. In your heart, your mind and your body.

Me:
I do feel it. Everywhere. I want you to feel mine too, I want to show you how much you mean to me.

Ethan
:
Tell me what you like.

I pause for a moment. Goodness, what do I like? In a moment, my thumbs begin to fly over the screen:

Me:
First, I like how your tongue feels against mine. I like how it flicks out when you kiss my neck. I like the trail of it down my breasts. Circling my nipples.

I hit “send” but then continue to type rapidly.

Me:
Most of all, I like the moment when it licks up and down my sex, circling my clit and putting pressure on me there. Or maybe my favorite is when it is inside of me, moving in and out.

I hit “send” again, loving the idea of making him wait.

Me:
And of course I love when you move back up my body, and kiss me again. Your flavor mixed with mine, and your tongue enters my mouth just as you enter my body and I'm filled up by you.

Me:
You’re moving in and out, filling me and pressing against that place that takes my breath. Everything in me is clenching you, welcoming you, never wanting you to leave. I feel myself begin to come, in a way that only you can create. A building up of sensation, a tightening of pleasure. As the length of you is accepted into me, I explode into an orgasm that leaves me helpless.

Me:
You hold me thru my orgasm, allowing me time to recover from the power of it and then begin to move again. In and out, hard and then slow. Pulling most of the way out and circling. And then into me again. Your weight presses down on me while your body pushes into me and the combination of those sensations are so powerful, so beautiful.

Ethan
:
Oh god, Kate, I crave you. I want all of that, I want more, I want everything. I need you. I need to be inside of you. I need to be beside of you. I need you on top of me. I need you under me. I need to be in the same room as you, breathing the same air. I love you baby, so much.

Me:
I love you. I love the man you are. I love how you make me feel. I love how we are together.

Ethan
:
And Mr. Hyde?

Me:
LOL! I love him too, he’s welcome any time.

Ethan
:
Why did it take ten years to become this comfortable with each other?

Me:
I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I was busy making mistakes, and learning from them, and growing and becoming the woman worthy of your love.

Ethan
:
I don’t deserve you, but I want to. I promise that I will not stop, that I will not fall back into the comfort zone I was in. I promise.

Me:
I promise the same to you.

Ethan
:
Meet me tonight, at six, at the Silver Roof.

Me:
Yes

Ethan
:
Perfect. See you then.

Me:
See you then.

Placing my phone back down onto my desk,
my Inner Goddess is wrapping her arms around herself in delight. The Silver Roof is one of the most romantic and intimate restaurants in the area. We had talked about going, but somehow never had.

The work day dragged
. The clock was playing mean games, and I wondered if time really was standing still. Finally, at 4:30, I decide to leave, giving a wave and a, “See ya tomorrow,” to my assistant. I drive home quickly, wanting to shower and shave and primp for my big date with my husband.

An hour later, I’m groomed, silky soft, smelling sexy and have pulled on the red cocktail dress I’d bought, but had not yet worn.
My high black sandals would have to do, so would my small black clutch. My budding excitement is momentary doused as “boring” creeps back into my thoughts. I really do need to go shopping for new clothes.

Driving to the Silver Roof, anticipation begins to build inside me and I caution myself not to expect too much.
I’ve learned that expectation can cause sadness; no man can read our minds. I’ve fallen into that trap too often, and pull back my enthusiasm just a bit.

Walking into the restaurant, my eyes search
the tables for my man. He isn’t here; at least I don’t see him and glance down at my watch. Five till six; still a little early. I follow the host to our waiting table.

Twenty minutes later, still sipping on wine, still sitting alone, my phone flashes with an “
on my way
” message that makes me grind my teeth. I hate being late, am usually early and Ethan knows how I feel about punctuality, we’ve argued about it enough at least.  I try to be sympathetic to his lateness and focus on the many positive things I love about him.

Ten minutes later, then fifteen, twenty…I find myself standing and heading toward the door.
I’m so mad. Like the song says, “I shaved my legs for this,” only to be stood up by my chronically late husband, who was once again “lost in the details” of his work. If the past can predict the future, he’ll not be home for hours. Once ten minutes late, he’s hours late; it’s always the same.

Instead of being mad, I find myself simply sad, sad that I don’t matter enough for him to show up on time.
Intellectually, I know this isn’t about me. He is late for everything; it is a running joke in his family. We have argued enough about it, how selfish I feel his lack of punctuality is, how disrespectful it is to others. It doesn’t change.

Sad.
And ready to go, home to a bath and then bed. My appetite is gone, for food and the sex I felt sure that was to follow. I push the door outward and into my husband. The metal catches him square in the forehead, and he bounces backwards in surprise, clasping his forehead while trying to stay on his feet.

I stare at him, feeling my anger and sadness swell and then fade at his comical expression
.

“Don’t leave
. I’m so sorry that I’m late,” he says and I want to stay mad but am simply unable to do so with the red mark on his face.

“No need to beat a dead horse
; you know how I feel about being on time,” I reply. “I’m not angry, just sad and tired and I want to go home.”

I give him a quick kiss on the cheek, because I really do love this man, and then turn to the lot where I had parked.

He pulls me around, wraps his arms around me and lifts his hands into my hair, gently pulling my head back to look at him. “I’m sorry, Kate, I truly am. I don’t know why I become so thoughtless, so distracted. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day long, to eating dinner with you and then making love with you. I daydreamed so much that I simply lost track of time. Again.”

I’m melting
, and my mind is whirling with what to do. Forgive and forget? Or create consequences?


Forgive him, you’re not his mother,” says my Inner Goddess.

I close my ears to the tirade I know the Bitch is about to begin.

“I tell you what. I really don’t want to go back inside, but I want dinner and I desperately want you inside of me.”

His pupils dilate further, eclipsing the iris
es of his eyes, and I know I have his attention.


If you will pick up take-out, a bottle of wine and meet me back home in 30 minutes sharp…our date is still on.”

“Well then, let’s
synchronize our watches,” he says, lifting my wrist and matching my time to the clock on his phone. “On your mark, set, go!” He bounds away back toward his truck, leaving me standing there watching his retreating back. The slam of the door and the squeal of his tires make me laugh and I turn away to walk more slowly to the SUV, wishing I had called to him to be safe.

Back home, I decide to leave my dress on but
gather as many candles as I can find, turning the lights down low, setting the scene to seductive.

With four minutes to spare, I see headlights through the windows and melt with absolute delight.
I open the door, and welcome my beaming husband with a kiss.

 

BOOK: The Anniversary Gift (Re-Connections)
9.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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