Five Days Until You Page 10

  “Stop.” She slaps my chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of my T-shirt before she gives it a little tug. “Put those lips of yours to good use and kiss me instead,” she murmurs, her gaze dropping to my mouth.

  I do as she asks, sinking into her parted lips, swallowing the sweet sigh that escapes her. I cup the back of her head, thread my fingers into her hair, messing up that already messy top knot and I put my whole self into the kiss with plenty of tongue until we finally break apart, the both of us breathless.

  “Did that meet your approval?” I ask her, my voice low, my thoughts dirty. Maybe we could put her dorm bed to proper use one last time before she leaves. A sort of goodbye, bon voyage, sayonara to Santa Augustina State.

  “Most definitely. Now let’s grab those boxes and get out of here,” she says as she reaches up and touches my face, her fingers gentle on my cheek. “I want to go home,” she admits in a whisper.

  Perfect. There’s no place I’d rather be.

  It’s late. I should be exhausted. But it feels too good to be back in the bed I share with Owen, his arms around me, my head resting on his bare chest. We’re naked, our skin damp with cooling sweat, our hearts racing in matched time. I roll my cheek against his skin, press my lips to the center of his chest, his heartbeat thumping hard beneath my mouth.

  He curls his fingers around the back of my neck, a sigh of pure male satisfaction escaping him. “Don’t tell me you want to go another round.”

  I start to giggle. And I’m not a giggler. “Maybe,” I tell him, lifting up so I can look at him. He’s watching me, the moonlight filtering in from the cracked open blinds gilding his features in silver. His eyes are bright, his hair a complete mess about his head and there’s stubble lining his jaw and cheeks.

  He’s never looked sexier. He’s so freaking big. When did he get so big? How many more muscles can this man add to his already muscular body? He felt so good earlier, pressing against me, pressing me straight into the mattress as he slid inside my body. The first gasp that falls from my lips when he touches me in that one particular spot never fails to make him flash me that knowing, arrogant smile. He has such complete mastery of my body and he knows it.

  Owen knows just what to do to make me wild.

  He’d murmured something filthy in my ear all while he thrust inside me. How wet I was. How good I felt. How hard his cock was, just for me. Only for me. He kept up those words the entire time he made love to me, his hands everywhere, his calloused fingertips making my skin tingle. Until I was coming and he was coming and that happened only a few minutes ago—our third orgasm of the night.

  Wade was smart enough to make himself scarce tonight and I appreciate that. So does Owen. We wanted no interruptions. Just the two of us back together in our house, in our bed.

  Where I belong.

  “I’m exhausted, woman,” Owen says, breathing deep and making his chest rise. I drop another kiss, on his pec this time, and his fingers tighten around my neck, hauling me up so that my mouth is on his. “Let’s sleep first,” he murmurs against my lips. “We have all the time in the world to do this, now that you’re back.”

  He’s right. I like hearing him say that. Now that you’re back.

  And I am most definitely back. He couldn’t get rid of me if he tried.

  “Okay,” I whisper just as he kisses me. It’s like he can’t stop kissing me. Touching me. He asked me on the drive back home, if I felt like I was giving up everything just to be with him.

  I told him no. I’m not giving up anything because I’m doing what I want. And right now, more than anything, I want to be here. With him. Standing by his side. Supporting him. I can make my own path while we’re here. He has one more year of school and then we’ll see where all of this takes him next. That’s not giving up on my dreams.

  That’s recreating my dreams so they include him—they’re our dreams, not just his or mine.

  “I love you, Chels,” he murmurs as he tucks me into his side, my head on his shoulder, his mouth at my forehead. “I never say it enough.”

  “You don’t have to—” I start but he cuts me off.

  “I do. I need to say it more. Just know…” His voice drifts and I wait, my heart in my throat, my entire body rigid with anticipation. “Just know it means a lot to me, that you’re here. I’m so fucking thankful to have you in my life. No matter what happens, as long as I have you by my side, I know everything’s going to be all right.”

  I lift my head, blinking back the tears. “I love you.” My throat is raw with emotion and I can barely get the words out.

  “I love you, too.” He touches my face, his fingers sliding across my cheek, touching my lips. “Don’t cry baby. This is a good thing.”

  I start to laugh, the tears falling down my cheeks freely. “I’m crying because I’m happy.”

  “Oh. Well, then cry all you want.” He streaks his thumb across my skin, catching a few tears, the faintest smile curling his beautiful, perfect lips. “I’ll be here to dry your tears.”

  I know without a doubt that he will.

  Check out the following bonus feature – Christmas with Drew, Fable, Owen and Chelsea! (This short story first appeared on monicamurphyauthor.com December 2014)

  “Your brother is making me crazy.”

  Fable turns to look at me, a frown on her pretty—and weary looking—face. “Oh, give him a break. He’s nervous about his gift for Chelsea.”

  Yeah, I know all about it. He’s talked about that ring endlessly any time we’re alone together since they arrived this morning and I should be more understanding, right? I was the same exact way when I gave Fable her ring years ago. Owen gave me endless grief for being a “nervous asshole,” is what I think he called me, and now here I am, dying to do the same thing to him.

  But I hold my tongue. It’s bad enough, watching him pace around the living room like an edgy cat ready to attack. I finally had to make my escape in search of Fable and found her in the baby’s room, checking in on our son as he lay sleeping in his crib.

  She’s tired and running on little rest, but she’s still just as beautiful as the day I met her, maybe even more so. But Autumn and Jacob keep her busy. My girl needs some down time.

  I have just the solution.

  “Why are you staring at him?” I ask as I approach her from behind, slipping my arms around her waist and resting my chin on her shoulder.

  I can feel her smile as she keeps her gaze locked on our sleeping son. I watch him too. He may be a little angel now, but he’ll wake up in a few hours in the middle of the night, howling for his mama to feed him. “Because he’s beautiful. And I can’t believe he’s ours. He looks just like you, Drew.”

  There’s no denying he’s my boy, I will agree with that. The hair color is the same as are the eyes. His features are all mine…he’ll most likely grow up looking exactly like me.

  “Funny looking then?” I joke, earning a jab from Fable’s sharp elbow right in my gut. “Ow.”

  “Shh. You’ll wake him,” she whispers as she reaches out and brushes her fingers over his fine, dark brown hair. He’s chubby, well fed and content, with a loud cry and a louder laugh. Autumn both adores and wants to maim her baby brother, all at once. The girl is a whirlwind of movement, always on the go, never stopping for longer than a minute, always wanting in on the action.

  I can imagine Fable acting just like that as a child, before everything went to shit and she became responsible for her little brother. And eventually, her good for nothing mother.

  But it’s not right to speak—or think—ill of the dead, so I’ll stop.

  “Come on.” I take Fable’s hand and lead her out of the baby’s room, straight into our bedroom, where I close and lock the door behind her just before I push her against the solid wood. “Where’s Autumn?” I ask before I make my move. I need confirmation that there will be no interruptions.

  “She went to bed a half hour ago,” Fable says, her gaze narrowing. “Why?”

&n
bsp; “Just making sure.” I rest my hands on her shoulders and lean in for a kiss just as she tips her head up, our mouths meeting in perfect alignment.

  The kiss deepens quickly and everything within me tightens. I want her. Always. I got home yesterday after a brutal game that sent us right out of the playoffs, and Christmas is in two days. I’m feeling like shit over the loss and need some comfort…comfort only Fable can offer me. Owen and Chelsea are here and I love having them with us for the holidays, but I need some private time with my wife.

  “Are you trying to get in my pants, Drew Callahan?” she asks breathlessly when I break the kiss moments later to run my lips down the length of her neck.

  “What gives you that idea?” I mutter against the spot where her pulse thumps mightily at the base of her throat. I lick and nibble her skin, feel the shiver move through her body and I know I’m going to get what I want. What I need.

  Fable.

  She rests her hands on my hips and pulls me closer. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that we’ve kissed for two seconds and you’re already hard as a rock?” She runs her hand down the front of my jeans and I moan against her neck.

  “I’ve missed you, baby,” I whisper just before I lift my head and kiss her again, thrusting my tongue deep as I press her against the door. Her hands go for the button on my jeans, fingers fumbling as she undoes it and slides the zipper down. “It’s been a shitty week,” I mutter when I break away from her delicious lips again.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmurs as she delves a hand inside my boxer briefs and grasps me firmly. “I know how to make it better.”

  “That’s what I’m counting on.” I slide her yoga pants down past her hips, taking her panties with them, getting her naked below the waist in seconds. She kicks the pants away from her feet impatiently as she shoves at my jeans and underwear. I lift her, and her legs wrap around my waist.

  “Is the door locked?” she asks the moment I slide inside her, her gaze locked on mine, her breath hitching when I go deep.

  “Yeah.” I kiss her, feel my jeans fall past my ass, my underwear tight around my thighs as I begin to move inside my wife. I’m fucking her against a wall like the impatient ass I am, but I don’t care. I don’t think she really cares either.

  That it’s still so good between us…so perfect, blows my mind. Since the minute I let her into my fucked up world and she accepted me anyway, I knew we were made for each other.

  It’s stolen moments like this one that only confirms it.

  I gave up pacing the living room floor a while ago, after Fable and Drew disappeared. I don’t even want to know what they’re doing right now. I can figure it out and…no. I feel like a jerky little kid thinking this, but those two are so obsessed with each other, it’s kind of disgusting.

  And okay fine, it’s nice that they still act this way. I’m glad Fable found someone who loves her so much, who treats her so well, who accepted me so readily. I’m a lucky bastard.

  An even luckier bastard who has a pretty girl of his own and is about to either make it an epic Christmas by giving her a diamond ring or make it a shitty Christmas if she refuses it.

  Hell, she better not refuse it.

  Chelsea’s curled up in an overstuffed chair that sits by the Christmas tree, her head bent over a book, her long dark hair obscuring her face. My fingers itch to tuck it behind her ear and stroke her cheek. Whisper for her to follow me back to my old bedroom so I can get her naked, but I don’t do any of that.

  Instead I sit on the couch and stare at her, glancing away when she looks up so she won’t catch me, pretending to watch whatever’s on TV. Which is some crap holiday movie about a fake girlfriend for Christmas. Something Fable was watching earlier, which blows my mind because she’s not usually the sappy Hallmark Channel type.

  “Uncle Owen?”

  I glance toward the doorway of the living room to see Autumn standing there in bright pink footie pajamas decorated with candy canes. Her dark hair is a mess and she’s clutching a ratty looking pale yellow blanket.

  “Hey, baby.” I hold out my arms and wiggle my fingers at her. “C’mere.”

  She comes running and climbs into my lap, leaning her head against my chest as she snuggles in. “I woke up,” she says around the thumb she just stuck in her mouth.

  “I see that.” I run my hand over her hair, trying to smooth it down, but it’s a tangled mess. I’ll leave that up to Fable to take care of in the morning.

  “Mommy and Daddy’s door is locked.” She pulls her thumb out of her mouth and stares up at me. “That never happens.”

  Ha, I bet. Drew knows he can get away with it because I’m here. “I’ll take care of you.”

  “And Chelsea, too. Don’t forget Chelsea.”

  My girl lifts her head at hearing her name, smiling at Autumn when she spots her curled up in my lap. “What are you doing up, princess?”

  Autumn shrugs and settles her head back against my chest. She’s solid and warm and feels good in my arms. Not that I’m ready for babies—hell no—but it’s nice to have one to spoil and play with, and then hand back to their mom or dad when you’re done.

  That little Jacob is cute as hell but a total mama’s boy. I don’t know how Fable does it, but she’s the best mom ever. Unlike our own.

  Chelsea closes her book and rises from the chair, leaving the book on the ottoman as she makes her way over to the couch. “Got room for one more?” she asks me.

  I stretch my arm across the back of the couch and invite her without a word to settle down beside me, which she does. She leans her head against my shoulder and reaches out to tickle Autumn beneath her chin, making her giggle. I drop a kiss on top of Chelsea’s head, breathing deep the floral scent of her shampoo as I close my eyes.

  My stomach is jumping, I’m so damn nervous to give her the ring on Christmas morning. I don’t know if I can wait that long. I don’t know if I want to do it in front of witnesses. Maybe I should do it tonight. Or tomorrow night, on Christmas Eve, after everyone goes to bed and we’re all alone. I’m scared she’ll tell me no and then what the hell will I do?

  We’ve had some rough patches, specifically last summer. But we’re all good now, though my focus has been almost exclusively on football. I never want to put her second but she knows this is my future. She’s a part of that. I’m trying to not only take care of me, but also take care of us.

  “You should go back to bed,” Chelsea says to Autumn after a few minutes of silence. I can feel my niece’s body grow heavier and heavier and her eyes are slowly closing. She’s almost asleep.

  “Will you tuck me in, Aunt Chelsea?” she asks in that little lisp that makes Fable nuts. Typical mom stuff, that she’s worried her kid sucks her thumb and lisps.

  I happen to think it’s adorable.

  “Yeah, let’s go sweetie.” Chelsea gets up and holds out her hand. Autumn climbs out of my lap and takes Chelsea’s hand and they head for Autumn’s room.

  Chelsea glances over her shoulder, her gaze locking with mine. “We need to talk, I think.”

  Dread socks me right in the gut. “Uh, okay.”

  “Let me put her to bed first.”

  I watch her go, scared out of my mind. I can’t fuck this up. She’s…everything to me. But does she know it? I have a hard time expressing my feelings, I always have. Chels tells me she loves me all the time and I don’t say it near enough. I need to tell her.

  I need to show her. In a big way.

  “I really should go unlock the door.” I run my hand along Drew’s stomach, over every ridge and muscle. The man has posed for sports magazines shirtless for the love of God. And he’s all mine.

  I feel like those greedy seagulls from that one Disney movie, the ones that say mine, mine, mine, mine over and over again.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he whispers against my forehead. His arm is wrapped around my shoulders and he squeezes me close.

  “You know how Autumn usually gets up after a few hours and comes
to me,” I remind him. I never heard the door handle turn or a knock but considering my husband just had his face between my legs only a few minutes ago, I probably couldn’t hear anything what with all the gasping and moaning going on.

  He pretty much attacked me the moment he got me alone and I let him. I can tell he needed it. Needed me. And I needed him too. Life gets in the way sometimes and though we never really drift apart, we get busy. He’s on the road a lot, traveling with his team, and this season was rough. Taking care of Jake and Autumn fill all my hours and I can hardly keep up with the days, but I wouldn’t trade any of this for the world.

  So…no complaints. No regrets.

  “Owen and Chelsea are still up.” He reaches out toward the beside table and grabs his cell, checking the time. “It’s only a little past ten. If she gets up, they’ll take care of her.”

  I know he’s right but as usual, I have mother’s guilt.

  “Fable.” He gives me a little shake and I glance up at him. “Don’t worry about her. If she does wake up, she’ll go to them and she’ll be all right. You deserve some down time, baby.”

  I smile at him, parting my lips when he tilts his head down and presses a soft, lingering kiss to my lips. “Fine, you’re right.”

  “I know.” His voice is full of smug satisfaction. “I’ll go unlock the door in a minute.”

  I drape my leg across both of his, trapping him but not really. He’s so strong he could break away easily. “Not yet. Let me enjoy you first.”

  “What do you have planned?” he asks, his arm tightening around my shoulders and pulling me closer.

  “Why don’t I just show you?” I move so I’m on top of him, my legs straddling his hips, my hands resting on his shoulders. I gaze down at him, admiring his gorgeous face, those piercing blue eyes full of so much love. Watching me. The same eyes that our son has, beautiful and blue and so perfect…