Twenty-nine

November 28, 2019

The kitchen was a mess and I had made it that way. Determined to bake something for Thanksgiving dinner at Creed’s mother’s house had caused me more stress than I expected. I had gone through all of Gran’s Thanksgiving recipes and settled on pecan pie. I didn’t know how difficult pecan pie could be or how hard it was to find pecans at the store. Apparently, there was a shortage.

Pulling out the pecan pie from the oven, I sighed in relief that this one had turned out good. I’d burned the last one because I had misread the directions and set the oven too hot.

“Smells good,” Creed said, as he walked into the kitchen door from getting more firewood. He’d been going over to get firewood from his house more and more. We spent most of our time at Gran’s house and I required more heat than he did.

“This one worked!” I exclaimed as I sat it down on a pot holder.

“Is it vegan?” he asked me.

I glanced back at him over my shoulder. His hair was windblown and the stubble on his jawline gave him a rugged sexy look. “Yes,” I replied.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he said with an amused grin.

“Vegan pecan pie is just as good as regular,” I told him, although I wasn’t exactly sure that was true. I’d never had Gran’s pecan pie. The holidays she’d come to visit us, she never had the chance to cook or bake. My mother had everything catered.

“You saying pecan will distract anyone from the taste if it’s bad,” he said then and sat the wood down in the holder by the stove.

“YOU are the one saying it wrong,” I told him.

He raised his eyebrows when he turned to look back at me. “Oh really? You do realize New England is where Thanksgiving started.”

I was almost positive they didn’t have pecan pie on the first Thanksgiving. Creed walked over to me and pulled me against him. He smelled incredible and because of that I could overlook the fact he was cold. I shivered but snuggled closer to him.

“You do know the way y’all say it is kind of gross,” I teased, scrunching my nose in distaste. “PEE-can? Seriously? I doubt our ancestors called them that.”

He chuckled then and bent down to kiss the tip of my nose. “That’s fine. Take your pick-AHN pie and make sure to call it that for my family’s amusement.”

“It’s pee-KAHN” I corrected him.

He began trailing kisses from my temple down to my jawline and pecan pie didn’t seem very important anymore. “I like the way you talk,” he whispered near my ear. “I always have.”

I shivered again but not from the cold. He was warm now and his hands were moving down my back to cover my bottom.

“Seems to be,” he said, as he began tugging up my hoodie. “I like every fucking thing about you.”

I lifted my arms up and he removed my top then he shrugged out of his jacket and pulled me back against him again. “I can’t do much without thinking about you,” he said, then his mouth covered mine and I went on my tiptoes, so I could reach him better.

His hands cupped my butt and picked me up then set me down on the kitchen counter. I was too close to hot pie but then he took off his shirt and I was distracted. His bare chest would distract anyone. I reached out and ran my hand down it, stopping just at the waist of his jeans. Lifting my eyes to his, I smiled wickedly at him then slid off the counter and went down to my knees.

I’d thought about doing this. Many daydreams in the shower I had done just this to him, but every time I got a chance, he always did something to make me forget my name.

“Sailor,” he said my name with a husky groan, as I unzipped his jeans and tugged them down his hips along with his boxer briefs. Glancing up at him, I took his erection in my hand and pressed a small kiss to the tip.

He let out a low hard chuckle. “Jesus, woman.”

Enjoying the power I suddenly had, I leaned forward and slid him into my mouth. One of his hands touched the back of my head as he made an appreciative sound in his throat. I began working my mouth and hand over him in the same rhythm as when we had sex. The noises he made were the best part of the experience. Creed made me crazy with things he did to my body and knowing I could do the same to him was thrilling.

“Sailor,” he said my name on a plea. “I’m not going to make it much longer.”

Understanding what he was telling me didn’t slow me down or cause me to stop. I wanted to feel him break apart like this.

“Baby,” he groaned and his hand fisted in my hair. His body began to tremble and I prepared myself for what was to come. Literally.

“Fuuuuuck,” he shouted and I held onto him, making sure he received ever moment of pleasure. When he finally jerked as if he was suddenly very sensitive, I let him go and looked up at his face from my spot on the floor.

He was staring down at me with complete adoration and I grinned. I wiped the corner of my mouth with my fingers and stood up.

“Did I mention how much I love you?” he asked, and I burst out laughing as he pulled me against him. “No, I’m serious, I worship you,” he said, and my laughter continued.

We stood there in the warmth of the kitchen with the aroma of pecan pie surrounding us for several moments. Creed didn’t just make me happy; he made me complete. Most of my life I had wandered through it never feeling like I belonged anywhere. Until Creed.

“Thank you,” I said, resting my head against his chest.

“Baby, I think I’m the one who is supposed to be thanking you,” he replied.

Smiling, I pressed a kiss to his bare chest. “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” he said. “Completely serious. I’ve never been more serious.”

I laughed softly then leaned back, so I could look up at his beautiful face. “Thank you for loving me. Life without you always felt like I was searching. When all along I just needed you.”

He bent his head until his forehead touched mine.

“Loving you has always been my weakness,” he replied.

Sighing, I hugged him tightly. “I need to go get a shower. We have to leave in an hour,” I said, stepping back out of his arms reluctantly.

He smirked and glanced at the stairs. “I need a shower too.”

I shook my head. “No. We will be late,” I said, wishing we had time. Shower sex with Creed was my favorite.

“It’s fine. I’ll tell them we got hung up in the shower having hot soapy sex.

I slapped his chest. “No! You won’t.”

He shrugged. “We can tell them you had a problem with the pee-KAHN pie,” he said then winked at me. “Come on, you know you want to.”

Of course, I wanted to.