Every day after that night, I’ve had Chloe tailed to and from work if I couldn’t be there myself. I called in every favor owed me by my brothers in blue, the ones I would trust with my own life. I’ve kept close tabs on Chloe’s behavior, but she’s shown no long-term effects from the situation. I, on the other hand, feel my stomach clench whenever she’s not with me.
Tonight is Mom’s dinner party. I’m grateful Caleb’s going to be there as somewhat of a buffer, but even with him present, Mom and Joyce are going to be hard to contain. With any luck, David will be on my side and be the voice of reason when they start planning our wedding and naming our children.
“I have nothing to wear,” Chloe says, coming out of the bedroom with two dresses in hand, wearing a robe and God only knows what underneath, probably that delicious bra and panties. “Which do you like?” She pushes out one hanger with an indigo dress, then the other in soft gray.
“Blue.” I try to sound convincing but it’s a no-win answer. If I say blue, she’s going to wonder if it’s too sexy, which it’s not. If I say gray, she’ll wonder if she’s fat. I have no idea why women ask at all.
“You’re sure?”
“Sweet pea, you’re going to look fantastic in anything you put on.” I walk to her and kiss her softly on her lips. “You make the dress, not the other way around.” I kiss her again, only this time not so innocently, and my cock decides to rise to attention.
Chloe snaps back, “Oh no, you don’t. We’re not going to be late to your mother’s house. I’d never live it down.” She turns tail and heads back into the bedroom. I’m tempted to follow her and have my wicked way with her sexy body. It seems that I have an insatiable appetite for her.
We haven’t been able to keep our hands off each other. Every night, I lose myself between her legs. The more she comes for me, the more I want to hear her scream my name. Last night was no different. As she approached the bed in a pale-yellow teddy with daisies, I couldn’t wait for her to make it over to me. I literally reached across to where she was standing on her side of the mattress and yanked her into bed.
God, the sounds she makes, they’re exquisite. She’s like the perfect instrument, and every touch or kiss or lick induces a sigh of contentment or passion and lust. When she calls my name, it’s like a whisper in the wind, meant only for my ears. Her breathless gasps pleading for me to come inside her make it impossible to deny her.
When I finally had her in bed last night, the saucy wench rolled me onto my back and began kissing my chest, her lips nipping and licking as she moved downward. When she took off her top, letting the tips of her nipples graze my skin while I kissed her hungrily, I didn’t think I was going to hang on. Then she turned with her scantily clad ass in my face as she took my cock in her mouth.
“Baby,” I groaned. She moaned over my cock, and the vibration alone almost set me off. She didn’t back down, bobbing her head up and down, taking me deeper each time. I focused my attention on her great ass, my hands on her cheeks, gripping tightly. I ripped her panties from her, causing her to stop what she was doing with a gasp.
I slapped her ass cheek. “You started this, baby. Suck me deep,” I commanded. Chloe moved her mouth over my cock, paying special attention to the slit with her tongue. Meanwhile, I spread her legs nice and wide, getting a full view of both my pussy and ass. I fingered her pussy, and she let out a sweet sigh, but that wasn’t enough for me. I brought her down onto my mouth and ate out my girl. The more I tasted her, the more I wanted.
She tried to move away, and I slapped her ass once more. “This is mine,” I growled, and went at her harder.
Chloe lifted her head from my cock and cried out for me. “Damian, please. I need you inside.”
She faced away from me in a reverse cowgirl position, but as she came down over my cock, I enjoyed the view of her bouncing ass. I dictated the pace with my hands on her hips, slowing her down. Her frustration grew because she wanted to come.
“Hold it, baby. Don’t come. Wait for me,” I ordered.
“Please,” she said in desperation, her pussy seeping her sweetness all over me.
I brought her down hard and fast, and we came in unison, Chloe gripping my wrists at her waist, her head back with her hair flowing behind her. As soon as she stopped convulsing around my cock, I gently moved her off me and lay her down beside me, kissing her.
“Be right back,” I told her, and covered her with the sheet as I went to get a cloth to clean us both up. When I glanced over my shoulder at her, she was snuggled into my pillow, her hair spread out, her lips swollen from our lovemaking, and her eyes closed, but it was the soft purr of contentment that hit me. That was enough, to know she was happy.
Lost in my thoughts, I don’t notice Chloe walking back into the room until she’s nearly upon me.
“Will I do?” she asks, pressing her palms against the front of the dress.
“No one but you will do.”
She tilts her head, biting her lower lip. “Thank you.” She expels a heavy breath.
“Why are you so upset? It’s not fake anymore.” I’m confused. When it was fake, I could understand her apprehension about pulling off a night with my mother and trying to be convincing, but now that problem doesn’t exist.
“It’s worse,” she says.
“What?” I shake my head. “Explain it to me.”
“When it wasn’t real, then your mother could end up hating me, and, in the end, she’d be happy to be rid of me. It would have sucked in the short term, but it would have been better for her. Now that we are…uh”—she waves her hand between us—“an us, I need her to like me.” She softens her voice. “You and your mom are close, and I don’t want to be a problem.”
“My mom already thinks you’re wonderful. And so what if she doesn’t? I want to be with you,” I tell her, although, honestly, it would suck because my mom is a fantastic mother.
“It matters to me.”
“And that’s why she’ll love you. You’re sincere and kind and sweet to the core. Just be you, sweet pea. No one can resist your amazing smile.”
Chloe gives me that shy smile, then comes over and wraps her arms around my waist. “You always know how to make me feel better.”
I drop a light kiss on her lips. “We got this.”
Chloe
Damian holds on tightly to my hand as we come up the walkway lined with vibrant flowers in every color. Sandra must be a gardener, judging by the look of the meticulous landscaping. I, on the other hand, haven’t been able to keep a fern alive. Damian gives my hand a squeeze, and I look up at his face.
“She wants me to be happy,” he says, referring to his mother. “You make me happy.” He gives me a wink.
Suddenly, all my doubts disappear. I make him happy. I want to say it back, but the front door is opened before I can utter a word.
“We were wondering if you were going to come in at all.” A gray-haired gentleman with a sly smirk greets us at the door. He’s got sparkling brown eyes and is a few inches shorter than Damian.
From inside, someone says, “Dad, give them a chance to knock.” It sounds like Caleb, with the voice getting nearer to confirm that it is him. “Sheesh, you’re all nutty. I have a mind to facilitate an escape for these two poor souls.”
“Hey, Uncle Dave. How’ve you been?” Damian reaches out to hug the older man. Before he can answer, another voice from inside calls out to us.
“Let them in, David. Don’t just make them stand on the stoop.”
David laughs, opens the door wide, and whispers, “Good luck. They’re in fine form tonight.”
“I’m telling Aunt Joyce you said that,” Damian replies with a chuckle.
I’m not ashamed to say that I’m this close to bolting for the car, but as soon as I see Sandra reaching for me and embracing me, all I can do is hold on.
“You must think we’re all crazy,” she says softly.
“Well, just a little.”
Sandra finally releases me and guides me to a woman I presume is Joyce, her best friend and Caleb’s mom. “This is Chloe,” she introduces me. Joyce is the exact opposite of her husband, petite with blonde hair and blue eyes. She’s tiny compared to her husband and son.
“I’ve heard so much about you, Chloe. It’s so good to finally meet you,” Joyce says.
“It’s a pleasure, ma’am.”
“No ma’ams here,” she insists. “Joyce, please.” Then she points to her husband, who is standing next to Caleb. “And that’s David, my better half. Or so he thinks.” She winks.
“What a beautiful dress you have on. You look like an angel,” Sandra says.
“Thank you. You have a lovely home.”
“You’re sweet, dear. I’ve got to get dinner out of the oven and onto the table. David’s been a bear for the last hour waiting for his pot roast.” Sandra gives him a sassy look.
“You said six,” he replies.
“I said six because if I didn’t, you’d still be in the woodshop puttering around,” Joyce admits.
“You lied to me, woman,” he says with mock shock.
“For your own good,” his wife says.
David looks at Damian. “This is what you have to look forward to, boy. You may want to rethink this.” His naughty expression is clearly meant to get a rise out of his wife.
“David Thorne, tell me you did not just say that to Damian?” she chastises.
“Like he’d listen to me with a beautiful woman like Chloe on his arm.”
Sandra takes my hand and leads me away, with Joyce calling out, “We’re taking Chloe away before you scare her away.”
The roar of laughter from the men in the living room echoes as we head into the kitchen. As I look back toward Damian, he gives me a wink and a grin, telling me it’s all going to be good.
While preparing the salad and taking out the pot roast accompanied by baby potatoes and green beans, Sandra, Joyce, and I chat, mostly about me and my family, but several times, Kevin Locke came up in conversation.
“He sounds like a wonderful man, Joyce. I’m so sorry he’s not with us,” I tell her, seeing the sadness written all over her face.
“Thank you, dear. Damian is a lot like his father. He was a policeman too. Dedicated, believed in the ‘serve and protect’ motto. Kevin was Damian’s hero, his role model. Those two were thick as thieves. They would go camping, fishing, go to football games and, well, just everywhere together.” She expels a heavy breath. “I’m not sure who suffered more through his illness.”
“All of you suffered. Each of you a little differently,” Joyce says.
“You’re probably right. In the end, Kevin just wanted it to be over. He would never willingly leave us, but I could see that he couldn’t bear not being the active man that he was,” Sandra says quietly.
“You were his rock.” Joyce stands next to her friend, resting a hand on her back. “He adored you, and he knew all you did for him. I think his greatest reason for staying with us as long as he did was the two of you. Even the doctors called it a miracle he was with us in that last year.”
My lower lip begins to tremble. The display of pure raw emotion and pain on Sandra’s face brings me to tears. I can’t imagine losing my dad. I would be destroyed. Then I think about losing Damian, and the burning in my chest becomes overwhelming. Nausea churns in my stomach. I’m finding it hard to breathe.
Suddenly, Sandra is guiding me into a chair. “Get her some water,” I hear her say. “Chloe, sweetie, are you all right?”
“I think she’s having a panic attack.” Joyce hands Sandra a glass of water and calls for Damian as Sandra brings the glass to my lips. I take a small sip.
“What the hell is going on?” Damian drops to his knee in front of me, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. “Look at me, sweet pea. Breathe with me.” He takes a deep breath in, and I do the same, and exhale.
We do this several times before I blurt, “I can’t lose you.”
“You’re not going to, baby. I’m right here,” he says calmly, touching his forehead to mine.
“You’re getting a physical tomorrow, and every six months,” I declare.
“Just had one, happy to do another if it makes you feel better.” His voice lulls me back to calm, and the anxiety slowly seeps out of my body. “What happened, baby?”
I don’t want to mention Kevin. I don’t want to hurt Damian by bringing up his father and what he went through. I stumble over my words, unable to say what I want. “I… I…”
“This is my fault. We started talking about your father, and I didn’t realize how much it would affect Chloe,” Sandra says. “I’m so sorry, sweetie.”
This is not how I wanted our first dinner with the people closest to Damian to go. “No, please. I’m ruining your dinner. I hate that you had to go through that. Then I started thinking of my dad and how much I miss him. It just went downhill from there.”
“Well, enough of this,” David declares. “Caleb, help your mother and Sandra get the food on the table. I’m going to go open a bottle of wine to mellow out the women. Damian, get your girl to the table. I’m hungry.” It’s funny how it sounds like he’s ordering us about, but really, he’s giving us something else to do and pulling us all back into the present.
When they all leave the kitchen, with only Damian and me left, I say, “You make me happy too.”
A smile comes across his face, then he touches his lips to mine in a gentle butterfly kiss. “My sweet girl.”
The rest of dinner goes off without a hitch. I don’t think I’ve ever seen three men inhale a pot roast that fast. It was fantastic, but no way on earth could I eat near the amount of those three. Then we had dessert, lemon meringue pie, tart and sweet. Yummy!
While we’re sipping our coffee, Caleb gets a call and excuses himself from the room. Not a minute later, he calls to Damian, who also promptly leaves the table to join him. I can see David looking out at the back deck toward them, but he doesn’t say a word. Joyce and Sandra are too engrossed in their own conversation to notice David’s shift in mood.
“You know, I was a cop too,” he tells me. I nod but say nothing. David jerks his head toward Caleb. “He’s all cop.” Again, I remain silent and lean in to listen. “Caleb’s too intense. You can get lost in the evil if all you see is crime and death.” He’s worried about his son. I reach out to cover his hand. “I’m happy that Damian found a girl to keep him grounded. I wish Caleb could have that too,” he confesses.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I tease, and David smiles.
“I’d appreciate that, sweetheart. A man my age is going to need grandchildren soon to take fishing with him,” he replies, then sits back and enjoys the rest of his dessert.
I look around the table. It’s full of love and caring. Damian’s family is much like mine. We take care of each other, support and guide each other.
I can envision our families getting together over the holidays, laughing and celebrating. Family dinners would be awesome. The idea of what was once a pretense turning into something real is settling in and I love it, but I can’t shake my fear that Damian’s life may still be in danger.