I let him work out his plans with the girl, and I went back to trying to figure out what to do about Trisha.
Present day . . .
Trisha stood in the bedroom undressing. It was something I had seen a million times before, but it never got old. I could watch this with complete fascination over and over again. With each year I somehow managed to love this woman more.
Seeing her mother our kids only made that love stronger.
When she wiggled her h*ps to make her shorts fall to the ground, leaving her in nothing but the black satin panties covering her sweet ass, I gave up my restraint.
I pressed my chest against her back and slid my hands around to rest on her flat stomach. “You’re so damn gorgeous,” I whispered in her ear before nibbling on her earlobe.
She shivered in my arms and melted back against me. “Mmmm” was her only response.
I cupped both her br**sts in my hands and let their heaviness rest in my palms before tugging on her aroused ni**les. Her breathing grew heavy as she pressed her chest into my hands, her way of silently begging for more.
Until Trisha, I had been a leg man. But after seeing her na**d the first time, I became a tits, ass, and leg man. She was so damn perfect I couldn’t decide what I loved more on her body.
“Bend over and put your hands on the bed,” I said, placing a hand on her back and pushing her forward. Over time Trisha had come to love it when I was demanding with sex. It made her hotter when I told her what to do. In the beginning it hadn’t been like this. I’d been as delicate with her as possible and treated her like the treasure she was.
Trisha bent over and put both her palms on the bed, then spread her legs as she arched her back. She knew she looked like a f**king wet dream, and she worked it. “God, I love your ass,” I said, running my hand over it lovingly before jerking her panties down and having her step out of them.
“Wet for me yet?” I asked her, knowing the answer already. I slipped a hand up between her legs and teased her inner thighs as she panted and whimpered. Then I slipped my fingers between the tender pink flesh.
“Fuck yeah,” I growled as her arousal coated my hand.
“Rock, don’t play with me. I need you to f**k me. Now. We can play later,” Trisha said on a pleading moan.
When my woman wanted to be f**ked, I f**ked. With one hand still pleasing her, I used my other to unsnap my jeans and shove them down, along with my boxers. “You just want it tonight? Is that it?” I teased her.
“Yes,” she panted. “Yes, please.”
“Can I lick my sweet pu**y first?” I asked her, bending over her to lay a kiss on the small of her back.
“Ah, Rock, please.” She was begging now, and wiggling her ass in my face.
I’d have to kiss her pu**y later. Right now I needed inside her. With one hard thrust I filled her up, and she pressed her face in the mattress to smother her cry. We were on the other side of the house from the kids, but we still tried to be careful when they were home. While they were at school, I often came home to f**k my woman until she screamed so loud the neighbors could hear her.
Trisha
Eight years ago . . .
Carrying my own book bag would keep me from healing and possibly make my fracture worse. However, after three days of Rock walking beside me and carrying it to each class while girls flirted with him and he didn’t stop them, I was ready to get myself a wagon to pull. Anything to put some distance between me and Rock and his adoring crowd.
He didn’t say much to me except to ask politely if I was okay or if I needed anything. With everyone else he joked and laughed. He winked at a few girls and chuckled at their attempts to hang on him. It was just too much.
I was like his little sister who needed help but he wished he didn’t have the obligation. Rock was a good guy. I knew that much. He had signed on to help me, and even though this was obviously holding him back, he didn’t complain. The only answer to this was to get someone else to carry my book bag. I was more than positive he’d gladly hand over the responsibility.
“Rock,” a redhead I didn’t know said in a sickeningly sweet voice. Rock paused and glanced at the girl, then grinned.
“Hey, Ginger. What’s up?”
Hey, Ginger. What’s up? I repeated in my head, and then mentally vomited. I had to get away from this.
“Tonight there’s a party at my place. You’re coming, right? I have a special new bikini I bought just for you.”
My mental vomit was about to become actual vomit. This was ridiculous. In desperation I began to scan the crowded halls for someone to rescue me from this. Anyone.
“I heard about the party. Not sure I’ll be able to make it, though,” he replied. He wasn’t amused by her or even disgusted. He sounded almost disappointed he was going to miss the special bikini. Ugh.