Anchor - M. Mabie Page 0,30
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“I have your dessert right here,” my mom told me as she picked up a little brown bag she’d kept hidden between her and my dad. “Casey got this for you, but forgot it at our house.”
I looked back and forth between them. They were together. I hadn’t imagined it.
Then, like she’d said something wrong, she clarified. “Your dad needed help with something earlier and Casey swung by.”
Fibber.
“Thanks for bringing it,” he crooned.
“Well, if that’ll be all, you’re all settled up. I’ll be back with your receipt, Mr. Moore,” the waitress explained as she walked off. He surprised us all with that one.
“Happy anniversary. I hope we’re as happy together as you are.” He tipped his chin admiringly to my parents as he got up. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’ve got a long day tomorrow. I hope you don’t mind if we head out?”
“Thank you, son,” my dad replied, and nobody made a big deal of it, but my heart squeezed as my dad grinned at the man who made my world spin.
My love for him would only grow and mature and that wasn’t a promise. It was a privilege.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
IT WAS A HUGE privilege to see the pride my girl had at dinner. Her head held as high as her spirits.
“So what’s in the bag, roomie?” she asked from the passenger seat on the drive back to the apartment.
“Your dessert,” I said as nonchalantly as I could. I loved that she hadn’t opened the bag. However, she had to know. I could smell it through the paper sack since her mother handed it to her.
We’d had a great night, aside from the episode when we first arrived at the restaurant. The look on her face when I’d touched her arm had turned my hot blood into ice in my veins. I never wanted her to look at me like that again. Ever.
Pure fear. Panic.
Since she’d told me about what he did to her, I should have known not to grab her, no matter what. I hadn’t been rough with her, or even aggressive, but I knew now there were triggers that would probably pop up over time. Aside from talking to Dr. Rex about it, I would have to be even more careful with her.
I could do better. Even though she was on the mend and I had no intention of causing her discomfort, I had. Clearly, there was still a lot of healing left to do. And I’d help her do it one inch at a time. It would be my pleasure—my mission—to erase what I could of that night from her memory. I didn’t want my touch to ever frighten her.
How could a woman who was so strong, be so fragile at the same time? I guess we all were.
Those were thoughts for another time because in the car she was smiling and enjoying the night. It was time for celebration. For firsts. For good things.
“I know what’s in there. It’s all mine,” Blake teased. “This reminds me of something.” Then she giggled, thinking about the first time we’d shared cheesecake.
“I kind of remember winning a piece away from you last time.”
“Mr. Moore, I’d love a rematch. I feel like I’m better prepared this time.”
“So you still like Quadruple Chocolate? I thought you might be on to something else by now.” Animated and carefree, she knew what she was getting into. I loved our games.
“Lou, I know a good thing when I see it. I absolutely still love Quadruple Chocolate, and I’m prepared to defend both of my pieces this time.” She got as close as her seatbelt would allow and whispered in my ear, “And I’m very hungry.”
Oh, fuck. My cock loved that. Time proved that my girl’s dirty talk was improving.
Focus on driving, Casey. Focus.
The last thing I wanted to do was cause an accident. I needed to get her home safely, inside of her bed. Nothing was more important than her safety, but a close second was getting my cock there safely, and then getting it inside of her.
Safety first.
It was apparent she had no care for my cock’s safety whatsoever, because when her hand traced the bulge in my pants, I damn near killed us all.
“I love your enthusiasm, Blake, and I look forward to the challenge, but if you don’t leave my dick alone, I’ll be forced to pull this car over.” I stopped at a red light and turned my head just enough to feel her breath on