REprisal - Kathy Coopmans Page 0,74

of his shaft. I begin to stroke, taking one of his balls into my mouth and gently sucking, causing his cock to stir in my hands.

“Fucking hell!” he shouts.

I do the same to the other one, then replace my hand with my tongue, licking upwards until I reach his opening. I dip the tip of my tongue inside, the sounds coming out of his mouth turning me on as he begs me to continue. I swirl my tongue, licking in slow circles all the way down and back up again.

His hips buck upward when I pull him into my mouth, sucking the enlarged head, his hands tugging harder on my hair. The pleasure I am giving him consumes me as I pull more of him into my mouth, sucking and rolling my tongue as I bob up and down for several minutes. I place both hands around him when I get back up to the top and dip into his tip once more, my hands twisting and turning in opposite directions as well as pumping.

I have never heard Turner swear as much as he is right now, nor seen the fire in his eyes as I take him back in all the way. I pump and suck repeatedly as we watch each other, and when he comes and his familiar scent and taste fills my mouth, I swallow it all.

My core aches for him, but this isn’t about me right now, this is all about him.

“Good God,” he says hoarsely. “Now I really don’t want to get out of this bed. That was the hottest thing I have ever seen.”

I smile mischievously. Just when I am crawling up his sinfully sexy body, a loud wail erupts from the baby monitor.

“Perfect timing,” says Turner.

“For you, anyway.” I reply.

“You go shower first. I’ll get her,” he offers, placing a kiss to my forehead.

I climb off of him knowing his eyes are glued to me as I retreat out of his sight. And as I turn the water on and step in the shower, memories of last night and this morning make me the happiest I have been in a long time. My entire body is sore in such a good way. I’m home, alive, and with my family.

I close my eyes, leaning my head back. As the water drips down, a flash of Trent standing in the shower at our old home flickers through my mind.

I should hate the fact he is invading my thoughts, but for some strange reason, I don’t. I need to talk to someone about how I feel about him, someone who won’t judge me or be automatically biased against him. Turner tenses up whenever his name is brought up. My brother and dad would rather kill Trent than to even begin to understand. I couldn’t expect Krista to keep the things I tell her from Zack, and Melody has got to be going through her own type of hell with Trent being her son.

I sigh and wash my body and hair. I really do need to get this cut. It is way too long and as thick as it is, it takes forever to dry. I won’t have time to deal with it once all of this is done and Turner and I can get back to work.

Thinking about work makes me wonder how Turner came up with the money to buy this house. I know he said it’s in Melody’s name. Did she pay for it all? Pay for everything? What happened to our business, our office, our employees?

I shut off the water and open the door to the steam-filled bathroom. I towel off, apply my lotion, and pull my hair back into a ponytail. I smile as I walk back into the bedroom and see the sheets half off the bed in a crumpled up mess. I forgo even making it, I like the idea of seeing it and recalling how the two of us kissed forever this morning, rolling back and forth across the big bed, hands groping, touching each other any and everywhere we could.

Turner walks in with a happy little Journey all freshly changed in a cute little pink sundress as I am pulling my old favorite sundress over my head.

“Hey, Zack’s on his way over,” he tells me.

“Did he say what he wanted?”

“He did. I tried calling my mother to have her come over and keep an eye on the baby, but I couldn’t get hold of her. I called your