CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Margo

I couldn’t believe it. Jay had said he was sorry.

Not only that, but I was here, in the park, on a bench, and Jay was kissing me? I let out a long breath. When he released me, I felt dazed.

He smiled. “Whew.”

I chuckled. “You can say that again.”

As he drew breath to fit the action to the word, I laughed.

“You know I didn’t mean to really say it again,” I protested.

He chuckled. “I do know. Are you going somewhere?”

“Dressed like this?” I couldn’t help asking.

He chuckled. “Well, you know I don’t know anything about fashion.”

“You’re not that clueless,” I said fondly. Considering he was just going for a walk in the park, he looked pretty good.

He gave a grin. “Thanks.”

I looked into those blue eyes. He still looked sad and it hurt my heart.

“Jay, I’m sorry too,” I said.

He blinked. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he said gently.

“I do, though,” I insisted. “I’ve been so blind.” Ever since my conversation with my brother it had been becoming more obvious to me why he was like he was.

“No…” he said softly. “Blind about what?”

“About everything,” I said softly. “I should have seen why you wanted to leave me.”

He smiled. “Well, I didn’t.”

I stared. “You mean it?” I’d kind of deduced it was his injury that caused it, but even so, to hear it from his own mouth moved me greatly.

“Of course I didn’t,” he said gently. “Margo…you can be really silly.”

I huffed. “Well, no. I wasn’t being silly. You have to admit it made sense for me to think that.”

“Well, maybe,” he said gently. “But please know that was never true. I never didn’t want you: not ever.”

I knew I was crying. I could feel the tears roll down my face. I was still, though, not making a sound. He reached up and gently touched my cheek.

“Margo, no…” he said. He sounded horrified. “Don’t cry.”

I sniffed. “Not…crying.”

He laughed. “Well, that’s what it looks like to me.”

I sniffed again and looked about for a tissue. My only pocket proved not to hold one.

“Tissue?” he said.

I laughed. “Why am I not surprised you have one?”

“Because I’m boring?”

It was my turn to stare. “You, boring?” I laughed loudly.

“Well, I am,” he said. “I mean, I can’t even walk.”

I felt myself get mad. “Jay, stop it,” I said. “How can you even think something like that? I love you.”

It shot out of my mouth, shouted at him in a moment of impatience that was also a moment of truth.

He stared at me. I covered my face, feeling acutely embarrassed. Now what? I’d broken the single solid rule my mother had taught me: never let anyone know how much you feel.

I expected him to snort and chuckle and walk away. To be embarrassed. Instead, he looked as if he was watching a rare comet. He was staring at me with a mixture of disbelief and happiness.

“You mean it?”

I chuckled, acutely self-conscious. “What do you think?” I said stiffly. “If I didn’t, why would I just have shouted it at you and half the park?”

He laughed them. He didn’t make much noise but he sat there with his shoulders heaving, laughing so the tears rolled down his face.

“You dear woman,” he said. It was such an incongruous thing for him—a musclebound ex-athlete—to say—that I stared. Then I chuckled.

“Oh, Jay,” I said.

“I love you too,” he said gently.

I couldn’t believe it. I thought I might actually die of happiness. I looked into his eyes, and he looked into mine and reached up and gently stroked my hair. I leaned forward, and he leaned into meet me and our lips met.

The kiss was slow and tender, starting with the merest lick of his tongue across the line of my lips. It deepened into a kiss that pushed into my mouth, parting my lips and probing my wetness and making my entire body ache.

“Come on,” I said thickly as he leaned back. “Let’s go.”

He didn’t ask what I meant, but he stood and reached for the crutches. I gave him time.

Together we walked back to my car. Then, with him in the passenger seat, crutches tucked in beside him, we were racing back to my house. It was a good time. The traffic was good, and we reached it just before I thought I might actually faint from longing.

***

I waited while Margo opened the door. I couldn’t keep my hands to myself and reached out to touch her, bracing my shoulder on the door. She felt my hand on her body and giggled.

“Wait, you,” she hissed. She was laughing and so was I.

I couldn’t say when I had felt so happy.

I wanted her and she wanted me.

She unlocked the door and we went into her apartment.

Inside, I breathed in the scent of her, that sweet, exotic, floral scent. It made my heart flip and my loins ache. I stood behind her and waited while she found light switches and then followed her slowly into the bedroom.

“Here,” she said, closing the curtains and switching on the light. I waited until she was finished, then closed the door. I leaned against the wall, letting the crutches fall to one side. She leaned into my arms, and I held her.

“Margo,” I sighed as I kissed her. Her plump lips parted under my tongue, and I knew my cock was helplessly hard as she leaned against me.

She smiled.

“Mm,” she said. “Come on.”

She leaned over and flopped back onto the bed. She lay there, looking up at me with those teasing dark eyes. I couldn’t resist. I limped to the bed and flopped down beside her, reaching hungrily for her shirt even as I leaned down to kiss her.

I was tugging the shirt over her head, and she laughed and shifted, helping me. When her body and bra were revealed, I made myself move so I could grip the running shorts and pull them down her long legs.

She lay before me on the bed, her bra pale in the half-light. I marveled at her—how her taut, high breasts filled the lacy fabric, her flat belly below, and those legs topped with the sweet triangle of her undies.

It was hard to just sit and look at her, and I made myself do it, teasing myself as I stared at those full breasts, rising and falling with her breath. Under the bra, her nipples were peach, just the paler side of freckle brown, and they were hard and tight and so good if you had them between your lips.

I reached for her, and slowly worked the elastic strapping down her arms.

She made a little sigh as I rolled her over and gently unclasped her bra. Then I lifted the lace away.

She was lying on her back, those sweet, full breasts pointing at the ceiling. I couldn’t resist and let them fill my hands and lips.

The skin was satin under me, and I breathed in the scent of her skin even as I worked her nipple, teasing it out with my fingers and tongue. She was gasping, and I could feel that sweet shudder that told me that she was liking it.

I moved my hand lower, and closed my eyes, taunting myself again as I let my hand slide down her undies.

The skin was wet, and I let my fingers part her, teasing myself as much as her as she shifted and yelped.

It was irresistible to indulge myself and her, and I worked her with my mouth and fingers, loving the sweet taste of her—the firm hardness in my mouth and the sounds she made.

I was drifting in the sweet bliss of her scent, her wetness, her warmth.

“Jay,” she murmured. “Oh, oh…”

She was about to come. I held my breath and tried to decide whether I should finish her myself now or try and enter her. I decided on the first and let my thumb rub her until she screamed.

She lay back, her eyes closed, lost in sweetness.

“Oh, baby.”

I kissed her, letting my tongue thrust into her gentle mouth. My whole body was aching for her now and I felt my loins throbbing desperately.

I sat up and started to undress myself. She reached for me and stroked a hand down my skin. I sighed and felt my body respond to hers.

“Oh, baby,” I murmured. “I want you.”

She smiled. “Well, then, what d’ you want?”

She was teasing me, her eyes bright. I smiled.

“I know what I want first,” I said.

I parted her thighs and slid into her. She cried out. I sighed. My cock throbbed and the feeling of her wetness around me was so good, so safe. I drew out and pushed in again, and then did it again a bit harder. There was a wall behind me, which made it easier to brace myself as I withdrew and thrust, withdrew and thrust.

I could feel the ache building inside me, and that strange, heating, almost painful feeling as my climax grew and grew.

I was pushing into her fast now, my breath panting and heaving, and then suddenly my body knew what it was doing, throbbing and pulsing and moving faster and faster and…

I yelled aloud as I came. I felt amazing. I leaned back and let my body do what it had to do and then collapsed on her.

She sighed and reached up. I felt embraced and safe as she held me close, my body pressed against her soft, cool skin.

She lay beside me for what felt like ages. I could smell the sweet floral scent of her skin and feel its coolness.

“Oh, Jay,” she said.

“You’re crying.”

I smiled down at her and she smiled up at me, her face streaked with tears.

“Yes,” she murmured. “I am crying.”

I smiled at her. “You’re silly.”

“No, I’m not,” she said. “And you always make me cry.”

I smiled. “I suppose I do.”

“For a good reason, though,” she sniffed. “A good reason.”

I sighed. I was almost crying too. I had never experienced anything quite like this before. Not only was the lovemaking amazing, the fact was she loved me.

And I did her.

I rolled off her and lay on my back, holding her in my arms.

“I love you, Margo,” I whispered into her ear.

She stiffened and moved, looking into my eyes.

“Oh, Jay,” she said. “I love you too.”

I was tired and elated and I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew Margo was stroking my shoulder and the sky was pale outside.