Ever since Thatcher’s father stopped by the feed store yesterday afternoon, Thatcher couldn’t get over his grumpiness. He was short and to the point. He never read to me last night, which after our blazing kiss, I had been looking forward to our time alone. That hadn’t happened. I’ve asked twice now what his dad had said and what he wanted but both times he’d grunted and busied himself with something else.

I’d only met Walter a time or two but he’d always been a gentleman to me. With Thatcher’s revelation of abuse from the man, I found myself flummoxed at the picture he painted on the outside for the world to see, when on the inside he was a nasty human being. At least he used to be. If Thatcher’s attitude was any indication the man still had something up his butt.

I had half a mind to call the bastard myself and give him the what for about his son. I knew that wouldn’t sit well with Thatcher but it’d make me feel good. Give me a peace of mind to have the man know I had his son’s back. With Thayer asleep, I figured now was as good as time as any to get Thatcher to speak.

The kitchen lights were on but he wasn’t in there. I couldn’t see him on the back porch either. I glanced toward his bedroom door and a dim light peeked out from underneath. The two weeks that we’d been here, I’d avoided going anywhere near his room. Because I knew that look in his eyes when we were together. I knew what he would do to me and so help me, I wanted him to do everything his eyes promised. I hadn’t been ready what with the divorce and the fire. After our hungry kiss yesterday, I was ready. I was beyond ready. I craved the feel of his hands on my body in places that have been ignored for far too long.

If I wanted answers tonight, I would get them. I knew, however, that I’d give him my heart in turn. I rolled my eyes at myself and inched forward toward his door. Maybe he was asleep and I was getting myself all worked up over nothing.

I knocked.

“Come in.”

I held my breath and turned the brass knob, pushing the door open. Thatcher lay half-naked sprawled out on top of his bed. He was mouthwatering. He blew hot and handsome away. He was downright dangerous for women to look at. I couldn’t help but to give him a once-over before I took in my surroundings. His room was bathed in light from a lamp that sat on the nightstand next to him. A large photograph of a moose standing near a creek hung on the wall at the head of his bed. My eyes darted back to Thatcher’s. He was hard to read like this. Like he was still crabby and I wasn’t sure if he wanted my company or was being a courteous host.

“What can I do for you, Abigail?”

The timbers of his voice sent shivers down my spine. My nipples ached as I watched his fingertips run along the edge if his phone. How should I answer? There were so many things he could do for me right now. Talk to me about his father. Give me an orgasm. Or two. Reassure me that my heart was safe with him.

“Is this a bad time?” His gaze roamed over my pajamas, my bare legs and back up to me.

“As good a time as any. I’ve been in such a bad mood, why would you want my company?”

“Since you didn’t hang out with me and Thayer last night, locking yourself inside your office, I thought we could hang out now.”

He smirked, “And do what?”

“Talk.” Bite nipples.

“‘Bout what?” He pulled himself out of his bed and stalked toward me, not giving me a chance to answer. His large hand grasped mine and tugged me toward his bed. His hands came up and gently pulled my glasses off and set them on his nightstand. He pushed me down and wedged his large body between my legs. With his elbows propping him up some from the bed, he wasn’t entirely heavy.

“Tell me what you really want, Abigail.”

“This. You.” I raised my hips suggestively into his, locking my arms around his neck. I shamelessly rubbed against the bulge in his pants conveying my desire.

“I wanted to give you space.”

“Are you done? I’ve been running around here hoping you’d take the lead. Hoping we would have an opportunity to be alone. I want you, Thatcher. So bad.”

His lips found mine and I slowly perused his mouth with my tongue, enjoying the way his stubble brushed along my skin. Oh, God, I’ve been waiting for an eternity for this man and like I dreamt about, his body fit perfectly with mine. He kissed me with passion and hunger. His kisses were so much better than what I remembered. More experienced. More aggressive. Much hotter than ever before.

He pushed into me, the denim of his jeans scraping my over-sensitized legs. The slow rhythm are bodies naturally made together was nearing me toward orgasm. It was like the stairwell all over again. I was going to explode and the man hadn’t even touched me yet.

“Don’t come, Abby. Not this time. Not like this.” He unlatched my arms from his neck and pulled my pajama top off and over my head marveling at what he’d just uncovered. His thumbs grazed slowly along my ribs and I watched at how enamored he seemed to be by all of this. He took his time pulling my bottoms down, lifting my legs one at a time to get me out of them.

“It hurts,” he whispered as he placed kisses along my ankle.

“What hurts?”

“Your beauty. It’s like I can’t breathe.”

I shivered at his words and tingles spread through my entire body, curling my toes as his mouth made love to my legs. He’d place a few kisses on one leg and then move to the other. His stubble felt amazing along my bare skin. I clenched my lady parts together trying to will an orgasm even though he wasn’t touching me there.

“Touch me, Thatcher,” I pleaded.

He glanced up, mid-kiss, his mouth still along my leg as he quirked an eyebrow, “I am touching you.”

“Not there. Here.” I brought my hand to my center, touching myself against my panties to show him where exactly I needed him to touch me.

“Don’t touch. Have patience. When I’m done with these fine legs, I’ll make my way to your pussy, Abby. I can see how wet you are.”

He could? My hips gyrated against nothing as I tried desperately to satisfy the burning need inside me. His mouth finally made its way to my inner thighs, where he began nibbling and sucking on the skin there. It was a strange mixture of pain and pleasure. His teeth dug into my skin. His tongue seared me. I was so turned on; I was reveling in the bites of pain as he nibbled and sucked the sensitive skin. His deft hands grabbed my butt, pulling my legs wide apart and he kissed me there. Finally. Through the white lace of my panties, his skilled mouth found the spot that had been dying for attention and I arched on the bed.

“Ohhh.” I couldn’t help it. I was a lightweight. How could I last through any sexual encounter with him when he hardly touched me and I was already so close to the precipice?

“You’re making this so easy for me. God, Abigail, I’m barely fucking touching you. Take your bra off. I want to see your tits as I bring this wet, pink pussy of yours to orgasm with my mouth.”

I managed to remove my bra despite my shaky hands and Thatcher went back to giving me attention. His undivided attention between my legs. He hooked his thumbs inside the waistband of my panties and pulled them down past my knees and I shimmied out of them.

“Perfect.”

I wasn’t perfect but the idea that he thought I was, even after I’d bore his son, made me feel golden. The pureness in his eyes assured me that he wasn’t feeding me a line of crap and when he trailed his finger along my sex, sparks marred my vision.

“So ready for me. You know what I’m going to do to you?”

His dirty talk was making me wild and I couldn’t get past the lump in my throat so I simply shook my head.

“Torture you. Slowly. Inch by inch. I’m going to stick my fingers in you, followed by my tongue…”

My breath hitched. Did he not know this was torture already? Couldn’t he see me quivering?

His fingers strummed my clitoris as if it were a violin and once again, I was on the brink…one more flick and I-

“Why did you stop?” I whined, “I was so close.”

If his mischievous grin wasn’t handsome as hell, I very well might have smacked him. Not answering, he leaned down and pressed his lips to the sensitize bud and I latched onto his shoulder. He treated it much like the nipple biting: intense, to the point and potent. He was merciless, unwilling to fail at my needs. I exploded quickly, gasping his name as my nails dug into his shoulders.

I’ve been missing this, this long?

“Open your eyes.”

I blinked them open and watched him undo the button fly on his blue jeans. He was rock solid, large beneath the cloth and I couldn’t wait for more.

“Look what you do to me? Every damn night woman, I say good night and I come in here and jerk myself off, envisioning what it would be like to have your flesh wrapped around my cock. Every fucking night since you guys moved in.”

“I didn’t know,” I said innocently. I guessed. The moments when I could hear his bed moving, I imagined him stroking himself. The night of our date when Thayer was at my mom’s, I’d played with myself hearing the shake of his bed. I didn’t know, I guessed, even hoped if I was honest with myself. Now I knew.

His jeans got thrown on the ground and I devoured him. His boxer-briefs and how they clung to his muscular butt. The curvatures in his legs and how meaty they were, ripe for sinking teeth into. From running. A runner’s body. His stomach was lean and trim, something I’d been too shy to marvel at before. But now, in the dim light of his room, I drank him in. It seemed fitting I should give this gift to myself. I didn’t know when or if there would be another time.

“Touch me, Baby. You’ve seen me before. Been with me before, I’m nothing new.”

“Thatcher, it’s been almost five years. Look at you. You’re all grown up. All…muscular and the hair on your chest and stomach,” I swallowed, glancing at his erection, “You’re bigger.”

He laughed and I giggled, feeling shy once again. Ignoring the shyness, I was after all butt naked, I leaned and got to my knees. He stood at the edge of the bed waiting for my move and I circled his nipples with my index finger, enjoying the goosebumps and how they hardened from my “almost touch.”

“It’s hard not to capture you and fuck you hard and right, the way you need.”

My breasts became heavy at the idea and I smirked, “Have patience, Thatcher.”

I silenced his next words with a kiss and I allowed my hands to wander. Wander to the package below. He was warm even through the fabric and his hips shifted into my hand as I massaged the length of him. I dipped my hand into the waistband and pulled the shorts down enough that his cock sprang free and held the briefs in place allowing me to get a good look. My palm ran along his head, hot and smooth, with a dab of moisture coating the width.

I cupped my palm and fingers around his girth and watched his expression as he relished my touch. His eyes were half-closed and I continued to admire him. As I stroked him, he grunted and it egged me on, knowing full well I had power over him. His eyes closed and I memorized his cock. The solid vein lines, the smooth head and his large balls. I grabbed them with my free hand, squeezing gently, just so I could get the full effect. His entire package.

He grasped my wrist, “Turn around. Kneel on the bed. I’m going to fuck you from behind. I want to feel your tight lips surrounding my head. I want to feel your juices coating me.”

I did as I was told and waited, quivering on my knees, for him to enter me. I turned my head and watched him sheath himself with a condom.

“I want to do that next time,” I said.

“It’s yours.”

He braced himself on the edge of the bed and with his hands on my hips, he pulled me toward him. The connection was immediate. He could have fallen into me in one swoop. Instead, he took his lazy time rubbing against my sex with the head of his dick. Teasing me, is what I call it.

“You ready for me, Abigail?”

He was positioned for entrance and instead of answering verbally, I pushed against him. Above his grunt, I gasped. He was large, filling me to the brim. I was overconfident pushing against him that way and I realized I’d forgotten what sex was like. Real hot-blooded sex with a hot-blooded man to boot.

It was like being reborn again. When neither one of us moved, I pointed my chin over my shoulder.

“This isn’t going to work, woman.”

Was the not-being-able-to-breathe part bothering him too?

“Your pussy is too tight. You’re going to have me losing it in two pumps flat.”

I pouted and pushed against him, wanting it. Wanting him to do me like this. Hard. His fingers bit into my hips in an effort to hold me still.

“Uh-uh.”

He pulled halfway out of me, both of us savoring the painfully sweet feel of one another. When he was out, his head bobbing against my lips, he thrust into me once more. Hard. Deep. Not just once. Twice. Three times. He pulled out. Our breaths loud in the quiet of his room.

“Come here.”

He fell onto the bed next to me and suddenly I was on top of him, staring down into those wondrous blue eyes of his. I was surprised at the bite marks along my inner thighs as I spread myself across him. He lifted me onto him and I took all of him. Inch by inch. As far as I could go. I found my rhythm and rode him as his hands played with my breasts, pinching and pulling my hard nipples. When he leaned up and captured one of my nipples with his mouth, I exploded. The orgasm was unlike the two he’d given me before. This one was drawn out, his teeth bit into my flesh and I rode him as hard and fast as I could, hoping he would become powerless beneath me.

“Is this what you imagined it would be like, Thatcher?”

“Better. Don’t stop. I want one more from you, Baby.”

“I want one from you. I’ve been waiting so long for you. So long to have you inside me.”

“Me too. Ride it out. Ride it out again. That clit is the greediest sex button I know. She’s dying to come for me. Once more.”

He was right. She was. I was. He pushed into my clitoris with his long fingers and I throbbed into them as I bucked back and forth willing him to orgasm. Joke was on me though because a few thrusts and whatever magic he was doing with his fingertips, had me orgasming yet again.

His thumb brushed my lip, parting my mouth open. He stuck it inside my mouth and I began sucking on it.

“That’s it. Suck on it. Taste yourself.”

I rolled my tongue around his thumb tasting myself on him as I moved my hips, simultaneously sucking everything his thumb offered. He leaned forward, capturing my waist with his free hand to stop my torment on him as I finally brought him to ecstasy.

For a second neither of us moved as we lay gasping for air. Then I rolled off him so he could take care of the condom and the next thing I knew, dawn was streaming through his window curtains and I was trapped against him with both of his arms holding me close. I listened for sounds of Thayer to be awake or walking around above us when I spotted his clock telling me it was only five forty-five in the morning. I relaxed into Thatcher’s arms.

Dear God, I never wanted to leave him. This position. This home. Last night had been better than amazing and I damn well knew my heart would be anchored here once we’d had sex. Crap. Probably wasn’t the best decision I’d ever made. It’d felt like the best last night though. I wiggled around so I could peek at him while he slept. He looked so peaceful and sexy. Amazing how he could have such long lashes when I tried everything to get mine to look like his. I found myself tracing the stubble along his chin and above his lips. I gently placed my index finger along his bottom lip and slowly ran it across those soft, pink treasures when he began kissing my finger and I smiled.

“Good morning,” he mumbled in a sleep-induced voice, his eyes still closed.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I’m glad you did. It’s not every morning I get to see the mother of my child in all her beauty.”

“Oh stop.”

“I’m serious Abigail. Last night was-”

“A dream?” I finished for him.

He chuckled, “Yeah, it was. Wasn’t it? Did you ever think we would be together again?”

“I always wanted to. I was married on paper only, so my mind and my heart were always daydreaming about you. Especially whenever I touched myself, it was always you who was there. Always you who was bringing me to orgasm.”

“Don’t stop. Tell me more about this touching yourself.”

“What? Don’t act like you never do it! But since my toy- well, you know.” I shrugged.

He leaned up on his elbow, his eyes curious. “No, I don’t know. Tell me. I’m dying to know. What toy?”

“I needed something all that time.”

“I know,” he nodded. “Tell me all about it. What did it look like?”

“It was blue. It took two double A batteries. That’s it.”

“No, it’s not. Details, woman, I want details.”

“No,” I laughed, playfully smacking him on the arm.

“Yes. How long was it?”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“Like this,” I showed him the length using my hands.

“Circumference?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary for you to know.”

“It is. I have to know what I’m up against. If I can fulfill what you’ve been accustomed to for so long. Was it as wide as mine?”

“Oh yeah. It was. Bigger. Which is why I didn’t want to have this conversation.” The look on his face was priceless and I tried so dang hard not to burst into fits of laughter.

“You’re teasing, aren’t you? You squealed like a stuck pig when you were on your knees.”

“The look on your face was worth it.”

“So…it took batteries.”

I shook my head, “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Hell no. So it was blue, about this long and this wide. Did the whole thing vibrate or what?”

“No. Just the…” my cheeks heated, “just the bunny ears.”

I quickly looked away.

“Just the ears,” he repeated in amusement. Not a question. More as if he were discussing this out loud to himself, contemplating the ins and outs of a product.

“So it was like this?” he pulled the cover back and exposed his massive hard-on. My face couldn’t get any hotter. The fact that I had a toy sort of slipped out and now I was mortified.

My mortification quickly turned to arousal as he gripped his shaft with one hand and demonstrated, quite accurately, where the bunny ears were positioned on my toy.

“Yes, Abby?”

Hmmm? “Oh yeah, yes. Just like that.”

“And it just tickled your clit into oblivion, huh?” He was stroking his penis now in slow, sure movements. Up and down, up and down.

“Abby?”

“Yeah, I said. No. I mean. Not into oblivion, really. Okay, yes it did. Into oblivion.” Up and down, up and down.

“We’re going to get you another one. I have to see this.”

He continued to stroke himself, up and down while I watched. The air conditioner kicked on blowing cool air across my bare breasts causing my nipples to harden.

“Thayer’s probably going to wake up soon, Abby. Why don’t you just get on it?”