Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
‘Stop it,’ he whispers, pulling out sharply and flipping me onto my back. My heavy gaze lifts to his green eyes, eyes that scream a thousand emotions each time I look into them, reflecting worry back at me this morning. ‘We’re still us. We still have the children. I still love you, and you still love me. That’s all that matters.’ On a swivel of his tight hips, he enters me again, falling to his forearms. The weight of him calms me, reminding me that I may have lost many memories of this man, but at least I still have him in the flesh. The unrelenting pain that strikes me when I think of being without him is enough to tell me that where I am is where I’m supposed to be. Not that I need a reminder. Not when every fibre of my being is telling me so.
I reach for his back and run my palms across the tight planes, feeling him. ‘That’s all I need,’ I affirm, swallowing when he withdraws slowly, purposely slowly, his eyes on mine as he drives forward again, exact and smooth.
‘Nothing can break us.’ He sweeps in and takes my mouth gently, and my legs come up to his waist to hold him everywhere I can. ‘That’s it, baby. Hold tight.’ The change in pace, from grinds to deep drives, has me struggling to maintain our kiss, my tongue becoming erratic in its movements, almost frenzied.
‘You nearly there?’ He pulls back, not needing an answer, but wanting to see my face when I tip the edge. Wedging his fists into the mattress, he ups the ante, mixing plunges with swivels, flexing sharply and then slowly. I’m lost in him, amazed through my pleasure of the heights he takes me to. To the places where I can forget. Where nothing exists except him and me and the passion we share.
The sweat on his brow sparkles in the dusky light, his face beginning to strain as my release surges forward and detonates, instantly making me shake with the force, the tingling sensations too much, my flesh too sensitive. And he knows, because his movements stop and he puts pressure where I need it, stemming the sensitivity, as he comes hard, his roar suppressed, his face red with the pressure of blood rushing to his head. My internal walls grab him greedily and milk him dry, the heat of his essence pouring deeply into me.
Jesse drops onto me in a heap of exhausted male, crowding me, still buried deep, where he will be for the next ten minutes while he snoozes on me, sporadically nuzzling and kissing my wet neck, whispering sweet nothings in my ear. And I hold him and savour the moment I cherish each morning before I have to get up and face my day.
I breathe into his shoulder as we settle, constricting him, getting him as close as I possibly can. In my own silent way, I’m telling him that I’m happy to remain where I am. It’s not like I have much else to do. Work isn’t on the cards for me just yet.
I tried a few weeks ago, convinced Jesse to let me go back to my office, and he did, albeit reluctantly. It took just ten minutes for me to realise I was out of my depth – ten minutes of staring at the paperwork on my desk, ten minutes of Jesse watching me from the couch while I demanded my brain to tell me what to do, and ten failed attempts to enter my password on the computer, before I finally crumpled and gave in to the fact that I was of no use at the club.
I didn’t like it, not one little bit, and it wasn’t only because I felt so useless. That woman who works for us can’t keep her eyes off Jesse, and I could see clearly that my presence wasn’t welcome. I squeeze my eyes, trying to remember her name. Small things, simple things that I’m learning are slipping from my memory as fast as they’re put there. Like names. Cherry. I exhale, thanking my brain for giving me the information I’m looking for. I only wish it would give me my memories, too.
Am I any use at all? I scold myself the moment I question my worth, because there’s one valuable job I’m doing. Being a mum as best I can, though I sometimes question my ability there. Like when Jacob brought home some simple maths homework. Simple equations that I know how to solve from my school days, way before the cut-off in my memory. Yet I couldn’t do them. My brain simply wouldn’t work.
And like when Maddie and I went shopping for a dress for Raya and Drew’s wedding. I picked out many outfits, and each one was rejected. I didn’t even know my daughter’s style. That day is one I’d like to forget, made worse by the fact that when we flagged a taxi to take us home, I couldn’t even remember our damn address. It was gone, out of my head like Jesse hadn’t repeated it to me a thousand times in recent weeks. Thankfully, my daughter saved me.