Page 82 of Because of Them

His thumb is still pressed against my clit, small movements creating the biggest sensations inside my core, when he dips one finger into me. It’s tight, which is the exact opposite to what I expected, and I suck in a breath as I adjust to the feeling. When I relax underneath him again, Michael slowly pulls his finger out before pushing back in. He curls up to reach inside me, to caress the spot that only he seems to know how to find.

The fire spreads through me until it’s hard to breathe under his kiss. He moves to nip at my neck, licking at the soft spot behind my ear. Every muscle in my body clenches. Even my heart. The intensity squeezes away all the doubt I had about us, all the pent-up anger and frustration, until all that’s left is raw need, untamed desire, and overwhelming love.

Pulling his finger out, Michael kisses me ferociously, as though he can feel it too. He teases me, toying at my clit and dragging out my orgasm until I’m writhing underneath him. My hips buck up and he responds by pulling my lower lip between his teeth. Using two fingers this time, he presses deep into me as I lose control. Of my body, of my senses, of my heart. My body tightens around his fingers and under his embrace as the fire he lights inside me burns brighter than the sun. Heat everywhere, sparks all around me, and all I can see is him.

He removes his fingers slowly, keeping his thumb pressed down on my clit until I can’t take any more.

“Michael,” I breathe out his name, my voice raspy with exertion, and he steals it away with a kiss.

With our foreheads pressed together, I creep my eyes open as the beating in my chest returns to normal. He kisses me again, this time little more than pecks that plant their love all over my face; my lower lip, each corner, my cupid’s bow, then my nose, and each cheek, behind my ear.

I’m spent, but pressed against my inner thigh I can feel how hard Michael is. He rolls his hips into me, softly, slowly, testing the waters. I try to reciprocate, lifting my hips to meet him. My body protests, melting into the mattress instead.

“Michael, I …”

How do I let him down gently?How do I tell him we can’t do anything more and it’s not because I don’t want to but it’s because my body is literally done. My core aches, exhausted from my orgasm, and my scar is starting to throb, ever so softly but enough to pull me out of the mood and remind me of everything.

“I can’t, I’m sorry,” I choose, and my heart sinks through the mattress and onto the floor. I turn my head away from Michael’s, holding back the tears that threaten to form.

With his dry hand he holds my chin, turning me back to him so he can kiss me. He holds his mouth against mine until I relax into him and purse my lips to kiss him back.

“What happened to not being allowed to say sorry?”

He rolls off me, taking me with him so we’re on our sides. I tuck my knees up between us and he cradles his body around the ball I become.

“You’ve done so much Audrey, I don’t expect anything from you. Ever. I never needed this—sex—I just need you. I know it’slike, eighty or ninety percent my fault, but I need us to beusagain.”

“It’s going to take time Michael. Every relationship is rocky at best after a baby is born. We’ve had two, and our relationship had really only just begun. I fought against it for so long because I was petrified that we would crumble. Michael, we were crumbling.”

He tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear, then pushes his own hair further off his face. “Then we just need to find the right way to rebuild the foundations.”

My lip turns up, smirking. “Did you just make a builders pun?”

“The dad jokes just fall out of me now, I can’t help it.”

“You make a good dad, Michael.” I snuggle down, resting my face against his chest. Goosebumps start to prickle on my skin as the heat from earlier subsides into a comfortable afterglow.

“You make a wonderful mum, Audrey.”

MICHAEL

Audrey squeals as she gets out of the car. She tries to hide it, sucking the sound back in and forcing a cough, but I heard her excitement. I don’t blame her.

The facade of her new home is stunning, and I’m glad I left all creative licence to the designers and landscapers. Making things pretty has never been my strong suit when it comes to building houses.

A small, paved path cuts the front garden in two, surrounded by flowering shrubs of various sizes. The open paddock we drove past up the long driveway has been mowed, and Baxter bounds off the tray as soon as I unclip his lead to explore the space. I hope he doesn’t get used to having all this space, but at the same time I hope hecan.His nose dives in and out of low spots in the grass, sniffing out what I’m assuming are field rabbits. Brendansaid the pest control guy protected the house, but I have no idea what that means. As with most other finishing touches, I just went along with it. Still, I make a mental note to look up what we have to do, maintenance wise, to keep them outside.

Audrey hops from paver to paver along the path, her now natural brown hair flowing behind her. With a little encouraging, she finally went to the hairdresser last week. I was expecting the highlights to be back, but instead she trimmed off most of the blonde ends, leaving behind a shoulder length, light brown hairstyle that softens the sometimes sharp features of her face. She pauses before stepping onto the raised patio, taking in the cottage feeling facade.

Two rectangular planter beds line the front patio, rustic wooden boxes that will one day be overflowing with flowers. Until they grow and spread though, three lily plants are spaced evenly in the soil. White, hopefully. At least that’s what the woman at the gardening centre had said.

These plants were my one condition when I handed over the reins to the landscaper Brendan recommended. For new life and hope. That’s what Cassidy had said when I bought them for Audrey’s birthday, so it’s fitting that we have some permanently on display at our home. Ones that will never wilt. Ones that will, hopefully—if I can figure out how to care for them—never die.

Just like the love that fills our new family.

Audrey follows me up the steps, her fingers entwined in mine. I unlock the door and push it open. There’s awe in her breath as she takes in the wide, open hallway of the entry. Turning, I scoop her into my arms and carry her across the threshold. Full nineties rom-com style, and she loves it.

She giggles and squirms, twisting until she can kiss my cheek. Just as her touch always does, it sends a spark through me. One that tingles on my skin and fizzes in my bones.

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