Sweet Little Memories
Page 13

I couldn’t restrain the small cry that resulted from his touch. The sound I made caused him to pause. I widened my stance and he began again. I rocked my hips against his hand as it slid between my legs. He held his hand and fingers there, not moving. I took advantage of his fingers, rubbing my aroused sex until I had to grab onto his arms from the euphoria.
I was so close when he pulled his hand away to lift and press me against the shower wall. He entered me before letting me slide back down and I sighed with relief. This was what I wanted.
“More? I can’t give you enough, can I?” His tone was excited.
“Never enough,” I agreed readily.
He didn’t move faster. Instead, he moved slowly inside me. Our eyes locked as he brought us closer and closer to the peak we both hungered for.
“I want to come inside you so goddamn bad, but I won’t. We can’t tempt fate again.” He was strained, fighting his ache. The idea of locking my legs around him and holding him inside me was there in my thoughts. But I knew I wouldn’t. We couldn’t continue to do that as amazing as it felt.
He lowered his head until his forehead touched mine and I felt the slight tremble of his body. I let go, sobbing his name as I reached my orgasm. He held my tightly and I shook again and again unable to stop wave after wave that came over me.
Just when I thought I’d pass out, he pulled out of me and shouted as his warm semen shot against my thigh.
We stood there, both in a daze. The water was hitting our skin while our breathing slowly returning to normal. Neither of us moved. I didn’t want to let go of him. I also didn’t think I had the energy to walk. I was blissfully drained. The intensity from the past couple of hours had zapped me of all I had. It was beautiful. It was perfect.
When Stone finally moved, it was to continue washing me. His hand was quick this time when he slid it between my legs. He didn’t dwell too long on any sensitive area. I smiled with my eyes still closed.
The water cut off and he wrapped a thick towel around me. I held it tightly as I followed him out of the shower. A towel hung on his hips and his hair was still damp. Water was dripping from mine. None of that mattered. All I wanted was the bed and several hours of sleep. I was ready to relax.
Stone held back the covers and I climbed inside the bed. His body came in behind me and held me against him as I quickly fell into a deep restful sleep.
 
 
Stone
SCANNING THE RESTAURANT, I FOUND her easily enough. Hilda hadn’t changed much over the past six years since Wills’ birth. Men still turned their heads to watch as she passed. The excitement for life, however, was now void in her eyes. Coldness had taken the place of the once youthful gleam that had resided there. A reality that living with my father would do to anyone. My mother also had the same hardness in her gaze, although I’d never known what she was like before my father ruined her.
Walking toward Hilda, I feared this conversation would end the way the last few had. My lawyer was adamant that I attempt to get her to work with us one more time. I was done dealing with her, but I needed her cooperation to fight what was to come.
She lifted her gaze and a tight smile touched her red lips before she took a sip of her champagne. This meeting had taken me several calls to arrange. Hilda was currently living in Chicago as a congressman’s mistress. The diamonds on her ears and the ones dangling from her wrist told me he was keeping her happy.
Taking the chair across from her, I sat down.
“Winston,” she said in acknowledgment.
“Hello, Hilda.”
“I would like to say that it’s nice to see you, but we both know that’s a lie.” Her smile was gone replaced with a smirk.
“Thanks for agreeing to meet me. It’s important.”
She shrugged. “It’s pointless, Winston. You know it is. Why you keep battling this, I don’t know. It’s a waste of your time and money. He’ll never give Wills up.”
I didn’t expect him to. But if Wills was mine, I would take him.
“Life with my father is a living hell for anyone. You know that. How can you so easily accept the fact he has Wills? As a mother, don’t you want to protect him?” I asked this knowing the answer already. Hilda was selfish. She only cared about her plans. Wills wasn’t included in those plans.
“I didn’t want to be a mother, Winston. You know that. I wasn’t cut out to be a mother. I’m not the motherly type.”
I grimaced. She sounded so much like my mother. The damage Wills had already suffered because of her and my father would be hard to repair. Every day he spent in that house, it only grew worse. I didn’t want him to have my life. He deserved more.
“Obviously.”
She looked at me with a bored expression and continued drinking her champagne. “When was the last time you saw Wills?” I asked.
She frowned. “I think in April, maybe?”
Wills had told me it was February since she’d last visited him. She’d patted his head and talked on her phone the entire visit. I wanted him to talk about how she treated him and how it made him feel. My hope was having him face it would keep him from withdrawing and letting the bitterness darken him. As it had me.
“You don’t care what happens to him. You’ve made that clear. But I do. Even if he’s my brother I don’t want him to grow up the way I did. I’ve got to save him.”
She lifted her left shoulder slightly. “You turned out just fine. Successful. Happy.”
I laughed. My laugh held no amusement but disgust. She honestly thought I had turned out fine. Because I had been successful? The shallowness that consumed this woman was hard to be around. I didn’t want to talk to her. If I could do this without her I would. But she was Wills’ mother.
“Success doesn’t equal happiness, Hilda.”
She raised her eyebrows as if what I’d said was ridiculous. “Winston, you have never wanted for anything. Not once. I was cold in the winter, I went to bed hungry every night, and my clothes were either made by my mother or they were found in trash bins, thrown out by others. I lived in poverty. I watched my mother die from a cough that eventually consumed her in a cold, little one-bedroom shack. That is real fucking life. What Wills has is everything I didn’t. I love my son and I know that he has more than I ever imagined having.”
I’d never known anything about Hilda’s youth or family. And although that was a sad story I still asked, “Did your mother try to keep you warm? Did she beat you or call you names to belittle you? Did she take care of you when you were sick? Did she love you?”