What's Left of Us
Page 21

Our bodies move as one, seeking pleasure.
My shirt is clinging to me, drenched in sweat with the exertion of my powerful thrusts. I am blazing hot as Aundrea moves her hips faster and I push as deep as I can.
“Parker, oh my God, don’t stop. Right there,” she calls out. God, yes. I love giving this woman pleasure.
“No fucking way am I stopping.”
I squeeze her breasts, rolling her nipples between my fingertips.
“Yes,” she moans.
I’m an inferno, the fire inside me raging as I shudder, erupting with my pleasure, and emptying my release inside of her.
Hers isn’t far behind. She tightens around me and I kiss her damp hair as she lets out the breath she was holding.
“Holy shit, Aundrea.” There’s no other sound but our heaving breaths and the clicking of what sounds like the air conditioning wanting to come on. “You are one hell of a woman.”
“I could say the same about you.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“I mean,” she pauses, laughing, “you’re one hell of a man.” She laughs harder.
“You bet your sweet ass I’m a man. All man,” I say moving my hips so she can feel just how much of a man I am, still inside her.
Her eyes dance and she grins up at me. “Definitely all man.”
I ease out of her and drop a kiss on her collarbone, allowing her to slide farther up the bed. The petals are everywhere and the comforter is disheveled from our movements.
I quickly undress, needing to get out of these hot, sticky clothes.
She lies before me, naked, and I can’t help but ache for more.
“Well, I think we got our money’s worth out of the room, huh?” she jokes, looking around the bed.
I raise my eyebrows. “I’m just getting started.”
Crawling back onto the bed, I trail kisses up her body until I meet her sweet lips. Taking her hand in mine, I kiss each knuckle. I can only hope each kiss leaves a hot flame in its place, reminding her of what she does to me.
“You signed?” I hold the phone away from my ear as Genna’s voice goes up an octave.
“Yep! Polly, our coordinator, faxed the contract over on Monday. We looked it over and faxed it back this morning. I just have to transfer the down payment.”
“Dre! This is so exciting! When are you going to tell Mom? Should we call her now?”
“Calm down, lady.” I laugh at her eagerness. I love how supportive my family is. “We’re going to tell both sets of parents once we’ve actually met with a surrogate and have a good match.”
“When do they think they’ll have someone for you?”
“Polly seemed hopeful we would find someone within six months.” Genna heaves a sigh. “Six months isn’t that long. Besides, it can take longer than that to conceive the typical way.” I hate using the term "normal" so Parker suggested using “typical” and it feels much better. For all intents and purposes, Parker and I are your typical couple. We just have to do things a little differently.
“I know. I only want this to move quickly for you.”
“Eh, slow is good.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “It gives us time to get settled into the new place, my job, save money, prepare. You know, all the basics.”
“True.”
“So, what time do you need us over tomorrow for these shenanigans of yours?” We finally nailed down a date to get together for her taste-testing dinner party. Jean has some business to do here in Rochester tomorrow, so it worked out perfectly.
“Jean says she’ll get into town around three if you want to come over then. Jason and Kevin will ride together and get here about five or so.”
I process the times in my head. “That should work. I volunteer tomorrow morning, so I’ll come over right after that.”
“Perfect. If you drop Parker off tomorrow he can hitch a ride with the guys.”
“Sounds good to me.”
I give my hair a quick tease and pin a few long, blonde strands in place, allowing my heated curls to fall over my right shoulder.
Since my hair has grown back, I try to wear it in different styles every day. I’ve even become more accustomed to wearing make-up and taking more time with my wardrobe. I still wear leggings, because they’re the most comfortable thing on the planet, but I’ve learned to love and respect fashion. I owe a lot to Jean and her ability to transform any closet.
The temperature is humid for early May. We had a record cold winter and spring has started strangely. It’s like Mother Nature can’t decide which season she wants to be.
Amy, Ethan, and I arrive at Genna’s together, pulling into her driveway alongside Jean’s car.
I don’t knock; I walk right in, followed by Amy and a very excited Ethan, Avenger toys in hand. We slip off our shoes and follow the smells of chocolate and cinnamon into the kitchen.
“It smells incredible in here,” I announce rounding the corner to the kitchen.
“Oh. My. Gosh. This kitchen is a chocolate addict’s dream.” I swear, Amy’s eyes are the size of the dinner plates on the counter. She can’t seem to tear her eyes away from the chocolate treats on the table.
Ethan runs right over, asking to have one.
“Of course, honey,” Genna answers. She looks back at the two of us. “Dre, can you please take the last of the truffles out of the oven?”
She doesn’t waste any time. “How are you, Aundrea? Great, thanks for asking. Oh, by the way, can you please help me?” I tease, putting on oven mitts.