Текст книги "Pushing the Limits"
Автор книги: Brooke Cumberland
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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 21 страниц)
I love how she abandons all her insecurities in these moments. She knows what she wants and chases it down—and right now, she wants my mouth—which I’m happy to oblige.
Skimming my hand lightly up her leg from ankle to thigh, I slip my fingers up to her pussy, teasing her when I shallowly insert a finger.
“Yes.” She releases a soft and eager moan. “Yesyesyes… more,” her voice rough and desperate.
I ignore her sweet begging and lightly circle her clit with the tip of my tongue and slowly slip my finger inside with shallow thrusts. She puffs out a breath in frustration and tries to lower her leg off my shoulder, but I quickly grab it. I tightly wrap my free arm around her thigh, dig my nails into her flesh, and hold her open to me. I’m not letting go of her that easily—not until I’ve fully fucked her delicious hot pussy.
After harshly putting her right back where I want her, I decide to put her out of her misery. I suck her clit back into my mouth and push two fingers deep inside her. I rotate my wrist, pushing harder and deeper, her walls tightening around me with each thrust. I glance up her body again, her chest heaving and cheeks flushed with pleasure.
I curl my fingers deep inside her as I lick and suck her faster. I feel her body tensing, her inner walls tightening around my fingers and tongue. God, I want to taste her orgasm. She’s close, I can feel it.
“Let me taste it, Aspen,” I demand and lick up her slit. I tease her clit with my tongue, my fingers working her faster until her head falls back against the wall and her body nearly cripples to the floor. “Let go, baby. C’mon, I know you need it,” I encourage, rotating my wrist faster.
“Fuck…Ohmigod,” she pants out in a whisper.
“That’s it. Let me taste it, sweetheart.”
She shakes her head, not allowing herself to let go. She’s biting her lip and clenching her eyes shut. I know she wants to scream.
I release her leg and set her heel back down on the floor as I stand up. My fingers continue working her, thrusting in and out, as my thumb rubs along her clit.
My free hand cups her jaw and rubs a soothing finger against her cheek. “Let it go,” I demand again. I cover my lips over hers and fuck her pussy with my hand until she cries into my mouth. Her body tightens, her pussy hugging me as her juices soak my fingers.
“So fucking good, baby,” I whisper over her lips. “I know you have another.”
She’s quick to shake her head. “I can’t,” she chokes out.
My fingers start working her wet pussy again. I know she’s ready to explode, I can hear it. “Fuck my fingers, Aspen.” I go deeper, feeling her walls tense. “Fuck my fingers hard.”
She wraps a hand around my neck and pulls my lips back over her as she kisses me, lightly biting my lip as she releases another explosive orgasm.
She shivers with goose bumps, her body slouching against the wall, completely sated.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I kiss her gently with a smile on my lips.
“So those fingers aren’t only meant for painting,” she teases.
“They have many talents.” I place a soft kiss on her lips again, letting her taste her arousal. “I’d love to show you what else they’re capable of doing.”
“I think I can arrange that.” Lifting her into my arms, she quickly wraps her legs around me.
“I want you inside me,” her words low in my ear as I walk us to my bedroom. “Now.”
Tangling my fingers in her hair, I pull her head back so she’s looking straight at me. “Patience, beautiful.”
Once we’re in the bedroom and I’ve locked the door, I set her down on the bed and push the coat off her shoulders, tossing it aside. She watches with eager eyes as I strip my own clothes off, adding it to the pile on the floor.
I grab a condom from the dresser and roll it over my length. She leans back on the bed as I slowly crawl up her body, laying soft kisses on her smooth skin. When I reach her breasts, I pull her nipple into my mouth and suck as if my life depends on it. I know she likes it rough, and I plan to be just that.
As I massage her breast with my hand, I run my teeth along her nipple, softly biting it as I suck it into my mouth, releasing it and pulling it back in between my lips, harder this time. She groans, digging her nails into the skin of my arms, which only feeds my arousal more.
Those eager hips of hers rock wildly against me as I feel her heat pressed against my cock.
“I need you, Morgan,” her voice quiet, yet demanding. “Now.”
Looking up from her breast, I smirk at her sultry tone. “You really don’t know the definition of patience, do you?” I quip.
Her lips part as I grip her legs and spread them wide for me. I press the tip of my cock against her opening and watch as her eyelids flutter closed, anticipating my jarring thrusts.
I lean over her as I slowly push inside, feeling the tightness of her pussy enveloping me. Her hips arch up as her head buries deeper into the mattress.
She releases a deep, loud moan without warning, and I quickly cover my mouth over hers, taking in all of her sweet sounds.
After rolling her on top of me, bending her over the bed, and fucking her recklessly, I curl around her body, tangling my legs with hers and hold her close. Aspen quickly falls into a deep, sated sleep. I lay there for a few more moments as I run my fingers over her skin and contemplate how we’ll make this work. I’m determined to find a way without either of us having to sacrifice our positions at the college.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ASPEN
It’s officially spring break and the first time in years that I’ve happily spent an entire morning in bed. It’s only been a week since Morgan and I first got together, but it feels like much longer. We’ve been building a relationship for seven weeks before now, so I feel like I know so much about him already, yet there’s so much I have yet to find out.
Waking up in Morgan’s arms every morning has been complete bliss—almost unreal. He looks at me as if I’m the only woman in the entire world, reminds me how beautiful I am, and how much he loves my paintings. Guilt soars through me as I think about the secret I have yet to confess. He’s told me about his ex-girlfriend and the reason he left five years ago. The betrayal ran deep, and I worry about how he will react when he finds out about the Ariel Rose Collection paintings. He’s talked a little more about his brother and how close they were growing up. He’s given so much of himself, but I still struggle with opening up.
My mother’s called me at least a dozen times in the last couple weeks. I’ve ignored them all, knowing exactly what she wants. I don’t owe my parents anything, and I’m not going home just to amuse her. Being around them is toxic, and it’s the last thing I need in my life right now.
Morgan dropped Natalia off at school early this morning and crawled back into bed with me. It felt so easy, so natural to just snuggle right back into his arms. The warmth of his skin and tenderness of his grip lulls me right back to sleep.
“Time to wake up, sleepyhead.” I feel his hand shaking my shoulder, but I groan and roll over. “Aspen,” he says with an amused laugh. “I made breakfast.”
“Just stick a feeding tube in me and nourish me that way,” I mumble. “Your bed is too comfortable.”
He rolls me back toward him until I’m on top of him. “You need to eat.”
“Stop being so bossy,” I complain. “You can’t be all professorly in bed.” I crack a teasing smile.
“Professorly? Lord.” He laughs and leans up, pulling me up with him. He wraps his arms under my body and lifts me up. “I’ll force feed you if I have to.”
“I’d like to see you try.” He flashes me a sly smirk, and I know I’m in trouble.
He carries me into the kitchen and sets me down on the counter. “Here, drink this.”
He hands me a glass with something that looks like the Hulk threw up and nods his head at me to drink it.
“What is it?” I frown.
“It’s a protein smoothie. Try it.”
“It looks disgusting.” I smell it and wrinkle my nose. “Smells disgusting, too.”
He glares at me. “It has peanut butter and blueberries in it.”
“And?” I prompt, knowing there’s something worse.
“Spinach.”
I extend my arm and hand it back to him. “Yup, no thanks. I’ll stick with normal food.”
He grabs it and laughs. “You aren’t even going to try it?”
“Just because you like to eat fruity spinach goo doesn’t mean I can’t eat eggs and a pound of greasy bacon.”
He raises his brows. “You aren’t going to be young forever,” he chides with a wink. “Having healthy eating habits will help you maintain a healthy diet as you grow older.”
“Professor by day, Nutritionist by night!” I pump my fist in the air and laugh.
He shakes his head at me. “You’re on your own then, pretty lady. I haven’t bought bacon in years.”
“But pizza you’re okay with?”
“Only on cheat days.”
I jump off the counter and stand in front of him. “So like…every day?”
He wraps an arm around me and playfully slaps my ass. I yelp in surprise and try to wiggle out of his grip. “Don’t tempt me to put you over my knee, woman.”
I roll my eyes and try to keep from laughing at his antics. “Now if you added bacon to that smoothie, we’d have a deal.”
“Not a chance.”
“You’re no fun.” I glare and he frees me from his arm. I walk to his fridge and start digging around. “You seriously have no food in here.” I push around the pizza boxes and leftover containers. “What do you guys eat?”
“Natalia says I’m a bad cook.”
“Guess we’re stopping at the grocery store sometime today.” I shut the door and start digging through his mostly empty cupboards. “I’ll hop in the shower and we can go.” I turn around to him leaning against the counter, holding a cup of coffee, and smirking like something’s funny. “What? Did that sound really girlfriend-ish? It did. Crap. Can we pretend that never happened? I didn’t—”
“Aspen,” he interrupts in a low, amused voice. “I want you to sound girlfriend-ish.”
“You do?”
He sets his cup down and steps toward me. “Yes. I’ve been thinking about you for weeks. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t want you around literally all the time. I was worried you’d think I was being too clingy or something.”
I crack a smile as warmth fills my heart at how sincere he’s being. “We’re really bad at this, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, too bad this kind of stuff doesn’t come with a manual, huh?”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure there are, but none that apply to ‘How to Secretly Date your Professor’ genre.”
“Well, I don’t see why we can’t start one.” He rubs the scruff over his jawline, deep in thought. “Step one: Fall for a student who is beyond brilliant, sexy, and sassy. Step two: Be around her as much as possible without people getting suspicious. Step three: Don’t get caught.”
I burst out in laughter at his lame list and shake my head. “Bestseller right there, baby!”
“Oh, for sure.” His lips tilt up in a confident grin. “Then I could quit my job, and we wouldn’t have to keep it secret any longer.”
I suck in my lower lip and arch a brow. “But then what fun would that be?” I tease. “If everyone’s just going to know about it that defeats the whole purpose.”
He slaps a hand on his chest. “Wait, so you’re only with me for the thrill?” He pretends to sound offended.
“Well, obviously. You thought it was your good looks and charm or something?”
He grabs my hips and starts tickling me. I bend over, laughing, trying to get out of his grip, but he’s too strong. “Stop it!” I laugh.
“Take it back!”
“Never!”
He grabs my legs and throws me over his shoulder. “What are you doing?” I squeal, patting his ass with both hands.
“Grocery shopping will have to wait,” he says matter-of-factly. “Looks like you need to be taught a lesson first.” He slaps my ass with the palm of his hand, and I know exactly what kind of lesson he’s talking about.
I’ve only been to my apartment this week to change clothes and wait for Natalia to go to bed before sneaking back over. As much as it feels weird to have slept over here every night, it also feels natural.
Morgan’s still sleeping, so I try to sneak out before his niece wakes up. I want to bring some of my art supplies over as well. I get antsy if I don’t paint after a day or two.
I tiptoe to the kitchen and pull open the fridge. I grab a bottle of water and yogurt to eat before I leave, but as soon as I shut the door, his niece is standing directly next to it.
“Uh…hi,” I stumble. I look like a hot mess of sex hair with last night’s makeup still on. Great first impression. “You must be Natalia.” I extend a hand, but her eyes stay focused on mine. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I know who you are.”
My brows furrow as my arm falls back to my side. “You do?”
“I also know you’ve been sneaking in every night for the past week. I may be eleven years old, but I’m not stupid.”
I swallow, unsure of what to say. “Oh, well, I don’t think Morgan was ready to tell you just yet.”
Her arms are crossed as she shakes her head in the most dramatic way an eleven-year-old can. “He doesn’t get girls at all. Just a heads up.”
I press my lips together tightly, trying to hold in the laughter at how serious she sounds. Her spunkiness is adorable. Based on what Morgan’s told me, we have a lot in common. She’s built up walls to block her feelings and to keep herself at a distance. It’s heartbreaking for someone so young to hold in so much grief, especially the loss of a parent—both parents at that.
“Oh, well, thank you for the tip.” I wink. “Maybe I can make dinner for all of us tonight. What do you think?”
She shrugs. “Sure. As long as you’re a better cook than Uncle Morgan. He’s had to change the smoke alarm batteries twice since I’ve moved in.” I crack a smile at the visual of Morgan burning food in the kitchen so much that the batteries have died.
“What’s your favorite food?” I ask, hoping to soften her up.
“Hm…I don’t know. I’ve been living on cold pizza and Grandma’s leftovers, so…anything.” She finally smiles.
“I know.” I smile in return. “I’ll make famous Chicago-style hot dogs.”
Her brow arches. “Hot dogs?”
“Not just any hot dogs,” I defend. “All-beef hot dog on a poppy seed bun topped with mustard, relish, chopped onion, tomato slices, pickle spear, sport peppers, and celery salt. It’s delicious. It’s the custom Chicago dog.” I feel nostalgic just thinking about home and how, as a family, we’d always get them from the hot dog stands on the corner.
Her eyes widen, and I fear I’ve scared her off. But then she blinks and smiles. “Sure, sounds great.”
That night, I bring over all the ingredients and make her and Morgan a traditional Chicago-style hot dog meal complete with cheese fries. They both love it and devour it all, leaving no leftovers.
It feels like sharing a meal with the three of us has sealed the deal. The acts of an actual relationship.
“Please tell me we can keep her?” Natalia looks over at Morgan with wide doe-eyes. I laugh, embarrassed, but filled with a sense of pride.
“As long as you supply the groceries, I’m happy to cook,” I speak up before Morgan can respond. “Except spinach.” Morgan shoots me a knowing glare. “Sorry, honey.” He winks.
MORGAN
Everything in my life feels like it’s coming together for the first time in years. Natalia and Aspen have really hit it off, and I can’t imagine spending each night with anyone else. I lay in bed wide-awake as Aspen sleeps cradled in my arms. She looks absolutely flawless. Her golden hair is wrapped up in a messy bun. She’s in a tank top and shorts, so simple, yet so breathtaking. The confidence just radiates off her whether she realizes it or not. She’s a beautiful person inside and out, and sometimes I wonder why she’d be interested in a guy like me.
Ryan is always on my mind but tonight more than usual. I can hardly remember the days where we weren’t at each other’s throats, but growing up together was always an adventure. He was always into athletics, but I didn’t get into lifting weights until college. We were so opposite, it’s not a surprise we would always butt heads, but as we grew older, we grew closer.
I still feel an ache in my chest at how I left things with him. I know I can’t do anything about it now, but I can devote my life to raising Natalia the best I can. I see him in her so much. His bright eyes. His laugh and smile.
I kiss the top of Aspen’s head and carefully sneak out of bed without waking her up. I walk to my office where his boxes are stored. I start unstacking them, ripping them open. I stop once I reach the picture albums. I sit against the wall as I hold them in my hand, staring at the cover that’s labeled 1980 to 1990 on it.
Slowly, I open it and see his baby pictures right away. He was my parents’ firstborn, which means he has an abundance of baby pictures. By the time I was born, he was five years old. I stare at one of our first pictures together. He’s holding me on our old couch. He held me in his lap as he smiled for the camera.
A soft smile forms on my lips as I continue flipping through. So many pictures of us growing up, playing and wrestling around in the grass. We took a family vacation every year and even some of those are in here. The one time we drove up to the Grand Canyon and I lost my first tooth along the way. When we first went to Disneyland and took pictures with Mickey and Goofy while we wore those ridiculous Mickey ears on our heads.
I flip another few pages and come across the ones of our first days of school. Mom took a picture of us in front of the same tree every year from my kindergarten year up until his senior year of high school. He’d always wrap his arm around me and stand tall, making sure he looked bigger than I did.
I lift my head as I hear the door creak open. Aspen’s silhouette peers through, and I hate that she’s going to see me this way.
“Are you all right?” She drops to her knees and touches my face. “What are you doing in here?”
I look down at the photo album and then back up to her. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“What are these?” she asks, rubbing a finger over the album.
“Family photos. They were Ryan’s.”
“Can I see?” she asks sweetly, and I can tell she’s trying to be sensitive about it.
“Of course.” I pat my hand on the floor and she shifts next to me. She loops her arm through my arm and rests her head on my shoulder as I close the album and start over from the beginning.
For the next two hours, we sit there, shifting through albums and pictures. The memories make me sad and happy at the same time. I’m glad I have them but sad we won’t have any more to make.
“You were quite the stud growing up,” she teases. “You two looked a lot alike.” Her face softens.
“Yeah, we both look a lot like our dad. The Hampton gene.”
“What happened to him?”
The kindness in her voice has me fighting the huge wave of grief. I’ve held onto it so tightly, but her genuine interest in this part of my life could very well break that dam. I flip to the end of the book where there are a couple of pictures taken on the day he graduated from the police academy. His smile was wide and proud. His then-fiancée, Lena, stood beside him as she wore her new engagement ring.
Ryan’s life had just begun. After he and Lena had married, they got pregnant with Natalia shortly after. He was all set to have his happily ever after and the career he busted his ass for, but unfortunately, things didn’t play out that way for him.
I take a deep breath and start explaining
“He’d worked for the Berkeley PD for about thirteen years at that point, but he wasn’t on duty the day he died. He had a weird addiction to gas station coffee and always went and refilled his cup before picking Natalia up from school. Some young punk walks in and starts waving a gun at the cashier, demanding he clean out the register. Ryan, being who he was, tried to talk the kid down. He waved a few other customers who were inside to hide in the back as he stayed up front with the cashier.
“According to the cashier, he was using police tactics to get him to surrender his weapon, and they could all leave unharmed. He didn’t carry his gun while he was off-duty, but it was tucked away in his car. Once he calmed the kid down and got him to lower his gun off the cashier, he tried getting him to drop it and kick it over to him. From the security tapes, it shows Ryan motioning to the cashier to get out. The cashier tripped and the kid got startled and ended up pulling the trigger.”
I’ve not looked up from his picture as I’ve talked, but I glance at Aspen, needing her reassurance to continue. There are fresh tears on her cheeks and her small hand over her mouth as if she’s trying to hold back a sob. I lean over and brush a gentle kiss on her cheek, tasting the saltiness of her tears.
She curls into me, wrapping her arms around me as best she can in this position. “Then what?” her voice soft and encouraging.
I inhale another deep breath and continue. “He hit Ryan in the side, somehow missing everything vital. Had that been the only shot, he would’ve survived. After the cashier had run out the door, Ryan tried to apply pressure and stall the bleeding. From the security tapes, you can see how the kid was getting agitated—pacing back and forth, as Ryan struggled to get a hold on the gunshot wound. The responding officer arrived quickly, but the sirens spooked him even more. He locked the front doors and continued waving his gun around. Ryan continued to talk to him, reassuring him that they could both walk out of this, but the moment more cop cars arrived, he freaked out and pulled the trigger again. That time, it finished him off.”
Aspen’s shoulders shake, and I can tell she’s trying to be strong for me. Honestly, I need that strength at this moment because reliving it all is painful, but I know I need to deal with the reality of it before I can really move forward. I need to find a way to let myself grieve.
“The kid didn’t get far after he ran out the back. They caught him only a few blocks away. He was only fifteen years old. Just a few years older than Natalia is now. A kid ruined not only his own life but stole away Nat’s whole world and my brother’s life, too. But I fully believe he died a hero that day, and I’m proud of him for sacrificing his own life to save another’s.” My voice cracks with sadness, but I try to remain strong. “I’m so angry at myself for not fixing things with him. Stubborn pride and stupidity kept me away for five years, and I’ll never get that time back.”
Aspen pulls the big book off my lap and replaces it with her body. Her slight weight and comforting arms are everything I need at this moment. I bury my face in her strawberry scented hair and release the burden of it all for the first time since I last saw him at his funeral. She grips me tighter, her voice soft and full of affection when she simply tells me how sorry she is.
She doesn’t fill the silence with a bunch of nonsense chatter or try to fix things like other people do. She gives me her acceptance and quiet strength as if she can sense that it’s exactly what I need.
A soft creak from the hallway makes both of our heads jerk up. Natalia peeks in slowly, a blanket wrapped securely around her. Her lips are turned down, and I can tell she’s heard us.
“Come here.” I nod my head toward us.
Aspen moves over slightly, making room. Natalia shuffles in between us, grabs the blanket, and unravels it. She lays it across all of our laps as we sit next to each other.
I grab the photo album and place it gently on her lap. She looks down, tracing her finger over the lines of the photos. Warmth fills my heart even though grief is consuming the rest of me.
I glance over at Aspen looking at me, her lips pulled into a soft smile. She wraps an arm around Nat and pulls her into her side. She lays her head down on top of Nat’s, giving a quick kiss on her temple before laying it back down again.
After several moments of Natalia turning the pages, I rub my hand on Aspen’s neck, getting her attention, and mouthing a quick ‘thank you.’
I feel so lucky to have someone like Aspen holding me up. I’m supposed to be doing that for her, but it’s as if she knew I needed her this time. It’s as if she knew we could be each other’s strength.
It’s at this moment I realize how hard I’m falling for her. Not just a crush or someone to fill a void, but genuine, head-over-heels, can’t-get-enough-of falling for her feelings.
It should scare the shit out of me, but all I can do is smile and hope she feels the same way, too.
