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Authors: Keren Hughes
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By Keren Hughes
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Copyright © 2016 by Keren Hughes.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: July 2016
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-722-7
ISBN-10: 1-68058-722-6
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
The saddest moment is when the person who gave you the best memories becomes a memory.
~Unknown
Do you think that love comes but once in a lifetime? Do you believe that fate is mapped out for us and we meet our one true soulmate? Is there even such a thing as soulmates? Sometimes I ask myself these questions and more besides. For the life of me, I cannot figure out the answers. The biggest question I ask myself though, is, ‘when will I know all the answers?’
These are questions I pondered growing up and I thought that when I grew up, I would have all the answers. Now I’m all grown up, but I’m still as clueless as I was as a naïve teenager going through the first flushes of love. Looking back now, I question whether any of my past relationships were love at all or were they more like infatuation? I used to ask myself ‘what is love?’ That question has had many answers over the years, with each relationship come and gone, love changed definition. But did the definition ever actually change or was I never in love? So many questions and so few answers.
Whether the relationships I had back then were love or not, they, in some way—be it big or small—helped shape me into the person I am today. I don’t claim to be an expert in love, but I would like to believe that I was in love once, with a man named Drake Anderson. Even his name makes my heart skip a beat. I close my eyes and picture the happier times we had together and my heart feels as though it’s being gripped in a vice. I can be listening to a song on the radio that makes my heart soar to remember the good times, or it can have the opposite effect and the next thing I know I’m doubled over in physical pain because I can’t reach out and touch him. My fingers have forgotten what he feels like, my sense of smell has forgotten his cologne, my lips no longer know what it’s like to be kissed by him—those things are all locked in a box in the back of my mind—I know he felt good, smelled good, was a passionate kisser, but these are no longer things I get to experience on a daily basis.
I miss Drake’s smile, his tender touch, and his soothing words. He’s such an amazing man. He’s genuine, loving, and passionate. Every smile on his lips is like a piece of heaven itself. I think if I was made to love any man, it’s him.
***
I loved the way the purple stone shone in the light. It looked different from every angle. The two diamonds were set off to the sides of the tanzanite gem in the centre and brought a bit of class to the white gold band. The simplicity of the ring itself was stunning. I’ve never needed big, over the top jewellery—none of this flashy “I’ve got a lot of money and it shows” kind of attitude—I’ve always been fonder of small, classy pieces of elegance.
A smile graced my lips as I sat and twirled the band round my finger. We were so happy when we first met. Drake had this magnetism about him. He was my boss at work and we were friends before it developed into a relationship. We had a bit of an unusual start to our life together though because I had recently found out that I was carrying my ex’s baby. I wasn’t far along in the pregnancy—ten weeks to be precise. We hadn’t yet told Drake’s family because we wanted to wait until after the twelve week scan. When we did tell them, they were happy for us. We had decided to bring this baby up as “ours” because the biological father was no longer on the scene—we had split when I found out I was pregnant because he’d wanted me to have an abortion and having never believed in them, I had vehemently disagreed—the end of our relationship was quite clean cut. I had packed my bags and left. It was as simple as that. My grandmother had taken me in until I could get on my own two feet, and at eight weeks pregnant, I found somewhere temporary to live.
Drake was wonderful. He was kind, loving, generous, and funny, and had a dry sense of humour to match that of my own. We were both very sarcastic and just seemed to gel together. We soon found a place of our own and started our life together. He came to every scan and doctor’s appointment, and held my hand every step of the way.
Ayden was born and we fell instantly in love with him. He had the most beautiful little face, blue eyes, a button nose, and a mop of blond hair. After eight hours of labour, which didn’t seem a lot compared to other mothers on the ward, Ayden Duncan—or perhaps Anderson, as we hadn’t made a decision about his surname—was finally here.
The day we took Ayden home and placed him in the cot in his jungle themed nursery was one of the happiest days of our lives. In fact, the only times I’ve felt anywhere near as happy are the day that Drake popped the question and the wedding day itself.
I twisted my wedding band around my finger and wondered what happened to our life. What had gone so wrong that Drake had just upped and left one day? He had come downstairs one night in August after putting Ayden to bed and said those words that all women know the real meaning behind…
“We need to talk.”
I knew this could only mean something bad. Drake wasn’t one to talk about his feelings, he’d rather bottle things up. So I heard those words and then found myself blurting out,
“No that means you need to leave. Well, if that’s what you need to do, Drake, then don’t let me stand in your way. Pack your things and go, but don’t expect me to tell Ayden why he doesn’t have a daddy anymore. Be a man, grow a pair, and tell that kid what’s going on.”
Ayden was only six and a half at the time and though we had always planned to tell him one day about his biological father, I hadn’t expected to have to tell him so soon—we’d wanted to wait until he was old enough to understand—but who’s to say when the time would be right? None of that mattered now as Drake was walking out of our lives and he had to be man enough to tell his son why he would no longer be around. Needless to say, Ayden hadn’t fully understood, but he knew that Daddy was leaving Mommy and that it would just be Ayden and Mommy from now on. I think Ayden always assumed that Daddy would be back…after all, it wasn’t the first time Drake and I had broken up, but I knew in my heart it would be the last.
Annalise
Ayden and I decided to go and play over at the local park. We took a football to have a kick around and a blanket to sit on to soak up some of the glorious sunshine. Yet again, I had absolutely no clue where Drake had disappeared to. At first, he’d always tell me if he was going out, where he’d be, and how long he’d be gone. He didn’t want me to worry about him and he’d always text me to let me know he had arrived safely. But more and more recently he was disappearing after work and he would be gone for differing lengths of time—sometimes he’d be back an hour later than normal, but other times he would be gone for several hours—and there was nothing I could do about it. That afternoon was no different. I’d told him I was taking Ayden to the park and Drake had made excuses saying there was somewhere he needed to be and he’d meet us at the park when he was done.
We’d played on the swings and slides, even on the merry-go-round. We’d kicked the football around with some of his friends from school who happened to be at the park. I had set the blanket out and we’d had a little picnic together, all the while my phone remained silent. No missed texts or calls and I was beginning to get a little sick of the deafening silence.
“Mommy,” Ayden’s sweet little voice broke into my thoughts.
“Yes, darling?” I asked, looking at him and giving my gorgeous boy a smile.
“When will Daddy be here? I thought he would be here to play football with me.”
I saw the disappointment flash across his handsome features and was immediately hit with a wave of sorrow. But that sorrow was laced with anger too. Drake had promised he would meet us at the park and he had failed his son. He wouldn’t get away unscathed.
“He’s stuck at work, buddy. He sent a text to say he was sorry.” The practised lie rolled off my tongue but tasted bitter.
“Oh.” The fallen look on my boy’s face made my heart hurt more than anything.
“How about we go home and get cleaned up, and then maybe if Daddy gets home early enough we can go out and have something to eat together?” I asked as I started to pack away the remains of our picnic.
“He won’t be home, Mommy. He never is.” Ayden’s voice broke and I saw the glistening of unshed tears in his blue eyes.
I took my boy in my arms and stroked his back. I whispered soothing words in his ear, none of it really making much sense, just white noise really, but it calmed him nonetheless. His breathing evened out and his little arms loosened their hold on me. He stood and looked me dead in the eyes.
“It’s okay, Mommy. We can eat without him and bring him something home.”
It’s something we’ve done frequently and time and again I have ended up throwing it in the bin because Drake doesn’t come home until some ungodly hour, so I get pissy with him for not calling or texting, then I throw his food away in a bid to make myself feel a bit better. He could starve for all I care.
Ayden and I made our way home hand in hand and we sang a song to cheer ourselves up. Ayden liked to sing and skip down the road, so I tried to let his sparkle distract me from his ignorant father. We unlocked the door and saw Drake sat at the kitchen island as we entered to pack away the picnic things. He was whispering on his phone and hung up just as we got to the kitchen door. I was instantly angry, the little hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I realised it was okay for him to come home and talk to someone else on the phone, but he didn’t have time for his wife and son.
“Daddy!” Ayden exclaimed as he ran and wrapped his arms around Drake’s neck.
“Ayden,” Drake said on an outbreath of air as his son tackle hugged him.
I smiled as I saw the two boys in my life embrace each other. No matter how mad I got at Drake, it was scenes like this one playing out in front of me that remind me how much I love him. He looked over at me and I saw guilt flash in his eyes.
“Why didn’t you make it to the park, Daddy?” Ayden asked as he scrambled off Drake’s lap and onto a barstool at the kitchen island.
“Sorry, buddy,” Drake said as he ruffled Ayden’s blond hair. “I was caught up at work, but I’m home now and it’s the weekend, so I have two whole days off to spend with you.”
“Yay!”
Ayden exclaimed with a fist bump against his Dad’s knuckles.
“Sorry, baby,” Drake whispered to me as he caught hold of my hand as I turned to walk from the kitchen. I needed to stay mad at him. Well, I didn’t
need
to, but I wanted to. I wanted him to know that making and breaking promises to a four-year-old isn’t on. But seeing them together, seeing the smile grace my husband’s handsome face, my heart skipped and I had to keep reminding myself that I was mad at him for good reason and he couldn’t keep using the same old time-worn excuse.
I pulled my hand from his grasp and walked back down the hall towards the staircase. I didn’t like to argue in front of Ayden, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t let Drake know exactly what I thought of him for letting his son down yet again.
I ascended the stairs and walked into our bedroom, closing the door behind me. I sat on the edge of our bed and I cradled my face in my hands. A long, deep breath in and out is all that could be heard in the silence of my room. This room had always been my sanctuary with its deep purple walls and plush black carpet. Drake had helped me decorate it just how I wanted it. The wall at the head of the bed was painted a blackcurrant colour with silver butterflies gracing each corner. The other walls were a scallop pink with purple butterflies in the corners, but the chimney breast was painted blackcurrant so that it stood out. I had a chandelier made of purple and clear crystal butterflies in the centre of the room and a gorgeous en-suite wet room. I liked nothing less than taking a bath, so we only had a shower in that room. The main bathroom of the house was where the bath was located. Drake always liked to soak his muscles after a Saturday football match with his five-a-side team, so I had acquiesced and let him put a deep, claw-footed bath in the centre of the room.
I made my way down the hall and into our master bathroom. I might not like taking a bath, but I needed to get some space away from Drake. He could spend time with his son as he should have done earlier in the day, so I started to draw a bath and added some scented bath salts to the water as I stripped out of my clothes and wrapped a robe around myself until the bath was ready. I hung my clothes on the back of the door and turned the key to give myself some privacy.
The hot water felt good as it caressed my skin. I lowered myself into the tub and lay back against the high set back that had been one of the reasons we had chosen this particular bath. I closed my eyes and let myself drift into a semi-sleep state.
I heard the door unlock from the other side somehow and then there were footsteps across the marble bathroom floor. Drake knelt down beside the bath and claimed my lips with his. My mouth opened to accept his tongue against my own, the taste of the kiss was a mixture of whiskey and mint. Desire began to pool low in my abdomen as Drake’s fingers grazed across my nipples, pulling them between his deft fingers as he assaulted my mouth with his. His mouth moved across my jawline, his breath hot as he made his way down the curve of my neck and travelled lower to my breasts. He took each nipple in his mouth in turn, biting them gently to bring them to a taut peak. My breathing was coming in shallower gasps as I felt his hand travel further south below the line of the water. I moaned loudly as his thumb circled my clit and I relaxed my posture, opening my legs further to give him easier access. His mouth back on mine swallowed my long moan as he pushed one finger inside me then another; he swirled his fingers around, hitting my g-spot with each finger in turn. I reached my wet hand up and tangled it in his hair, pulling him closer, turning the kiss deeper as my desire grew. His fingers worked me until I was coming hard and fast, moaning his name into his mouth. It took me a few moments to gather my thoughts but when I did, I stood from the bath and Drake held my hand as I climbed out of the tub. Once stood on firm ground, I tore at the buttons of his work shirt and he pulled at his belt, tugging it free from his trousers. My fingers, though still wet, made light work of his button and zipper. I pushed his trousers down and he kicked them to one side. I looked at this god of a man stood before me in nothing but his boxers and lust clouded my mind as I saw that he was rock hard. His brown hair stood on end where I had tugged it in all different directions, his green eyes looked into mine and I saw the fire behind them. I couldn’t hold back any longer, every second was a painful one. My breasts crushed against his bare chest and my hand reached down the front of his boxers to stroke his erection. I gripped the base of his shaft in my hand and began to work him as he had done to me, only difference being I wasn’t going to let him come until he was inside me. We were trying for another baby, and spontaneous, glorious fucking was what was on the agenda today if this moment was anything to go by.
A loud knocking on the bathroom door pulled me from my thoughts. I hadn’t realised that my fingers had slid underneath the water and were working of their own accord to bring me to a release. I couldn’t answer the knocking as the selfish side of me needed that release now more than ever. It had been weeks since Drake had touched me in such a way. When we went to bed, it was almost as if we moved on autopilot, no spontaneity, no lust, just robotic movements; he kissed me but with no love behind it, then he thrust inside me until he came and I faked my own orgasm so I could just turn over and go to sleep.
One more knock at the door before I heard retreating footsteps across the landing. I quietly slid another finger inside myself and brought myself to climax, biting my lip to keep from making a noise. I rose from the bath, wrapped the robe around me again, and climbed out of the now luke-warm water. I hadn’t even washed my hair.
Walking into my bedroom, I saw Drake half dressed. My eyes drank in the sight before me, no matter how much we might row, I still loved Drake with all my heart, and the sight of his ripped chest had my mouth watering. I caught something flashing in his eyes as he looked up and saw me in the doorway. It’s a look I hadn’t seen in a while now. Before I knew what was happening, Drake was across the room in a few strides. He shut and locked the bedroom door behind me and pulled me into his arms. His tongue sought entry to my mouth and for once, it felt as though he wasn’t just going through the motions. I opened my mouth to him and he tasted like whiskey. Nothing new there, but I didn’t find it a turn-off. If anything, it was a heady mixture between tasting the alcohol on his breath and inhaling the scent of his favourite cologne. In an instant I was pushed against the bedroom door and my robe fell open as he pulled the belt out of the loops.
“What about Ayden?” I whispered.
“He’s gone next door to play with Kane. They’re having a little pool party and they invited him. It’s just you and me, baby.”
I gasped, realising that it must have been Drake knocking on the bathroom door and in a flash I wondered whether he was wanting a bath, whether he was after sex while Ayden was out, or neither of those things. But I didn’t have time to care about that right now as Drake’s lips claimed mine in a deep, sensual kiss. His hands wandered over my body, stroking my soft curves and making their way to my breasts. His fingers pulled each nipple gently to taut peaks and then his lips left mine and I moaned as he sucked one nipple into his mouth. It had been too long since we’d done this without acting like automatons. My hand fisted in his hair and pulled him closer to me. He knew this to be a signal to bite me harder, so he obliged. Then his mouth kissed a trail in the valley between my breasts before taking the other into his warm, wet, inviting mouth. I hesitated no more, I was his to do with as he pleased. I reached down and undid his button and zipper. I slid my hand into the front of his boxers and gripped his cock firmly, stroking up and down slowly. As Drake bit me harder, the pressure of my grip increased, we knew each other’s bodies and signals so well by now, having been together for nearly five years.
Drake’s lips left mine momentarily as he moved to pull his jeans and boxers completely off. When he moved closer to me again, he gripped behind my knees and brought my legs around his waist, thrusting into me without any further preamble. I moaned loudly at the feeling of him inside me, my walls clenched involuntarily.
“Holy fuck!” Drake exclaimed as he thrust into me gently. In and out, just as simple as that, but it was something my body had craved for what felt like an eternity. And it seemed he had too. His speed increased as he found his rhythm and heat began to fill my body. I could feel it coil inside me, ready for release, but I held off as long as I could in order to prolong this closeness with my husband for fear it might be a long time before it happened again. No matter what my body wanted, it seemed my brain could still be a little pessimistic.
“Oh god, baby, you feel so fucking good. It’s been too long. I want to feel you come, to feel your nails rake down my back,” Drake whispered seductively as he turned us around and headed for our bed.
Next thing I knew, I was being lowered to our mattress and my husband stared down at me through hooded eyes. He liked what he saw, even after all these years. It was like he was gazing upon me for the first time. Our bodies were still joined, though it took Drake a moment to resume movement. But when he did, holy fuck. I had never wanted to come so badly in my life. My hands travelled across his broad shoulders and my nails began to dig in and leave a trail as I dragged them down his back and marked him as mine. He stilled momentarily and let out a guttural growl before pushing harder and faster into me. I was moments from my bliss, but I wanted to make sure he got there too. I dug my heels into his firm ass, pulling him closer to me. My lips sought his and the ensuing kiss was both rough and sexy as all hell. Our teeth clashed, our tongues rolled over each other, and Drake upped the ante. His rhythm faltered and I took over, pushing my hips up to meet him at a frantic pace, each seeking to find the other’s release, not our own.