All the Waters of the Earth (Giving You ... #3) (20 page)

Too tired to think or argue with him, I gave him my mom’s number.

A few hours later, she appeared at my door with a tureen of homemade tortilla soup, the spicy, clear-your-sinuses chicken broth its own medicine. Homemade soup is a form of love. I managed some broth and went back to bed.

Jake came by that night, earlier than usual, and checked in on me. Even though I was practically comatose, I appreciated his concern. He stroked my forehead, brought me ice water, and straightened my bedsheets. Then I heard him talking with Rob in the living room for a long time, and I dozed before falling asleep.

By Christmas Eve, I could tell that the antibiotics were doing something. I felt vaguely human instead of like death.

We were set to go to my parents’ house for tamales and a good Christmas Eve dinner. My sister Celia drove up from Los Angeles and Sara and Georgie were coming, too.  My brother Gabriel couldn’t make it.  

Jake wasn’t coming, even though he was invited, because he was going to visit his dad.  But we were going to have Christmas together. I made it through the family dinner, barely, then wrapped up in a blanket and lay down on the guest bed at my parents’ house. After a while, my dad drove Rob and me home.

Christmas morning, I felt like a human being. I was still sick, but now living and human. Jake knocked on the door early and made us coffee.  He and Rob made muffins out of a mix and cut up some fruit for a salad. It was the best thing ever. While our celebration was tiny and subdued, it still felt special.

I curled up on the couch with a cup of coffee, wrapped in a blanket, and watched Rob open his presents. I gave Jake a card that said,
Good for one weekend trip away, my treat
.  Careful of how to act around Rob, he reached over and ran his finger along my hand. “Thank you.  We’ll use this as soon as you feel better.”

He stood up, went to the tree, and pulled out two identically wrapped packages.  Handing them to me, he said, “These are for you from me and Rob.”

Surprised, I slid my finger under the tape of the first one.

It was a framed drawing by Rob of me. Jake had clearly spent time with Rob helping him draw because the picture, although childish, captured me—my hair, face, clothes, expression. I was smiling in the picture and smiling in real life.

“Did you draw this, mijo?”

“Yeah, Mom.”

“You did such a good job. I want to know when you did this, and I want to know all about it.  First come here and let me kiss you.”

“You sure you’re not contagious?”  Rob looked wary.

“The doctor says no.”

“Mister Jake and I spent time drawing when he watched me and when you were sick. It’s fun.”

I shook my head. “It’s more than fun, son. It’s art. It’s wonderful.” And then I turned to Jake. “It’s so wonderful I might cry.”

He beamed. “Open the other one.”

I opened another drawing of me, framed and matted identically, but this one was by Jake. In it I was looking over my shoulder back at him, my ass in a mini skirt, my feet in high heels, and my mojo all on display. It was totally me—at least me when I was healthy.

“I love it, guapo,” I whispered. “Thank you. We’ll put them up today.”

Jake nodded, and Rob said, “We thought you might like a homemade present, Mom.”

“Yes, mijo, I do.” I didn’t know how to express how much it meant to me that a man, not Rob’s father, took the time not only to teach him how to do something but show that it mattered—by presenting his creativity in a way that gave it legitimacy. I was honored by the present, and I was honored to know him.

So instead of saying this, I leaned over and kissed Jake lightly, in front of my son. “Thanks.  And Merry Christmas.”

 

 

 

 

 

The next day, I felt even better and took Rob to Carlos’s house.  The order required a twenty-four hour visit from nine in the morning to the next day at nine. Obviously I wasn’t happy to leave Rob with his dad after what had happened the last time, but there was nothing I could do about it. Watching Rob walk up the pathway to the front door, my heart dipped down low and stayed there, even after I saw him wave at me and the door close behind him.

I drove back home, cleaned up the detritus from the day before, and then decided to indulge in a spa day at home. I gave myself a facial and a pedicure, took a long bath, and a nap. This was a definition of heaven.

Earlier, I’d heard Jake do his usual routine of getting up, going for a run, getting ready, and going to the office, even though it was the day after Christmas. I shook my head. He still needed to learn that it was okay for him not to work crazy hours. Easy for me to say, though, progress on my book was going well, despite an interruption due to my illness.

That evening, late-ish, he came over for dinner, dressed in his suit and tie. As we ate, we chatted about his day and how I felt. Then I asked, “When are we going to take your vacation?”

He looked at me thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I’ll have to get out my calendar and check my work schedule.”

“Seriously? Pick a weekend and we’ll go. It’s better if it’s a weekend that Rob’s dad is watching him, but if not, I’ll ask my parents to watch him.”  It was too damn hard to convince him to take a break that wasn’t an emergency.

He looked at me, his cool dark eyes registering an emotion that I didn’t understand. “For you, I’ll do it.” And it felt like it was settled.

After dinner, he took off his tie and we sat outside on the patio, looking at the pool and drinking wine. At Christmas time in California, you had to put on the air conditioning to have a fire in the fireplace. Tonight was no exception—even though it was cool, it wasn’t cold. You could go swimming.

That gave me an idea.

“Come in the hot tub.  Time to get some warm water on us.  I think it will feel good.”

Unlike scheduling a vacation, on this he caved easily. “Alright. I’ll meet you out there.”

As Jake walked back into his home, I heard his cell phone ring. “Don’t answer your phone,
cariño
,” I whispered to myself, willing him to be stronger than it.

Dammit, he answered it.

So we still needed to work on that.

I headed into my house and changed into my bathing suit. I wore my navy blue string bikini this time, with high-heeled espadrilles. Toting a towel under my arm and taking my keys, I teetered down to the pool, set down the towel, slipped off my shoes, turned on the jets, and tiptoed into the hot tub.

Aaaaahhhhh.

The complex had quieted down and gone to bed for the night, although you were allowed to swim until ten. There were a few lights on in rooms, but otherwise it was a silent night.

A few moments later, Jake strolled down, holding a towel, barefoot, shirtless, wearing black swim trunks that sat low on his hips, tied with a white string. I wanted to undo that string. Between his work schedule and my time with Rob, even though I lived next door to Jake, I didn’t get to spend much time with him naked. But since shirtless Jake was yummy yummy, this would have to do for now.

He walked over to the side of the hot tub and hopped down next to me. In the cool evening air, the steam from the water lingered a constant foot or more above it, creating patterns in the night. A dim light lit the water beneath us, but instead of being clear, the stream of air from the jets made the water an opaque white.

I wrapped my arms around his toned tummy and put my legs in his lap, cuddling into his chest as he cradled me. He kissed the top of my head, and put his finger under my chin, lifting it up and kissing my nose.  Leaning in, he kissed me for real, very softly, very slowly, and very deeply. “Um-yum-yum,” I moaned into his mouth, and the tone of our kiss went from cuddling to erotic. We bit gently at each other’s lips, tasted each other’s mouths, caressed the inside of the other with our tongues.

As the water bubbled around us, I ran my fingers up and down his back and his torso, while he held my back firmly. I could feel the stirrings of his erection under my leg resting on his lap, which made me feel oh-so-turned-on. He broke apart from our kiss.

Then.

“You had public sex down as a fantasy in your book, right?” Jake let his lips brush my ear as he spoke.

“Uh, yeah,” I responded tentatively.

“It’s dark and there’s no one around.”

I shivered all over, even though I was bathed in the hot water, and shook my head in disbelief. Then I looked at him. “Are you serious?”

He nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Now.” And he pulled me into his lap so that I was straddling him.

Okay, now this was naughty. We were out in the middle of a housing development, where anyone could open up their window, look out, and see. They probably wouldn’t see anything but a couple making out, but still, it felt like we were going to go show everyone, and that felt über hot.

I ran my hand down his chest to his trunks, felt for that pretty white string, and tugged, loosening it. Then, under the water, I slipped his trunks down his hips, freeing his hardening cock.

“Yes,” I whispered back. “We’re gonna do his.”

Reaching between my legs, I started stroking his cock, as the water swirled around us, getting him aroused, letting him grow. The soft skin of his hard tip felt extra reactive beneath the water, twitching at my touch. He reached a hand into my bikini bottoms, at first grazing my clit, then rubbing it for real as he slowly and gently fingered me. He slipped two fingers into me, and I moaned again into his mouth.

Even though we hadn’t had sex with each other for a while, it felt like we had all the time in the world. Everything was slow—caressing, feeling, touching. After he was fully hard and I was bothered, he broke our kiss.  “Ready?”

I nodded. He untied my bikini bottom and pulled it off of me, setting it on the pool coping. Then he held my hip with one hand, positioning his cock with the other, and guided me down onto him.

With pleasure, I sunk down onto him, enjoying the way it all felt, all of the sensations—the cool night air, the warm water, his strong arms, his big cock in me. Holding my ass, he held me down. Then he guided me up, slowly, and it was his turn to moan. Then slowly, down again, riding him. Repeated. Leisurely, but with focus, strength, heat.

He reached between us and resumed fingering my clit as I continued to ride him, measured, deliberate, and sensual. Heaven help me, this was hot. The water was warm, my pussy stimulated, and my feet began to get super-hot from the blood flow around my body. Down, again and again, and then up, slowly, quietly, I made love to Jake in public.

And then I felt it. The quickening that I was going to climax. “I’m going to come,” I warned him.  Still, he continued to finger me, filling me up from the inside and massaging me on the outside. With a hallelujah and an angel’s chorus, my body shuddered and climaxed.  I desperately reached for Jake’s mouth to muffle my moans.

After I came, he held my ample booty with both hands, guiding it up and down, but this time faster. I angled my body, made more friction for him, and he threw his head back, then returned, looked at me, and with a burst, came inside me, pumping, a raw look in his eyes. He held me down as he thrust up, and this set off a chain reaction that made me come again.

This was another definition of heaven.

The timer for the jets turned off.

Wrapping his arms around my back tightly, he ducked his head onto my shoulder and hugged me tightly.

“Stay with me tonight.”

“Okay.”

He kissed me softly, and then kissed my nose, retrieved my bikini bottoms, and tugged his pants back up. Dripping in the cool night air, we hurried for our towels and headed back up to our homes. I looked forward to being in bed
with
Jake instead of
next to
him or
next
door
to him.  Not separate.  Together.

 

 

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