22. Twenty-Two

Twenty-Two

Anna

It's late, and I'm sitting in the armchair watching Connor sleep. He looks so young and helpless when he's like this.

I lean my head back against the wide armchair. I snuggle into it and get more comfortable. I wrap my arms around my legs and pull them against my chest. It's late, and I'd rather be in bed, but I'm worried because Carson isn't back yet. I sigh. I hate feeling this tension between us, but I don't know if I'm ready to forgive him just yet.

I feel the hot sting of tears again, but I refuse to let them fall. Instead, I throw fuel on the fire of my anger as I mutter mockingly, "Besides, I'm not even his friend. No. I'm just an acquaintance…"

He already apologized, and the logical part of me whispers, how should he have introduced you? ‘Hi, this is Anna, my date.' No, we're not dating. ‘My girlfriend.' I grimace . ‘This is Anna, my lover, the mother of my child, whom I just discovered I had. Oh, what you hadn't heard?' I shake my head and roll my eyes at my silly internal dialog. But it's helped soothe my hurt feelings and appeased my anger.

The other reason I haven't gone to bed is that I don't know if I should sleep in the master bedroom when things are so unsettled. Should I sleep in the spare room? Won't that reinforce the wall between us? If I'm honest, I'd rather fall asleep in Carson's arms than alone in the spare bedroom… I snuggle deeper into the armchair.

I wake up as strong arms, warm and familiar, envelope me before I can even register what is happening. My eyelids flutter open, seeing Carson's face close to mine as he scoops me up and gently holds me to his chest. He carries me into the master bedroom, shuts the door, then lays me carefully on the bed.

Seeing I'm awake, he softly takes my hand in his, "Anna. I'm sorry. I should have told you… the reason I could never be your friend… is because you are, and have always been, way more than a friend. I desire you too much."

He squeezes my hand and then gives me an earnest look, "I feel many emotions when we're together, but being friendly is not one of them." He takes a deep breath and then says, "As for being my acquaintance - I know I already apologized for that, but I wasn't prepared to introduce you to someone who didn't know about Connor." He looks directly into my eyes so I can see the sincerity in his eyes.

Carson's words flow over me like a wave, washing away the hurt and leaving behind a glimmer of something precious… a fragile hope for our future.

He gently brushes the back of my hand with his lips. Even that soft touch makes me shiver. His eyes start to gleam, and he leans forward and gives me a sweet kiss.

At least it starts out as sweet. When I raise my arms to pull him down against me, the kiss deepens. Then, as always, just one touch and that small flame of desire is soon a raging inferno.

Suddenly, there are too many barriers between us; we're both desperate to be naked. He's pulling my shirt over my head, and I'm trying to pull off his T-shirt. Next, my hands fumble to unbutton his jeans. We help each other as our clothes fly off and land around the room. Until, finally, it's just bare skin against bare skin. Then he lands on the bed beside me and urgently pulls me on top of him.

"Ride me, Anna," he whispers hoarsely as he grips my hips and helps position me above him. I lower myself onto his hardness inch by inch until I'm fully seated. We both gasp in satisfaction at the intimate connection.

Then I start to rock against him. I go in a circular motion, slow and steady, and I hear him give a low groan. I throw my head back and feel my long hair cascade down my back.

Carson's hands reach up and cover my breasts. He fondles them as I continue to move above him. When he lets out another groan, I grin at him. He makes me feel so wanton, so… womanly. Knowing I can bring him to this sexual level is intoxicating. I half close my eyes as I deliberately increase the pace, wanting him to lose control.

As I again move in a circular motion against him, he rasps, "Anna… Baby. That feels so fucking good."

I purposely slow the pace as I make the same motion again. "You're killing me," he grinds out. Then I feel his broad hands as he grips my hips, wanting me to go faster.

"It's only what you deserve." I taunt him with a teasing smile. His hands suddenly tighten, and he rolls until I'm on my back, and then he's on top of me. My startled eyes meet his.

"This is what you deserve," he says gruffly as I feel his cock surge into me. Then, neither of us can speak as he continues to stroke into me. We both shout out as bliss takes us, and he empties himself into me. As I lay their spent, Carson gets out of bed and strides naked into the bathroom.

When he comes back, he has a warm washcloth and slowly cleans me. "Carson, you don't have to—" He cuts me off with a soft kiss. "I want to," he says gruffly, "You take good care of us, Anna. It's about time someone takes care of you." I'm left speechless at his words. The sincerity in his eye sends a warm feeling flowing through me.

Once he's done, he takes the washcloth back into the bathroom and stops to open our bedroom door wide.

After he crawls back into bed, he pulls me closer. I snuggle up against him. There's a huge smile on my face because I know Carson left the door open so we could hear if Connor needs us during the night.

That open door feels like a symbol of our newfound unity, a silent promise that we can face whatever comes next together. The dim light filtering in from the hallway casts long shadows on the wall, but within the circle of Carson's arms, I feel safe, secure, and cared for.

The rest of the week goes by in a blur as Connor's health improves. By the weekend, he's feeling bored, restless, and ready to climb the walls. We've watched movies and played cards as well as video games.

We hear the front door open, and we look up in surprise as Carson walks in. "You're home early," I say with a look of surprise. Connor jumps up and runs to the door. "Hey, Son. It looks like you're feeling better," Carson says with a pleased grin.

"I am… but Mom won't let me do anything," Connor mumbles with a pout. "I've been cooped up in here all day. It's boring!"

Carson laughs, but I roll my eyes. "Yes, he's bored, and I'm feeling the strain of trying to keep an energetic ten-year-old entertained for hours on end," I admit.

"Well, if your mother thinks it's a good idea. I thought, maybe, we could go fishing." Both sets of eyes turn toward me. "What do you think, Anna? It isn't too strenuous. It would get Connor outside…" As I hesitate, he adds, "And out of your hair. Besides, you need a break."

"It sounds perfect for all of us," I say, giving Carson an appreciative look. Connor whoops and runs to his bedroom. Then he comes back out with a frown on his face. "What do you wear when you fish?"

Carson grins and says, "I'm wearing shorts and a T-shirt."

I smile a mile wide when both of them reappear, matched similarly in navy blue shorts and white T-shirts. They look so much alike that I get a lump in my throat. "Here, I hand Carson a small cooler filled with ice and cans of soda. I also give him a bag filled with snacks, and I warn him, "Connor's got his appetite back."

Carson gives me a brief kiss while Connor hugs me goodbye. The door shuts behind them, and silence settles over the apartment, a balm to my frayed nerves. I look around the empty apartment, and my grin blossoms into a wide smile.

It's later when I glance at the clock with a feeling of satisfaction. The afternoon has flown by, and I've made good use of my time. I've soaked in a hot bubble bath, painted my nails, and read a few chapters on my e-reader of the latest romance book. A surprise dessert sits in the fridge, and I have a casserole bubbling in the oven, awaiting their return.

After spending the afternoon fishing, they enter the apartment, grinning from ear to ear. "Did you catch anything?" I ask with raised eyebrows. "Yes!" Connor practically shouts, his face beaming with excitement. He launches into a detailed account of their shared afternoon, punctuated by dramatic hand gestures to show the size of the fish.

Carson and I exchange a glance over Connor's head, sharing a grin at our son's unrestrained enthusiasm. "Then we released them back into the water, and they swam away."

Carson, a proud smile, tugging at his lips. "Connor did great out there. He even caught twice as many fish as I did!"

A wide grin splits my son's face, his eyes sparkling with delight at his accomplishment and his father's praise.

Carson states, "We stored the gear in the storage room. So, it's ready for next time." He takes in a deep breath and glances into the kitchen. "What do you have cooking? It smells amazing!"

Connor rubs his stomach as he lifts his nose in the air to take a whiff, "Yeah, it does. I'm starving."

I smile as I inform them, "It's Chicken Tetrazzini. I'll get it out of the oven while you guys wash up."

When they return, we all gather around the table while the aroma of the delicious food continues to fill the air. Connor's laughter rings clear, speaking volumes of his recovery. The flush of vitality shows on his cheeks, and his eyes sparkle with mischief from their fishing escapade.

A wave of warmth floods through me as I witness the joy unfolding before my eyes. Leaning back, I let a quiet smile curl my lips, basking in the glow of their enthusiasm. As Connor entertains us with tales of their shared afternoon, each chuckle, each glance, stitches our family fabric tighter. It's a moment that paints a hopeful picture for our future—bright yet fragile.

After we've finished dinner, they both help clear the table. "Why don't you guys pick out a movie while I put the dishes in the dishwasher?"

Connor eagerly bounds toward the living room, with Carson following him more slowly. After loading the dishwasher, I serve the decadent dessert and carry the plates to the living room.

"Who wants dessert?" I ask with a grin. Two sets of eyes widen in surprise. "I do!" Connor yells immediately, while Carson just holds out his hand for the plate. I give him his serving and then get Connor settled so there's less chance of a spill. As they take their first bite, I wait to see how they like it.

"Mom! This is great! I love cherries!" While Carson states, less vocally but with obvious appreciation, "Damn. This is delicious, Anna."

I do a mock curtsy, "Thank you. It's called Cherry Delight. Graham cracker crust, cream cheese filling, and cherries." I tick off the ingredients as they dig in. "It's been quite a while since I made this. In fact, the last time I made this, I was…" My words suddenly trail off, and they both look at me with identically raised eyebrows. I shrug, "Sorry. I… lost my train of thought. It's been so long that I don't remember when I last made this dessert." I say with a self-deprecating grimace and a shrug.

Connor pipes up, "Dad, can we watch the movie now?" Carson hits the play button, and I sit back as the action movie scrolls across the screen, but my mind is elsewhere.