27. Twenty-Seven

Twenty-Seven

Carson

It's the end of the week. I grimace as I glance at the clock. It's another late night at the office. I force my attention back to the handful of people sitting around the wide conference table. Its mahogany surface is polished to a high shine that gleams from the fluorescent lights above.

"Gentlemen, is there anything else we need to discuss, or can we conclude the meeting?"

I see nods of relief as briefcases are snapped open and chairs are scraped back. I give a cynical smile. They didn't get exactly what they wanted, but neither did I. I held firm in the face of their joint opposition. In the long run, I secured another two years with our biggest client.

Knight Security is massive. Even though we're headquartered in Jacksonville, we have clients all over the country; we take care of their every security need. We monitor and maintain their security cameras and any surveillance. Two years ago, we agreed to partner on some software with Val's family company, Carlucci Software, and that was a strategic move. It placed us in a superior position over the competition.

As the door shuts behind the last person, I stand up and stretch, the familiar ache in my lower back, a dull throb. This is the third time this week that I've been caught at the office for one reason or another.

A victory for Knight Security, but the satisfaction feels hollow. I shake my head at the irony. There was a time when I would rather be at work than at home.

Now, with Anna and Connor, I almost resent the time away from them. These late nights feel like stolen moments. Some CEO I am, I think with a laugh. But I know that the early years of ceaseless effort have put the company in an enviable position. Now, it practically runs itself. Well, almost, I admit, with a smirk.

I reach for the familiar, worn leather of my briefcase—home beacons, more alluring than the thrill of closing this deal.

The apartment's silence lets me know that everyone is already in bed. I softly walk through the dimly lit rooms and approach Connor's bed. I quietly open the door and look over at him. I was only going to check on him, but the quiet, rhythmic sound of his breathing lures me forward.

I walk into his room and then settle into the armchair. I lean my head wearily back against its plush back and close my eyes as I listen to the contented sound of my son's breathing.

My son. Even now, it brings a smile to my face. Living my life as a bachelor I had no idea of the joy and contentment that a child could bring. And Anna, even though I sit here, there's a part of me that won't be satisfied until I pull her warm body up against my chest. Only then do I fall into a deep sleep.

She warms my bed and my heart. I'm torn because I crave a deeper connection with her, but I shudder at the thought of marriage. But what future do we have together, if not marriage?

I guess we could keep the status quo, but… I shake my head. I want the vows. I want a woman, a wife that I can trust—someone who will stand beside me through thick and thin, rich or poor. I give a bitter, silent laugh as I recognize the familiar words. They're marriage vows. Sickness or in health. Dammit! They mean something. How could she just ignore them? Knowing they mean nothing to her cuts deep, like a sharp knife.

Can I offer her marriage feeling the way I do? I grimace. My feelings run deep. I hesitate to think about the word love… but I know what we have feels right. She's everything I ever wanted in a partner. The sex is phenomenal and off the charts. Hell, even the way she cooks and cares for me and Connor is more than I ever dreamed. She just plain cares.

I'm sure being married to such an older man wasn't easy. Her sexual appetites match mine. For now, we'll live together and raise our son. That will have to be enough; I can't offer her anything more. A heavy sigh escapes my lips. Decision made, I wearily stand and make my way into the master bedroom.

Anna lies curled on her side, her knees drawn up to her stomach. Her chestnut hair lies like a dark banner against the white sheets. Her dark lashes against her pale skin make her look young, like a child. My eyes travel over her body, visible beneath the thin white nightgown.

As I observe her lush form, I give a smug smile. Definitely not a child. No, a grown woman. My eyes trace the firm curve of her hip: her bronze thigh and shapely leg peek out from beneath the covers. My eyes travel back up to her breasts as they push against the top of her nightgown. I know the weight of them as they fill my hands.

I'm suddenly hard and aching. My cock throbs with need. I quietly undress and crawl naked between the sheets. I reach out and pull Anna back against my bare chest. I have a moment's hesitation as I think of the dark circles under her eyes, she's seemed so exhausted lately. Then she stirs restlessly in my arms, pushing her firm bottom against my stiff erection.

My hands reach around to her front as I grope her breasts through the thin nightgown. I feel them pebble at my touch. One minute, she's asleep; the next, she's giving a low moan as she pushes back against me. Her need matches my own. I grab the hem of her nightgown and pull it up around her waist, baring her smooth, firm ass.

Keeping her back to me, I lift her thigh and slide between her legs. My cock is eager to probe into her warm core. I hold back, reaching down to see if she's ready for me. I slowly push in a finger, knuckle deep. She squirms restlessly, and I feel her wetness.

I silently slip into her slick folds from behind, pulling her toward me until I'm in, to the hilt. I pause for a moment - feeling like I've come home. I squeeze her breasts through the fabric as they fill my hands. Then they travel back to her hips as I anchor them and begin to slowly but steadily stroke into her.

I slowly increase the pace but maintain my steady strokes even as I grit my teeth to stay the course. I feel her flutter, the beginnings of a tremor, and then she unexpectedly shatters in my arms. I hold her until she's finished, and then it's my turn as I pump in and out a few more times, and just as unexpectedly, I climax, filling her.

I hold her as our breathing slows. I lean my head down and kiss the top of her head, her hair. This is probably the first time I've made love to her silently. Not a word was spoken. I can tell she's already fallen back to sleep. I stay connected to her while I hold her. I realize my word choice. Made love. Yes, this felt like more than just sex. It felt like making love… with Anna.

I fall asleep with my arms wrapped around her, holding her close against my heart.

It's morning when I open my eyes. My arms are empty, and I'm alone in the bed. I lay there for a moment or two listening. It takes a minute to realize it's the weekend. I don't need to jump up and get to the office. I grin and then stretch lazily. I hear the familiar theme song of the SpongeBob Square Pants and have to smile. There's a part of me that misses not being in the living room sharing this special moment with my son.

But there's another part of me that wants a long, hot shower. I hear the front door being opened and an exchange of voices. Then the door closes. I frown. I start to sit up when the bedroom door opens, and Anna walks in, a sly grin on her face. She's dressed in her nightgown from last night with a robe over it.

I lean back in the bed and prop my hands under my head. "Who was at the door?" My voice curious.

Anna gives me a slow, sexy smile. "Your mom. She picked up Connor to take him to the Museum of Science of History. She'll drop him off later this afternoon." She then takes off her robe and nightgown. My eyes admire her slender form and sweet curves.

My grin grows to mirror Anna's, "Later this afternoon?" She nods, "That's right."

I reach out and snag her hand, then I give a careful jerk, and she lands on my chest with a soft gasp. My arms instantly wrap around her, trapping her against my body. She doesn't try to escape. Instead, I feel her lips begin to trace my tribal tattoo softly.

"I was thinking we could take a long hot shower, but now, I'm thinking we can wait. Until after."

She looks up at me coyly, "After what?"

I roll until she's under me. Nudging her legs apart with my thigh, I settle in between them.

"This," I groan as I enter her in one powerful stroke.

Anna pours me another cup of coffee and she sips her morning tea. We've spent most of the morning in bed and in the large shower. Taking Anna when she's wet and soapy started the day off right. It's a routine I could get used to.

I rub my full stomach, "Breakfast was delicious. Thank you." She smiles at my sincere compliment. She always seems surprised when I thank her for cooking.

I lean back in my chair and say with a smirk, "Great food, great sex. A man could get used to waking up like this every day." I say it with a teasing smile, but I'm only half joking.

I see her smile falter, and I frown, "What's wrong, Anna?"

She turns toward me with a hesitant smile, "Carson. I wanted to talk to you about… our future."

Instantly, I feel my defenses rise, and my face hardens. I try to hide my knee-jerk reaction to her question as I feel her eyes study me. "Go on," I mutter softly, not knowing if I want to stop her or not.

She licks her lips and then says faintly, "I guess I wondered if you feel we have a future together. As a couple and as a family."

"We already are a family, Anna. Regardless of any label." I see a shadow cross her eyes, and it leaves me feeling on edge.

"So, um… our relationship. Do you want any more children?" She asks softly.

I suddenly sit up straight as my eyes narrow on her face. "Are you asking about marriage, Anna?"

"No, not really. I'm trying to find out how you feel about children and—"

"I don't," I say firmly. She gives a confused frown, "You don't… what? You wouldn't want another child."

I stand up and pace, "I don't want to get married. I don't want the institution of marriage. Not with you—" When she winces, I try to quantify it, "Anna, I just… I'm not ready to offer marriage yet. Not now… maybe not ever. I don't know. So, for now. No. I don't want to even think about having another child." Her eyes darken with emotion from the pain my words inflict.

Walking back to the table, I slide into my chair. "I'm sorry if that hurts you. I don't mean to—"

"No, I… I understand, Carson," she stammers, but I see the wounded deer look in her eyes.

I lean forward, "Anna. I have feelings for you. I just don't know about all the rest right now. Let's just enjoy what we have. Okay?"

She looks like I'm breaking her heart. Dammit, if I'm honest, that's how I feel right now, too, like someone is tearing my heart out by the roots. "Anna, I'm sorry. I'm just not ready…"

She nods, but I see the tears welling in her eyes, and then one spills over and runs down her cheek. I swear it feels like a red-hot poker to my chest. She jumps up and then runs out of the room.

I sit there feeling like a jerk, a fool. A lovesick fool. I pull away from the table and then drop my head in my hands. I love you, Anna. Why can't I forget the past and admit my feelings to her? Why can't I tell her that I love her? Because then she'd want me to marry her… and I'm not ready for that yet.

What started as a wonderful day spent making love now feels torn apart by her anguish.

I turn to follow Anna, but my footsteps slow and then halt. I need to give her some space.

Turning, I grab up keys; then I stop again. I should at least leave her a note. I walk over to the counter and get the pad of paper and a pen. I write. ‘Anna, I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm going out. I'll be back later.' I pause with the pen in my hand. I want to write Love, Carson. But I can't tell her like this. Instead, I sign it, ‘Carson.'

Then, with a heavy heart, I walk out the door. It shuts with an ominous click behind me.