“Ah, what’s the point of a homemade cake unless shared amongst friends and family?” I alert them as I grab the knife and begin slicing giant pieces out and plating them before I pass them around. I find enjoyment watching Sledge’s expression fall flat as I hand him his plate.
As I begin to hand Harmony’s to her, she extends her hand, rejecting my offer. “None for me tonight. Auntie Bella says all these sweets aren’t good for my growing teeth, especially late at night, and especially in girls. We’re going to brush our teeth and floss before bed.” My little girl smiles up at me while extending to the tips of her toes and I lean down and give her a kiss. “Love you, Daddy and Uncle Sledge. Eat all the cookie cake if you want and don’t worry about saving me any. I’m gonna make another tomorrow.”
Plunging the fork Sledge has handed me into the slice of cake, or whatever this is that my girl has concocted, I say to her, “Is that so?” I glare at Bella. “Make sure you prepare enough for Auntie Bella to share with you. It’s only worse for girls at night. Y’all should be just fine during the day tomorrow.” I shoot Bella a wink as she thins her lips. Once they’ve disappeared from sight, I tell Sledge, “Quick, get a bag. We’ll toss these into the dumpster outside and I’ll dispose of the rest tomorrow; probably tell her I brought it to the clubhouse where it was devoured.”
“Good thinking,” Sledge chides, agreeing with my line of thought.
Bella
When I get Harmony ready for bed and Rogue has said his goodnights, we sit down for what’s become our sharing of a night cap. Tonight, Rogue seems to be eager to see the end of the bottle. I don’t ask him about club business, I know all too well how that turns out when I do. After the first night we did this and I questioned him about things, he blew up on me. Rogue has a way of putting you in your place without saying a word. Hence, the club and its happenings are off limits. Instead, we reminisce about the past, we talk about Harmony and how each day she comes back to us a little at a time. However, I’ve noticed that tonight he’s not as standoffish as he has been. He’s slurring his words slightly, but his hand has landed on my knee several times, causing my heart to flutter deeply in my chest.
I’m aware he’s always been an innocent flirt, but this time, it feels different. He’s never purposely laid his hands upon me unless it’s in a comforting manner in the form of a hug after we’ve shared stories of Aurora. As my chest constricts and my throat tightens, I find the courage to place my hand on top of his. With my other hand, I lift the rim of my glass up to my lips and swallow its contents in one gulp. When I notice my hand shaking, I reach over and place it on the coffee table, just a few inches away from where we sit.
“Bella,” he calls my name out in a whisper that has bumps traveling up and down my spine. For years I’ve longed to hear my name escape him in that raspy tone, yet tonight, I find it causes butterflies to spread their wings in flight in my belly. Nausea rolls as anxiety takes root in my soul. Do I let this continue? Am I betraying my closest friend if I find comfort in her man? Should I let him use my body to ease some of his grief? “Bella,” he once again says my name, only this time, his hand cups my cheek as he turns my head toward him.
“Y-yeah?” I stutter out.
“Tonight, we don’t think, we just feel,” he quietly and sincerely concludes. Before I have the chance to rebut, I gasp as his lips crash down on my own. He takes advantage of my being stunned and swipes his tongue across my bottom lip before inserting it inside of mine. All thoughts flee from my mind as I enjoy his controlling ownership. I gladly submit as a dream I’ve had most of my adult life comes to fruition. Tingles strum through my being as his hand finds the bare skin of my midriff, then slowly glides upward, landing over my sensitive and aroused breasts. He tweaks my extended nipple’s peak through the lacy material. My chest arcs, I’m begging him silently for more. He breaks our kiss as he huskily asks, “Do you want this, Bella? Dear God, please tell me you need this as much as I do.” I can feel how desperately he needs human contact, only the way a woman can. I recognize I’m being used as a rebound, a steppingstone toward him being able to live and feel again. Whereas I wish I could be more than that to him, the desperation of feeling his skin touch mine wins over.
“I do. I want this, Rogue,” I answer his question, nearing breathlessness with anticipation.
“I need this, Bella. I need this connection. Just,” he sighs while running his free hand through his hair, “I don’t want you to think this will become more than what it is.”
This time, I’m the one who lifts my hand and places it gently on his face. I edge him closer to me before issuing, “I know what this is, Rogue. I expect nothing more than what you’re offering me.” When the last word leaves me, he lifts me up into his arms and walks us down the hallway. I expect us to be heading to his bedroom, but am not surprised when he opens the door leading to the room I’ve been using.
“That room is Rora’s, I just can’t. Don’t think I ever will be able to share that bed with another woman,” he explains as he shuts the door with the heel of his boot.
“I would expect nothing less,” I agree, not at all disappointed. I don’t want to be intimate with him in the room they once shared. His memories with her are rooted in there, as they should be. I’m already feeling an edge of guilt, but my body is winning the war against my mind.
Chapter Nine
Rogue
I shut out the feelings encompassing me. I should be ashamed of what I’m about to do, but the need to feel this connection with another overrides my good sense. I lay Bella on her bed and stretch out over her. I nip and suck on her bottom lip before sliding down her body, disrobing her as I go. Bella’s body is sinful, with each part of her that I uncover, my mouth salivates. Her breasts are larger than my hands and her nipples are dark, begging to be played with. I give my fingers free reign to examine and explore those dusky tips. She mewls like a cat in heat, urging me to find what other places will cause her to purr in that manner. When I get her jeans unsnapped and off her body, I’m happy to find that she’s as pink and swollen as I was hoping she’d be.
“Look at this beautiful pussy, Bella. Is all that slickened neediness for me?” The domineering part of myself comes out. I’m not only in charge in my daily life, but in the bedroom, I become the master, the need to dominate is crucial. I want utter and complete submission when a woman is sprawled out beneath me.
“For you, all for you,” she gasps out as my finger trails down her abdomen.
That’s all I needed to hear. Diving in, I devour her like a man starved. I pay close attention to her extended clit, sucking it flat in my mouth. My tongue explores every inch of her pinkness. Her lips, her clit, her opening, there isn’t a place that my mouth doesn’t make contact with. Once she screams and I sip all of her essence, I slowly pull away, wiping my mouth on the inside of her thighs. “Fuck,” she hisses as I stand next to the bed and begin to shed my own clothes. When her eyes land on my stiff erection, her eyes dilate as she licks her lips. Fuck yes. I walk closer to her head and pull her closer to my cock. A drip of precum is sitting on the slit of my cockhead, waiting for her to drink it up.