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“I have to see this,” he moaned, his voice so deep, it vibrated through my body.
I bent my knees, dropped them, and tipped my hips up to him.
His gaze fell on the view and for an instant, a wide smile consumed his entire face, then it faded just as quickly, and he became release focused. I could usually tell when a man had reached a point when nothing else mattered but that final release, and Boone had reached that point.
“Damn, woman, your pussy feels so tight and warm,” he whispered as his hands ran across my inner thighs, only adding to my already crazy state. I was busy trying to hold back. A technique I’d learned during a few yoni massages with a man who knew how to keep a woman at that peaked state and keep her there longer than she thought possible.
I felt grateful for having found him through a mutual friend. There were things to be grateful in our lives: our family, our health, the food on our table, and a fabulous yoni masseur.
“Fuck!” I yelled when Boone circled my swollen, tender clit with his thumb. “That’s too damn good!”
“Come for me, Liberty. Now, while I’m watching. Come now. Don’t hold back anymore. Let me watch. Let me see you.”
His words bore into me, finding my heart, the harder he pounded me, and as his thumb flicked and circled my clit, I lost all power over my orgasm. No matter what breathing technique I tried to use, I couldn’t hold back the total pleasure I felt any longer.
I let out several deep groans each time my body shattered from his continued pressure, from his intense thrusts, and his fingers dancing over my pussy like he owned it, like he owned me.
“Yes! Let it rip. More. Let it go. Let it all go,” he ordered, and I did everything he said. I yelled, shook, jerked, and released every apprehension I had into his care. “You’re magnificent. That’s it. Pure splendor.”
As I came down, he didn’t stop. Instead, he reached his own point of no return and released his hot seed so deep inside me, I swore he was covering my womb with it. He held onto my ass now, keeping me tight against him, as he unloaded every drop he could squeeze out. It thrilled me down to my very soul to be cherished like that, to be treated as if this was a special moment, and not just a quick fuck.
The difference was stunning. I’d gotten a taste of this with Kasey, but Boone had just brought it home tenfold.
For the first time since this whole nanny thing had begun, since I’d decided I only wanted to sign them to a contract and get the hell out of here, I knew leaving would be one of the hardest things I’d ever done, and fuck if I didn’t want to reconsider doing it.
Not now.
Not after this.
Not while we were both now totally spent and lying next to each other, staring into each other’s eyes, unable to speak, to think, to reach any sort of conclusion other than that was some of the best sex we’d ever had.
Liberty 11
For the next several days, every free moment I had, along with moments that were busy with the kids, I pulled out my violin and played country. Not just any country. I played Austin Sentry hits, trying my best to learn their catalogue. In private, I kept practicing the Charlie Daniels song, but for some reason, I couldn’t get it, and it drove me crazy.
In the meantime, I never did get around to answering Boone’s question on whether I would consider staying longer. Nor had I ever tried to get them to consider the talent agency I worked for. For the most part, I’d been ignoring Marcia’s text messages, and when I did answer, I told her I was on it. As for doing any other work for the agency… well… I simply didn’t have time and would off load anything that was sent me to other folks in the agency who sucked up the extra work like soda through a straw.
In truth, I was becoming more and more confused about my future than when I’d discovered my allergy to dog fur. It made wonder if my inability to learnDevil Went Down To Georgiawas my like my dog fur allergy. Had Boone been right? The allergy was all in my mind, and I used it to walk away from my family obligation. Now that I couldn’t master this riff, would I use it to walk away from my violin once and for all?
Talk about a fucked-up mind, I had it going on in spades.
Problem was, moving into this environment not only rekindled my love affair with my violin, but I was also falling hard for the guys, and never mind the kids. They already owned my heart. And the fact that they were willingly learning how to play their instruments amazed me. I was like that as a kid. Most of my siblings never took to playing music like I did. Yes, they all knew how to read and play instruments, piano mostly, but none of them obsessed over mastering an instrument like I had.
Ironically, so far, these little munchkins seemed to love the process. I had to force them to go out and play instead of concentrating on their new instruments. I had no problem teaching Annie and Emily, but Hank and his harmonica was out of my league. His dad had to handle those lessons, which were proving to be difficult for Boone. Hank was relentless.
It seemed when Hank put his mind to something, nothing else mattered. He wanted to learn how to do itnow,and no matter how Boone tried to tell him that it would take time to master the harmonica, Hank wanted no part of that kind of thinking… which brought us all to Hank’s desires for his birthday party. Loraine handed over that task on day two. I’d gladly taken it on when she told me his party was already planned, and all I had to do was make sure it all came together.
Easy-peasy, until Hank changed his mind about what he wanted, which caused me to force myself to have more interaction with the guys. Something I was purposely trying to avoid at all costs.
It seemed that every time I was alone with one of them, we’d end up having sex, and that wasn’t how I had planned for this to go. The sex was fucking up everything.
Ever since the mind-blowing sex I’d had with Boone, and the equally mind-blowing sex with Kasey, I’d been trying my best to walk a much straighter line, focusing all my time and energy on the kids and staying completely away from wine or anything even remotely mood altering.
I’d truly tried my best not to be alone with any of the guys, although that was getting more and more difficult considering I was coordinating Hank’s birthday party, and Austin was helping me. The dads had this funny thing about planning each other’s kids’ parties. From what I could understand, when they planned the party for their own kid, they would go so overboard, they’d hire sky writers and full-on mega-hit bands, none of which the kids appreciated.
After the last fiasco where Annie didn’t want to come out of her room because she was afraid of the life-sized Barbie doll Kasey had commissioned special for her, they delegated the parties to each of the other dads, and lo and behold, the parties were more geared to what the birthday girl or in this case, the birthday boy, wanted.
This year, according to Austin, all Hank wanted was harmonica players. He didn’t want flying dragons or magicians or sky writers; he just wanted to hand out harmonicas to his friends and have a bunch of grownups come in to teach them how to play. Of course, he was included in that equation.
