She pushes me onto my back, and crawls up my body slowly, her teeth sinking into her lip as she pushes her hair behind her ears. She’s fucking beautiful, and I run my hands down her body slowly, letting out a frown as she slips the sheet over her head, disappearing from sight.
The fact that I can’t see her only excites me more, as her lips drop kisses on my stomach. I’m not entirely sure I’m going to last at this rate, especially when her breath fans my dick like that. Her tongue flickers against it, and I murmur her name, impatience overtaking my senses.
Another flicker, and fingers circling my shaft as she moves her mouth over the head, gently sucking as she starts to move her hand, driving me to insanity. This girl has barely touched me and I’m close to exploding in her sweet mouth.
“Fuck,” I hiss as she swoops down, taking me in her mouth fully, before sucking on it like she’s working on getting a basketball through a straw.
I feel fucking dazed.
What’s wrong with me? She’s just a woman. Who is carrying my child.
Jolie tightens her grip around my dick, and she’s in this perfect rhythm now that involves a throat invasion, a supremely dainty gag reflex and moans of desire as she sucks me like a professional.
I can’t even tell you what day it is. Fuck, I bet I don’t even know my own name—
The scream that pierces the air has me bolting upright, as the door bangs open to reveal Imogen, all puffy eyes and panicky breaths. I drag the sheet around me as Imogen runs into my arms, her body trembling as I try to soothe her.
“It’s alright, baby girl—”
“There’s something in my room!” Imogen gasps, wrapping her arms around my neck, burying her tear stained face into my shoulder.
If there is, I’m going to kill it.
“Can I sleep with you?” Imogen mumbles, and I curse the fucking timing of her annual nightmare.
“Let me just get out of your way,” I hear Jolie say softly, moving away from the bed.
“No, it’s alright, I can sleep next to you too,” Imogen says, scrambling onto the bed beside a barely dressed Jolie as she tugs on her pants on under the sheet.
“Immie, I’ll check your room, and then you can get back into bed, okay?” I say, smoothing down her hair as I pull my grey pants back on.
Nothing like your kid cockblocking you to deflate your solid wood.
Imogen is lying on my bed, watching me sleepily as Jolie tugs her clothes back on. To my surprise, she strokes the hair back on Imogen’s head, and starts talking to Immie in a low voice, almost melodic in its comfort. I’m rooted to the spot, as Imogen nods slowly, her breathing still ragged.
“Daddy will check your room, and you can tell me all about your favourite dream,” Jolie smiles, nodding at me to go.
I stumble backwards, hitting my leg on a chair that’s been there for years, causing Immie to break into spontaneous laughter.
“Oh yeah, real funny,” I scoff, rubbing my shin. “Laugh it up, girls.”
I shake my head as they giggle, and head down to Imogen’s room. I’m greeted with pink sparkly lights that hang around every wall, the dusky glow giving the room a Disney hue. Her covers are thrown back, and her favourite teddy is on the floor, deserted.
“She threw you to the monsters, huh Kitty?” I chuckle, lifting him from the floor in one swoop, my eyes sweeping around the room as I search for the fabricated monster.
Everything is exactly as it should be, and I’m reassured it was just a bad dream. Still, bad dreams are pretty scary as a kid. I’ve suffered with them too.
Feeling curious, I check the other rooms. All is silent, no sign of any intruder. I pad down the stairs, testing the locks on both doors, before heading out to the kitchen. The pool area is covered, but I flick the lights on regardless. Soft hints of light escape from the sides of the pool, and I cast my eyes around the outdoor area.
No one would be stupid enough to break in here, but all the same, I decide to put the downstairs alarm on. When Marianne arrived in the morning she would turn it off, but at least it gave me peace of mind for the rest of the night.
I grab a couple of bottles of water from the fridge, smiling to myself at the drawing Imogen had done for me a few weeks back. It’s a myriad of colours, but it’s easy to recognise Imogen, a girl with floor length yellow hair and a crown perched on her head. I’ve even made the cut, and I’m there with yellow hair and a toothy grin. We’re surrounded by love hearts and pink clouds. Rainbows litter the sky, and even the grass is at least ten different shades. Behind us in the distance is a castle, with a bright pink roof.
I head back upstairs, the cool of the metal beneath my feet as I do. Larah had loved this bloody staircase. Ever since she was a kid, it was all she wanted.
So I gave it to her.
I gave her everything.
I drop a bottle of water on Imogen’s bedside table, plumping her cushions up so I can just lay her down. I tuck Kitty in beside where she’ll lay, and head back to my bedroom.
I look up expecting to see Jolie dressed and ready to leave, when a sight that warms my heart greets me instead.
Wrapped in Jolie’s arms is my daughter, her head on her chest as she breathes deeply. I still, not wanting to disturb either of them.
I have a strange yearning to take a photograph, to capture this beautiful moment for what it is—special.
A lump forms in my throat when I imagine Jolie being here all the time, being a permanent fixture in our world. I push the thought away, knowing that we weren’t into any of that. We fancy the fuck out of each other, but that isn’t a basis for a relationship.
It’s too complicated.
But I can’t stop gazing at the two of them sleeping peacefully together. I step forward, my chest heaving with emotion at the sight of Imogen’s hands on the swell of Jolie’s stomach. I drop the water bottles onto the side table, and drag a blanket over the two angels sleeping beside me.
Well, three, if we count Baby Cohen.
I wrap my arm around Imogen and she sighs with content, allowing me to cuddle her. My fingers rest on Jolie’s bump, and I close my eyes, smiling stupidly to myself.
I love her here, and I love the fact Imogen adores her so much. My fingers dance across her stomach lightly, and I feel sleep sneak up on me, like a thief in the night. Just as I’m nodding I feel fingers on mine, lacing with them as I begin to fall into a deep sleep, my world in my arms. My thoughts cloud my mind, keeping sleep as bay.
This. This is what I want.
I swore no more relationships. Until Jolie approached me at that bar, I’d been doing alright. But now? It feels so good having her lips on mine. I know I’m protective of her because she’s pregnant with my baby, but there’s something else.
It’s the way she bites her lip. The way she smiles at Imogen, a real smile that reaches her eyes. The way she loves her family fiercely, despite them being the only family she has. I know she’s been through hell, but we all have, in one way or another.
Hell takes many forms.
For some it’s abuse, or a divorce. For some it’s loss, be it financial or emotional. Life is unfair, and the cards dealt can be fucking shady to say the least. I’ve often wondered which cunt is the dealer, because I’d happily deck him one.
But then I’ve been dealt Jolie.
My eyes flicker open, and despite the heavy weight of my eyelids, I drink her in like a cold beer on a sunny day. Her lips are slightly parted, her face worry free and relaxed. Her hair surrounds her in waves of sunshine, and I yearn to see the eyes that remind me of Christmas and happy times. She is rich with beauty and love, despite the shit she’s clearly dealt with growing up.
Then she met Rad.
A dark cloud threatens to block out her moonlight, so I push that thought away, focusing instead on what she looks like when she’s excited and happy.
What bothers me the most is that I want to see her like that every day, and I want to be the reason for it. My soul aches as it awakes from its slumber, and my eyes give up the fight, allowing sleep to claim me.