Blackbird (a Sometimes Never novella) by Cheryl McIntyre Page A

thighs, guiding me inside herself. She feels incredible. I growl into her shoulder. “The kitchen floor,” she says softly, “is christened.” As she moves quicker, I let my head fall back against the cupboard and grind my teeth. 
          Ever since she got on the pill and we stopped using condoms, my performance time has taken a hit. It’s even worse when she gets on top and rides me like this.
          Guess we aren’t going to need the whole hour after all.
          “Mason,” she sighs, “you feel so good.”
          Shit . I nearly release my load right there, but I slide her off me and lay her back. She trembles against the frigid floor, but I have full intention of warming her up. I lower my mouth to her stomach and trail kisses over the bone of her hip, down her thigh, working my way in between. I flick my tongue out and taste her. Her legs try to close and I hold them open as I continue to devour her.
          It doesn’t take long before her hips are coming off the floor, her fingers knotting in my hair, and she’s panting my name. She claws at my shoulders, pulling me up her body until I’m hovering over her. I grip her bare hips as I rock into her. Her legs circle my waist as she closes her eyes and moans.
          “Look at me, Hope.” She does, her blue eyes meeting mine. “I love you,” I tell her again. I dip my head to capture her mouth, kissing her deeply. And I know the best decision I ever made was staying in Ohio.

2 Hope
          
          
          I’m dragging ass today. Mason’s distraction techniques wore me out, plus I had too much on my mind to sleep last night. I have a lot going on this week.
          The first being the reason I’m trudging through this cold downpour toward the shitty brick building in front of me.
          It’s my first day of therapy.
          I find the right door and stare at it. Mason wanted to come with me. He begged, actually, but I wanted to do this alone.
          Now I’m realizing how stupid that idea had been. I pop a piece of gum into my mouth, wishing I had a bag of candy. I should have brought some Starbursts to chew on.
          My hand is shaking as I reach for the doorknob. I drop it quickly and head back the way I came. Pacing back and forth under the small awning, I pull out my cell and debate over who to call. The rain is hitting the aluminum hard and I can’t concentrate.
          If I call Mason, he’ll show up and I’ll feel… I don’t know, but I’ll feel like I’m doing this for him and not for me. I’ll end up pretending I’m okay and I’ll go in there just to make him happy. This will help us , but it has to be done for me .
          My finger hovers over Guy’s name. If I call him, he’ll be sweet. He’ll comfort me and give me some encouraging bullshit about how I can do anything I put my mind to.
          Damn it .
          It’s so cold. My teeth won’t stop clicking together as I shiver.
          I can’t do this. I can’t .
          My head falls back into the cool brick wall and I pinch my eyes together tightly. I will not cry .
          I blow out a frustrated breath and scroll through my contacts until I find the right name, hitting send before I can change my mind.
          “What the hell are you doing?” Chase asks immediately. No greeting—just cuts straight through the BS.
          “I can’t do it,” I mutter.
          “Shut up with the Debbie Downer crap. You can go to an appointment—you just don’t want to. There’s a difference. You’re already…five minutes late.”
          I watch a car pull into a parking space and a young guy gets out of the passenger side. I mean, really young. He can’t be more than thirteen or fourteen. He looks up as he approaches the door that I’m huddled in front of. Our eyes meet and he pauses. Something passes silently between us and he nods. Without a word, he reaches around me, forcing me to move, and opens the door.