“No, dear, it’s nothing like that,” she says as she walks to the table with two cups of tea. “Here, it’s getting cold out there. Warm tea always makes things better.”
“Mom, is this about tomorrow?”
“Kind of.”
“Are you unable to go with him?” I hear the panic in my own tone. To hell with my job. If my mom can’t go, I will. Let the chips fall where they may.
“Of course I can go to Jase’s school. I just wanted to show you a note from Mrs. Williams. It was addressed to you. I’m sorry I opened it, but after your call and what you said about your meeting with the principal, I thought...well, the truth is I was curious.”
I slowly reach for the envelope. That’s another bad sign. A note that says Hey, your child is doing great doesn’t come in an envelope. I remove the page of paper and begin to read.
Mrs. Harrison,
I look up. “I’ve told that woman a hundred times my name is Wells.”
“Some people have difficulty with that.”
“Obviously,” I say before I go back to reading.
Mrs. Harrison,
Today was a particularly trying day with Jason. Though he obviously knows the material, he refused to participate in class, saying he was tired. I sent him to the nurse’s office, but after a few minutes he returned. During rest time, he was no longer tired, but rambunctious.
In my experience, I have seen this situation helped with a doctor’s intervention.
I will be sending a recommendation in the next day. Please consider this option for the future success of Jason’s educational experience.
Mrs. Williams
“What?” I ask. “She thinks he needs a doctor. Why?”
“I can only assume to settle him down.”
“No.”
My mom reaches out, and her hand covers mine. “Honey, I don’t think it’s out of the question. It’s very helpful for some children. However, I think she didn’t know yet about the class change. In my opinion, this class change may be the best thing for Jase. You can keep the possibility of seeing a doctor in mind if the change in classrooms doesn’t work, but didn’t you say this other teacher has a different strategy?”
I lean my forehead down to the table. My voice is muffled. “Mom, this is so hard.”
She touches my hair. “No one said parenting was easy.”
I look back up. “But it’s not supposed to be done alone...”
“You’re not alone. I’m here. Your dad is here. And what about Malcolm, that man you’ve been seeing?”
As opposed to another Malcolm?
I don’t even answer. She knows how I feel about that. Instead, I focus on the new classroom. “Mrs. Landecker said the new classroom is organized- or managed-chaos, but it works. Did I tell you the teacher is a man?”
Mom leans back against the kitchen chair and smiles. It’s closed lip, like she does when she’s contemplating. “That might be just what the doctor ordered.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think that’s what Mrs. Williams had in mind.”
Mom looks toward the door that leads to the garage, making sure we’re alone. “That woman’s an old biddy with antiquated notions. She needs to retire. I like what Mrs. Landecker has in mind. It certainly can’t hurt to try.”
I finally reach for my tea. “I hope so.”
“Will you and Jase stay for dinner? I made plenty.”
“Does he have any homework?” It’s silly to me that kindergarteners have homework, but he does.
“It’s all done. That’s how I found the note.”
“I have food at home to cook.”
“And I have food here that’s already cooked,” she says with a bigger grin.
“Thanks, Mom.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Malcolm
I can’t take my eyes off of Mandy. She’s gorgeous and so fucking fuckable. The way the brown waves of her silky hair spill over my pillow and her bruised lips lift to a sexy-as-hell smile makes me perpetually hard. Having her ride my dick in the front seat of her car was exhilarating, but that’s not the kind of woman she is.
Mandy Wells is a thousand-count Egyptian sheets, brass bed, and soft piped-in music kind of woman. She’s the best life has to offer...She’s champagne and caviar.
Maybe champagne and pizza. Okay, wine and pizza. Fine, wine and great pizza.
That's okay. I prefer her that way.
Since we’ve been seeing each other, each time together is something new. Mandy is spontaneous, sexy, and responsive as hell. She's also responsible and caring. She’s all of those things wrapped into one beautiful package. Whether she’s thinking about her responsibilities or enjoying an outing on the Gulf of Mexico, she’s everything I never knew I wanted.
As her eyes close and her smile rests, I crawl over her luscious body, covering it with mine. Even with the outside temperature dropping, she doesn’t need blankets—I’ll be her blanket. My cock twitches as it grows and rubs against her thighs.
Her gorgeous blue eyes open. “Malcolm, umm, didn’t we just do that?”
“Didn’t I just fuck you until you screamed every cuss word I’ve ever heard?”
Her cheeks rise. “I bet you’ve heard others.”
“Nope. And I spent six years in a locker room. That is very impressive, Ms. Wells.”
“I think you’re exaggerating…”
Her words trail away as the tip of my hard cock teases her folds and her legs slowly part. She is right. We did just do this, but damn, with her beside me, I’m hard again.
I know there’s been things happening with her son, things that have been worrying her, but as of yet, she hasn’t trusted me with that side of her life. I understand. I’ll take what I can get. Right now, Mandy's in my bed and I want to be inside her, buried in her wet, warm heaven. I want to make her forget whatever else in this world is bothering her.
“Happy anniversary,” I whisper as I sink deep inside her.
She stutters as her back arches and her lips form that adorable ‘O.’ “W-what anniversary?”
“We met three months ago, today.”
I bask in her smile as she wiggles and moves with my rhythm.
During those three months, we’ve stolen moments to be together whenever we could. Only that one time did I have her for an entire weekend. I’ve been wracking my brain for ideas on how to do it again.
I long for nights like this when she can be in my bed, when we have more than an hour here or two there. I’m addicted to her presence, not only in my bed, but in my life. I long to have her on the sidelines when my team plays soccer, beside me at school functions...beside me in life. I fantasize about flying her to Florida again, but this time to meet my parents and catch another Lightning game.
I’ve never known a woman like Mandy—Amanda—before. I’ve never wanted to spend my time with the same woman, yet I miss her every second we’re apart. She’s my drug and I’m addicted, enthralled by her zeal for life.
Her fingernails bite into the skin of my back as I pump harder. The way her pussy hugs my dick is also addicting. I tell myself we’ll only go out to dinner, to the movies, or for drinks. Mandy agrees, and then…