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Story: Make Your Change

I pump into her, fucking her harder and faster until we’re both calling out each others names. Her body shakes as shecomes, pussy quaking around me as I slam into her, milking my cock with her tight cunt. My cock pulses, filling her with my cum with jerky thrusts until I stop completely. We stay like that, my cock buried deep in her, as the final waves of ecstasy crash over us.

Slowly releasing her, I pull out, my hands trailing over her back and to her waist to pull her upright. I spin her around to face me. She’s breathless, her chest rising and falling with every shallow breath that escapes her.

I turn both of us around, pushing her back into the water. She tips her head back, her eyelids fluttering shut as it rains down upon her hair. Reaching past her, I grab the shampoo, pumping some into my hands before sliding it against her scalp. When I step back, she steps forward, her hair out of the water as I work it into a lather.

“You know, I can wash myself,” she murmurs but her words are followed by a groan of satisfaction as I lather up her hair, massaging her scalp, and then rinse it.

“I know you can, but I want to,” I breathe, pulling her back out of the water to put conditioner in her long locks. She stands silently, watching me as I finish her hair and move on to her body. She waits until I’m completely done and she’s rinsed off before reaching for my shampoo.

“Let me wash you,” she murmurs, her eyes slowly searching mine. Emotion catches in my throat and I nod. A groan rumbles in my chest as she pushes her fingers through my hair, working the soap into a lather along my scalp.

She washes my hair and my body and I let her, reveling in the way her hands feel rubbing every inch of my skin. Only when she’s done do I pull her back into the water with me again. My lips sweep across hers, stealing the air from her lungs as my tongue explores her mouth.

Andi breathes me in, her hands roaming across my body, the same time her heart infiltrates mine. She’s in my veins, running rampant like a drug and I’m a hopeless addict.

I know I can’t let her go, I can’t let her leave me. I don’t know how I’m going to convince her to stay, when she’s already planning on leaving this weekend.

I don’t know what I’m going to do, but there has to be a way.

There has to be a way to get her to stay.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CALEB

Afrustrated sigh leaves me as I rake my hand through my hair. I don’t know what I’m going to do with Gloria retiring. She’s an old friend of my mother’s and after Amelia passed, she stepped in with my mother to help out. My parents have been traveling the past year and since they’ve been gone, Gloria became my full-time nanny.

I don’t fault her for wanting to retire, but fuck. This leaves me in a fucking weird situation. Trust has always been an issue for me and especially once I was left to care for Tella by myself.

I will not put my daughter in any form of danger. And if danger should find her anyways, I’ll put whoever is behind it in a grave.

There’s a soft knock on the front door, drawing my attention away from the list of scratched out names I have. I decided to sit down this morning to try and plan better, but after writing down a list of competent women that I know and trust, I ended up scratching off every single name for one reason or another.

Mainly because I don’t want to burden them when I know they have their own families to be worrying about.

My footsteps are hurried as I stride toward the front door, confusion washing over me when I flick on the porch light andsee it’s my brother standing on the other side. “Cars?” I question him, pushing open the screen door.

He glances over at the two white rocking chairs on the front porch. “Can we talk?”

I swallow roughly over the emotion that immediately floods me. This is the same place Carson found me night after night when I moved here. After I lost Amelia. It was the place I went when I didn’t know what else to do—and my brother seems to have adopted the same connection to those two white wooden chairs.

The screen door creaks as I step onto the porch, letting it fall shut with a loud snap behind me. Carson walks over to the farthest chair, lowering himself as he folds his hands into his lap. The silence stretches between us and I just observe him for a moment, the way he stares out into the night, like it’s going to give him whatever it is that he’s looking for.

I sit down in the chair next to him, letting the hush hang between us. The smell of fresh cut grass fills the air as we inch closer to the summer months. It’s the same kind of night Amelia used to sit next to me on our old porch with her bare feet on the railing and glass of wine in her hand.

“What’s going on, Cars?” I finally ask, my voice gentle.

Carson doesn’t look at me. He picks at the cuticle around his thumb, his fingers twitchy and restless.

“Andi’s leaving tomorrow,” he mutters, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “She’s taking Matteo and they’re going back home.”

My stomach sinks. “Did she say why?”

“Her job at the historical foundation requires her to come into the office now. They’re getting rid of their remote positions.” He purses his lips, shaking his head. “I knew she planned on leaving eventually, I just thought maybe she’d change her mind. I can’t help but feel like she’s leaving me behind.”

“I doubt that’s what she’s thinking.”

He falls silent again and the crickets chirp along the fence line. The night is still and so quiet that it feels like something might break if either of us speak too loudly.