Michelle McCraw Reader Extras
Two Weeks to Forever banner, showing a pit bull dressed in a Santa hat and scarf

Two Weeks to Forever

Chapter 3

Missed a chapter? Chapter 1 | Chapter 2


After one last check that Val was asleep in her bed, I locked our bedroom door, muffling the sounds of Bruno’s barking. He really hated being in that crate. I couldn’t blame him. As a longtime shelter resident, he was probably sick of being caged. But, left unsupervised, he was as destructive as the monsters in that old Rampage arcade game.

Alicia bent over her suitcase, open on the bed, and pulled out a neat stack of clothes that she tossed into the laundry bin. The lamplight gilded the loose tendrils of her hair that had escaped from her bun during a long day of travel.

“What time did you have to get up this morning?” I asked, pulling her sneakers from her suitcase.

“Boston time or San Francisco time?” she asked.

I winced. “Ugh. Want a massage?”

Her shoulders drooped. “That sounds amazing. Just my shoulders would be wonderful, then I’ll jump in the shower.”

“On it.” I put her sneakers on the shoe rack in our walk-in closet and grabbed the almond massage oil on my way out of the bathroom. She was still rooting through her bag.

“Unpack later,” I said, lifting the suitcase onto the dresser. “Take off your shirt and sit on the bed.”

“Just my shirt?” She glanced up at me through her lashes.

Everything below my navel tightened. “I could rub your shoulders, too, if you take off your bra. But after five days separated from you, I can’t promise I won’t get distracted.”

“I’m not in a hurry,” she said. “I missed you, too.”

Spots obscured the edges of my vision as the blood rushed to my other head. “Let me help.” I reached for her buttons.

“Sit. Watch,” she said.

I obeyed.

She started at the open collar of her blouse, loosening the top one and letting it splay open across the top curve of her breasts. They’d changed since she had Val. A little softer. Heavier. And I loved them. I licked my lips.

The next button gave me a peek at the pink lace of her bra. I swallowed.

She went faster, then, as the next button revealed the soft curve of her belly. That had changed, too, and she was self-conscious of the silvery stretch marks. But I loved those, too. They reminded me of how amazing her body was, how it could give us both pleasure and also create an entire human.

She released the final button and dropped the blouse to the floor. Then she sat on the bed, her back to me. “Now you can help.”

Gently, I released her bra hooks and nudged the straps off her shoulders. I poured a dab of massage oil into my palm and rubbed my hands together, releasing the sweet almond scent. Using both hands, I stroked from her neck to her shoulders and back up before going to work on her upper trapezius. She lowered her head and sighed.

“Good?” I asked.


“You think you’ll get the gig in Boston?”

“Yeah.” She tilted her head from side to side. “I should be able to do it remotely, for the most part. I’ll go there for a kickoff, but after that we’ll meet by video. I’ll go back a couple more times for major milestones.”

“Good.” I kissed her neck, inhaling the almond scent. “Wouldn’t want any other coworkers to fall for you.”

She chuckled. “Only you would fall for a woman who tried to boss around the company’s founder.”

“Your bossing is very—” I kissed behind her ear. “Very—” I kissed the shell of her ear. “Sexy.” I nipped her earlobe.

Shuddering, she leaned back against my chest. “So are your massage skills.”

“Oh, really?” I purred, sliding my hands from her shoulders down the front of her chest. I cupped her breasts, flicking my thumbs over her nipples. She squirmed, pressing her chest into my palms.

I pinched her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers, using gentle but firm pressure the way she liked it now. Val’s little gums had been hard on them while she’d breastfed. I was grateful to get a bigger share of Alicia’s body back after the baby was weaned. My fingers, slippery with oil, slid across her delicate skin until her nipples formed hard nubs. When I circled my thumbs across them, she groaned.

“Shower…then…bed?” The words pushed out of her like it was an effort to string them together.

“Is that an invitation?” I whispered, flicking her earlobe with my tongue.

“Yes. Yes.” She shifted her hips on the bed.

If I didn’t have massage oil coating my fingers, I’d have pulled down her zipper and tucked my hand inside her panties, where I knew she’d be wet for me. But oil is hell to get out of wool, so I refrained.

“Then yes. I’ll start the shower.” I kissed her neck again, a long, lingering one that promised more. Then I walked into the bathroom, washed the oil off my hands, and turned on the water. I stripped off my clothes, leaving them in a heap near the laundry basket.

Alicia took her time, dropping her work slacks into the dry cleaning bag, then shimmying off her lacy pink panties and dropping them into the basket. She left her hair in its bun. Later, after our shower, I’d take it down and comb the silky strands between my fingers, making her shiver as the tension released in her scalp.

For now, I let her precede me into the shower, where I soaped up my hands and ran them in long strokes over her skin, washing the massage oil from her neck, her shoulders, her breasts. The hot water beat into her skin as I continued down her back, the curve of her ass, her legs, and her feet. She wiggled her toes, which were surely pinched from wearing heels since before I’d been awake.

I pointed the body jets toward the built-in seat to warm the tile. That seat? Best idea ever.

“Sit down,” I said.

“I thought I was the boss today.” She shot me a lazy smile.

“Well, ma’am,” I drawled in my best imitation of a Texas accent, “I think you’re going to want to sit for what I’m about to do.”

Her gaze drifted down to my erection, ruddy from the heat of the shower. She licked her lips. “All right, then.” She settled onto the seat.

I dropped to my knees and pushed hers apart. Her center was pink, her lips unfurling for me in welcome. I dipped my head to taste her.

“Mmm.” Her head thudded against the tile. “Not too much, though. I want to come with you inside me.”

“Don’t worry, you will,” I murmured against her labia. “The second time. Or maybe the third.”

“Third? I don’t think I have three in me tonight.”

“That sounds like a challenge.” And that was the last thing I said before I swept my tongue across her, tasting her sweetness, while I found her clit with my tongue.

The hot water pounded my back as I refamiliarized myself with her body, exploring her depths as I tapped her clit. After the relaxing massage, it didn’t take long for her thighs to start trembling in a way that meant she was close.

I worked my thumb faster and dipped my tongue inside her. A second later, she clenched her legs around my head and let out a strangled cry. I eased up the pressure and switched to lazy licks. Her hips bucked with aftershocks, and I smiled against her center.

“That’s one.”

“No more,” she moaned.

“You sure?” I asked. I touched my tongue to her swollen clit. It pulsed against my tongue.

“Oh, god.”

“Maybe just one more, then?” I closed my lips around the needy nub.

Her legs fell open. “Please.”

I grasped her hips to steady her, and with the water pummeling my back, I sucked on her clit the way that made her wild. She’d hardly come down from her last climax, and it took only a few long pulls, my face buried in her pussy and my fingers digging into her glutes, before she shouted, a hoarse cry that echoed off the tile.

“Shh, baby,” I said between soft licks over her clit.

“No more, you wicked man.” She pushed against my forehead, and I backed up.

My knees complained as I stood. “I’m wicked in the best way, and you know it.”

“God, do I.” She leaned her head back and watched as I quickly washed my face, then the rest of me. I winced as I brushed against my over-sensitized cock.

“Mind if I…?” I gestured at it, then at the drain.

“Here? No. As much as I like to watch you, you promised I’d get it in bed.”

I smirked. “You said no more.”

“No more for me. One for you.”

But that wasn’t how we rolled, and she knew it. I would never come without her, not even when we’d had to take it so gently with her postpartum body that I’d been in danger of coming solely from the friction of the sheets.

I shut off the water and patted her dry with a towel before I scrubbed it across my body, not caring whether I was wet or dry. After that much foreplay, I needed to sink into my wife as quickly as I could.

She led the way to the bed and flopped back in the center. She grinned. “Have your wicked way with me.”

My knees weren’t what they used to be. “Come to the edge?” I asked. “I need to stand for a bit.”

She nodded and—fuck me!—crawled on her hands and knees to the edge of the bed. She flashed me a tempting smile. “I could suck you off.”

“Another time, when you aren’t so tired. Lie back.”

She scooted to the edge, then reclined on her elbows. “Like this?”

When she opened her legs, she was shiny and slick. “Just like that.”

But if I sank into her then, I’d be done in three seconds flat. Gritting my teeth, I squeezed the base of my dick and, with the tip, teased her entrance where she was swollen and sensitive.

She hummed in pleasure, and I pressed closer, lifting her thigh and squeezing my dick between the back of it and my body. I set my thumb on her clit again, and her hum turned into a sexy groan.

The fragrance of her arousal rocketed me to the edge as I thrust against the soft skin of her thigh. Precum wept from the tip and helped me glide against her. I wasn’t inside her yet, and already I was losing control. I would never tire of fucking this woman, of loving her. Simply watching the line deepen between her blond eyebrows as she crept toward her own orgasm made me want to spill over her belly.

No. Not yet. I dipped my thumb to wet it with her arousal, then returned it to her clit, using the lubrication to vibrate faster. Her thigh trembled in the telltale sign she was close.

Grasping her knee to spread her open, I thrust inside her, sinking home with one long glide. I paused there to let both of us adjust, feeling her flutter around me. I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. God help me, this woman.

Her breath caught, and my control shattered. Keeping my thumb on her, I backed up and thrust in again. Once. Twice. So close my vision tunneled.

She cried out, then clamped her mouth shut, moaning as she squeezed me.

I erupted with a groan, wishing I could roar out my pleasure, but we had kids—and a damn dog, whose barking intensified like he’d heard us.

Of course he had. He had dog hearing.

But fuck it, I couldn’t care. I was sunk to the hilt inside my gorgeous wife, and we both still shuddered in pleasure. I bent over her and kissed her lips. “Welcome back,” I whispered.

She hummed. My always-in control- wife going nonverbal? Always a good sign.

Once I’d cleaned us up and we were snuggled in bed, I kissed her shoulder and listened. At last, Bruno was quiet. And somehow, he hadn’t woken Val. The baby monitor was silent, and her image on the video was still except for the rise and fall of her breath.

“Sweetheart?” I asked, half-hoping Alicia was asleep, not wanting to ask what I needed to.

“Mm-hmm?” She turned in my arms to face me

I sucked in a fortifying breath. “About the dog…”

“No. No, Jackson.” She rose on her elbow. “It’s bad enough that you brought him home without discussing it with me. He isn’t staying.”

Damn. I’d hoped she’d be relaxed and pliant after our sex marathon. “But—”

“No. I know you think this dog is going to somehow turn Noah from a surly teenager into the sweet boy he used to be. But it won’t. You can’t buy our son’s love with a dog.”

I buried my face in her shoulder. “Am I that transparent?”

“Like a window.” She stroked my hair. “Remember, he already loves you.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” I grumbled. Then I lifted my head. “You don’t mean he has to go back tomorrow, do you?”

She caressed my cheek. “I do.”

“But it’s the holidays.”

“Call me a grinch, but the holidays are exactly the wrong time to bring home a pet. Life is already chaotic, and adding a dog to it, especially an untrained one, is asking for trouble.”

Well, shit. How was I going to explain that to Noah? Without him hating me even more than he already did?

© Michelle McCraw, 2023

If you haven’t yet picked up the story of how Alicia and Jackson got together, it’s Work with Me, and you can grab it here.