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Golden Delicious

Novel By: PurpleSky

(FINISHED) Tom is perfect for Ebby. He's smart, handsome, funny, charming, everything she could possibly want in a man. But there's only one slight problem...he's her mum's boyfriend. View table of contents...

Submitted:Dec 14, 2013    Reads: 1,058    Comments: 8    Likes: 4   

"Well, I think your dad likes me."
I narrow my eyes at Tom as he focuses his on the road. I shake my head and cover my face with my hands. "What are we going to do? This family meal cannot happen."
"We could just tell Sharon to not mention me-"
"Even if she doesn't. It will still be awkward. Too awkward. Even more awkward than this was. No. It's not happening."
He furrows his brows with concern. "But what about your father? He misses Sharon. Maybe we could play cupid and it'll sort everything out?" He glances at me.
Same old Tom, always thinking about others. How about thinking about himself for once and run away from all this as quickly as he can?
But he can't. Because he loves me.
I shrug awkwardly and gaze out of the window. It's only seven and it's already almost pitch black.
"Sure, I'd like mum and dad to get back together but it didn't work out last time, there's no point tearing open an old wound." I pull a face at the image in my head. Never say that again.
Tom sighs. "You'll never know unless you try. And from what Sharon told me when we were together, it was pretty clear she still had feelings for your father. Part of me felt like she was trying to move on too fast. It put a strain on our relationship." And brought you to me. Thanks dad, you've done something right for a change.
"I don't know…" I chew my lip, hating myself for warming up to the idea. Then I shake my head. "But there is no way you can come. I'll say you're sick or something."
"No you're not." He looks at me in absolute horror. "They will know I'm avoiding them. It would be rude."
I roll my eyes. "Oh for God sake, Tom. Can you just stop being so polite for two seconds?"
He smiles innocently and looks back to the road. "I'll be fine, Ebby. We'll just have a word with Sharon beforehand so we're all on the same page."
I stare out the window, mulling it over. "I'll think about it."

Tom slips his key into the door and shoulders it open. As I go to step in the flat, Tom's arms smacks me across the chest. "Watch out! My pictures."
I jump back and notice the A3 size white envelop on the floor just where I was about to stand. I carefully make my way around it and Tom picks it up after shutting the door.
"Why isn't that in the box with the rest of our mail?" I ask.
Tom's busy eying up the envelop like a kid ready to unwrap a new toy. "It's too big. My agent must have been buzzed up by someone." He tears open the top and strides into the bedroom.
I follow him, slightly dazed. "Are they the pictures from the Milan campaigns? Haven't you seen them already?"
He's sat on the edge of the bed with the envelope beside him and his newest portfolio on the floor between his feet. He slides a page out of the envelope with great care. "Yeah. I just need to add them to my portfolio."
I kneel behind him on the bed and watch him work over his shoulder. I've never really understood the joy Tom got when he was able to add more pages to his portfolio. He is obviously very proud of his work so I guess it's like an artist that's adding a new painting to their gallery, right? It's a foreign concept to me because, well, my job isn't really anything to get excited about. Oh, yay! New napkin holders!... doesn't really work.
He bends down and slides the page into the plastic cover then leans back as if to inspect it from a distance before picking it up and lying it across his lap. The new page has two photos on it. One of his in a Burberry suit with his hands in his pockets and stood with a wide stance, the other is him and a woman sat on a step of what looks like a building on a side street. He's wearing the same suit but with a tweed coat over the top, matching the one that the blonde woman beside him is wearing. He's sat with his elbows on his knees, looking deep into the camera. She has her hand on his lap, also looking with a sultry quirkiness into the lens.
"She's pretty," I observe. She was stunning. She was the typical model, with big eyes, gaunt cheeks and a small mouth.
Tom's eyes cross over to the photo and he lets out a soft laugh with a nod. "Yeah, she is."
I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss his neck. "Is she prettier than me?"
He turns his head so his lips are at my ear and whispers. "Not in my eyes."
I giggle at the butterflies that swarm my stomach. I squeeze him tighter and pull away so I can look into his eyes which are bright and on me. "Right answer."
I watch quietly as he assorts the rest of the pages. He seems to be in his own little word so I leave him to it until one specific picture catches my eye. I jump up from my horizontal position across the bed, up to my knees behind him. My heart is pounding and I can feel that my cheeks have flushed. Just before he turns the page to inspect his earlier pictures, I slam my hand over his. "Wait."
He jumps a little. "What?" He peers at me.
"That picture-" I point to the one of him on a lounge chair. The photo is a close up of his top half. Light streams through a window and is hitting him in the face so he has lifted his hand to shield his eyes and the shadows that it has created paint him beautifully. They highlight his cheekbones and jawline in a way that I've never seen before. The khaki short sleeve t-shirt he's wearing stretches tight across his chest and his biceps look huge because of the angle of his arm. "Holy crap, Tom!"
He laughs awkwardly and turns so he can see me better. "What?"
I look from him back to the photo. He is clean shaven now but on the photo he has a slight five o'clock shadow. "Please tell me you have a copy of this picture." I stretch my arm over his shoulder and point to it.
He looks down and laughs. "Why?"
"Because it's going to be the first one in my new folder."
He arches his eyebrow at me and I grin down at him from over his shoulder. "You don't need a folder. You have me."
The butterflies in my stomach go crazy at the thought. "Yes. Yes, I do."
I grin and kiss his neck. He moans a little and the vibration shoots straight to my lower half, lighting it on fire. I lick up to his ear and trace the curve of it with the tip of my tongue, breathing heavily as my lust consumes me.
His eyes flutter closed and his jaw slackens. "Ebby, I'm supposed to be working. You're not helping."
I giggle and bite his earlobe. "I'm not trying to help."
He twists his head and I pull back so he can see me. He must notice the devilish glint in my eyes because his widen and his lips seal shut as if he's just said the wrong thing. I giggle and climb down off the bed and stand before him. When I grab the portfolio across his lap, his grip on it tightens instinctively before letting it go. I can sense him watching me as I place it on the dressing table.
I cross back over to him and kneel before him.
"Ebby, what-" his words catch in his throat when I place my hands onto his knees and stroke up his thighs. I grin up at him and pop open the button of his dress pants. He gasps and pants as I unzip him and start to tug down his pants and boxers. "Ebby, erh-" He starts to panic.
I lift myself up a little to touch my finger to his lips, silencing him. "Shh…"
"Let me."
His shoulders sag as the tension leaves his body and he gives in to me. I smile and drop back down so I'm sitting on my heels. He lifts himself off the bed enough for me to pull down his pants to just above his knees.
His cock jolts at the freedom but he's only semi-hard so I wrap my hand around him and carefully tease him. He starts to pant a little and scrunches his fists into the duvet.
It's not until he's fully erect and pointing to the ceiling when the nerves kick in. Tom is a shower and a grower. I want to…I do but…what if I gag? That's one way to kill the mood.
I glance up at Tom to see if he's noticed my apprehension. He hasn't. His eyes are hooded lazily and his head is tilted slightly upwards.
I could back out and just give him a hand job. I'm pretty sure he's be happy with that. He would never push me to do something I didn't want to. But I do. That's the thing. I do want to. After everything he's done for me? I owe him this.
Pushing my worries aside, I lower myself and take him in my mouth. When my lips clamp around his head, his hips jerk a little and he shifts further into my mouth. Not enough to make me gag, but enough to shit me up a little. I keep my hand wrapped around his base and I work my mouth and hand back and forth in unison, twisting my wrist a little.
Tom groans and hisses with please, flicking his hips every so often. In a matter of seconds, I seem to be getting the hang of it, making sure not to get ahead of myself and try to force him deeper. I swirl my tongue around him and speed up my rhythm. He starts to pant and his fists clench tighter into the duvet. My heart flutters when I taste his pre-cum in the back of my throat.
Tom starts to panic. "Ebby. Ebby. Ebby." He looks down, his eyes wide and frantic. He lifts one of his hands and it wavers in the air above my head as if he is battling with himself to not grab my hair. I watch him with a smile in my eyes as I keep up the speed until his ass bucks off the bed and he shoots down my throat. Finally. Finally, I am tasting him. He's warm and salty and divine.
I open my mouth and let his slowly shrinking member slip out. Wiping my mouth, I look up at him expectantly, awaiting a verdict. He's still panting a little, his eyebrows at his hairline. "Well," he expels a laugh and gulps to clear his throat. "That was unexpected."
"But good?"
He nods affirmatively. "Yes. Yep. Ver-very good."
I grin and get to my feet. I push him down onto the bed and jump over him. He manoeuvres himself on the mattress so his head is at the pillow and he tucks himself back into his boxers, leaving his pants at his knees.
"No, no, no." I shake my head and straddle his waist backwards so I'm facing his feet. "We're not done yet."
I start to pull down his pants the rest of the way when he grabs my waist from behind.
"Ebby, not tonight."
I furrow my brows at look at him over my shoulder. "Why not?"
He looks back at me helplessly, his eyes twinkling like two pools. "Let me rest. I'm an old man."
I laugh, turn back around and continue to undress him. "You're not an old man yet, Tom. You still have a few good years left before you get all saggy and you can't get it up."
The mattress shifts and his arms wrap around my stomach, making me squeal before he pulls me back and flips me over so I land on my side with him curled up behind me, spooning me. He presses his face into the curve of my neck and blows raspberries. I giggle and wrap my arms over his.
"Can we just cuddle?" he asks, resting his chin on my shoulder.
I turn my head a little so we're face to face. I give him a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. "We can just cuddle."


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