tagNovels and NovellasTaking the Risk Ch. 18

Taking the Risk Ch. 18

byshandal©

As her self respect grows, so does her strength as a woman. Learning to take risks allows you to feel, change, grow, love and live.

Only a person who risks is free.

My thanks to Leo F Buscaglia for the inspiration for this story from his affirmation 'Risks'

I love getting your feedback and suggestions, and for those who have been so kind to give them, I write for you.


*

Froo was almost dancing with delight in front of him, her tangible excitement at her small victory making him glow with pride.

"I told him, we drop Jace at eight, and when he started to shout at me I told him it's that or nothing and put the phone down." Smiling at the memory of the call, "You should have heard him when he rang back straight away. Called me a cow, and a bitch, and then I told him if he didn't stop shouting at me I would put the phone down and wouldn't pick it up again to talk with him." Laughing she told Misha, "He told me I was a stupid cow, and he would come over and get Jace at seven. I told him I wouldn't be here. A bit of a lie. But he said where would I be, and I told him with you, and that we would be over at eight with Jace, and that was it or he wouldn't see Jace tonight, and he just slammed down the phone."

Misha stroked back her hair behind one ear, "That's my girl, offence is the best defence."

"It was so great. I was shaking. But I did it. I stood up to him, and he backed down, and even him calling me a cow and a bitch didn't upset me."

"Yeah well I don't like him calling you filthy names babe, that is something we are going to have to make him understand, bad mouthing you is no longer allowed."

"Misha, I did it, I told him what I was going to do, and he had to accept it." Wrapping her arms around his body she hugged him, saying, "Thank you."

Misha held her close, kissing the top of her head, "No thanks needed, you did it yourself, you made the call."

"But you gave me the strength. I wouldn't have done it if not for you."

That is how Jace found them, wrapped around each other hugging, both enjoying the small victory, the woman pleased with herself for standing up for the first time to her ex, and the man happy for her that she had taken a big step forward in getting back her confidence and self respect.

"Mummy, can we go now to Daddy's, I want to show him my new drawing."

"Yes sweetie, go get your coat, we're going now."

*

Gary was pacing back and forward, his agitation growing by the second, each time he looked at the watch on his wrist his temper grew. It was ten to eight, and the little cow wasn't here yet with his son. When she arrived, he was going to teach the cow a lesson.

Diane sat quietly on the chair, the bruise on her arm where he had grabbed and shook her hard starting to form, her eyes wide, watching the angry man pace back and forth, trying hard not to be noticed.

Suddenly the ringing of the door bell broke his angry musings, and striding to it he pulled it open, a snarl on his face, ready to give her a piece of his mind, only to find the boyfriend standing there, his son standing holding on to his hand, the mans eyes boring into his.

"Where's Francesca? Where's my wife?"

"She's in the car, you're dealing with me, and she's not your wife."

"The cow too scared to meet me face to face?"

Kneeling down Misha told Jace to go inside and take his coat off, and then straightening up, his face taking on a hard vicious look, and stepping forward to invade the other mans space, snarled, "You so much as hurt her, call her names or doing anything that upsets her from now on and I'll fucking rip your balls off and ram them down your fucking throat. Do I make myself clear? I protect what's mine, and you don't want to find out just how fucking mad I can get. We'll be here at eight thirty tomorrow morning, have the kid ready, and don't try anything, because the consequences will be a lot worse for you, believe me."

Stepping back, Misha gave one last withering look before turning round and walking calmly back to the car and Froo.

*

Sitting in the small Italian restaurant that they had stopped off at on the way to Guildford, Froo watched as Misha ate his pasta, drops of the Marinara sauce on his lip, wishing she could lean across the table and erotically lick it off. She was still on a real high, her body singing with adrenalin, and pleasure, and sitting in front of her was the most gorgeous man she had ever met, and he was hers. Looking around at the other couples in the small restaurant, she couldn't see any other man as handsome as Misha, and preening with pride, she turned back to look at him, a smile on her face.

"What's that smile for babe? You look like the cat that got the cream."

"I am that cat. I got you."

Misha sat back in his chair, a flush of pleasure running through him. That was the closest to an admittance of how she felt that she had given him.

"You're the best looking man in here, and you're with me."

Suddenly the pleasure drained out of him, "Froo." Sighing to himself, he just shook his head, sadly acknowledging that maybe for her it was all so different, the feelings he had, and maybe she just didn't feel them for him.

"You've got some sauce on your lips."

Licking his lips, he watched her as she followed his tongue wiping off any recalcitrant sauce, and saw the passion in her eyes.

"I think I've created a monster, by the look in your eyes, when we get back to my place it looks like I'm going to be dessert this time."

Laughing she told him, "You had better eat up everything to build up some strength then." and topped up his glass of wine, a twinkle in her eye that reignited his good mood.

*

Sitting in the middle of the bed, his legs spread and slightly bent, his arms resting out behind him, his head leaning back, eyes closed, Misha felt Froo's teeth graze against his nipple. Little shivers ran down his spine, as she raked her nails over the other one at the same time, making his chest swell, his back arch and his breathe catch.

For the last twenty five minutes, she had been slowly driving him insane, exploring his body with her mouth, her hands and her eyes.

Kissing his back, her small tongue had licked a line down his spine, stopping off to gently kiss his scars there, the tips of her fingers lightly stroking his skin. Her teeth had then nibbled on his shoulder, before she had kissed him behind his ear and his neck, moving down and biting at the sensitive skin under his armpit, down his ribs and then trailing a row of kisses down and across to his belly, and finally to his thighs.

When she had started on his leg, the ugly scar running from mid thigh down to his ankle, where the metal bolts that had held his leg in traction had left dark indented scars, she had trailed a line of gentle kisses, telling him that if she had known him back then, she would have kissed him better to take away the pain, so she was doing so now.

Misha had just sat there, unable to speak, raw emotion filling him up. His love for her growing deeper and more pronounced as he watched her head move down his leg, slowly, as she kissed along the scar, her silky hair stroking his skin as she moved, her body bending over, her lovely bottom poking up in the air, facing away from him.

Now she was caressing his chest, his pectoral muscles jumping with each little bite and touch, his stomach muscles pulling tight, as his manhood stood erect, begging for attention, between his thighs. The woman was going to drive him mad soon, but still he sat, waiting breathlessly for her to touch him there, as he followed her journey around his body, his full attention on the sensations she was causing him. Froo felt like it was Christmas and she had been given a toy to play with. A beautiful, perfect toy. His torso was long and slim, with well defined muscles, shoulders wide, his collar bones defined with dips that called to her to kiss and lick. His neck was strong, his Adams apple sitting part way down, below sat another small hollow, glistening with perspiration, his golden skin warm and inviting as she nibbled and kissed and licked her way down to the tiny buds that sat on each side of his chest.

She could hear him moan and sigh, and each time he did it was like music to her ears, deep and sweet and magical.

She felt her power as a woman increase, her confidence build with every noise of pleasure he made, as she worshipped him, her lover, her protector, her friend.

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