His Wild Blue Air

Day 16

Tuesday

"Mommy, read me the Ugly Duckling."

"Honey, I read that last night," she said, but was already crouching down at his bookshelf looking for the book.

He smacked on the blanket covering his legs several times playfully. "I like the duckling!"

She hummed and made a small triumphant noise when she located the book. She went back to her son, sliding next to him in his tiny bed and trying to make do with the fact that half her butt was not on the bed. She slung an arm around his shoulders and flipped it to the first page. "Why do you like him so much?" she muttered.

Aiden was quiet for several seconds as he closed his eyes, his face scrunched up as he thought on her question. For a second, she thought he'd fallen asleep until he opened them again. "He's living proof that no matter how ugly you are, you can still be beautiful. It's just a matter of time." She stared at him, slightly taken aback by his words. "Just like how I'm sick, but I still have you as my Mommy." He looked up at her with his big green eyes, filled with sincerity. "You are the beautiful part of me, Mommy."

**

Ethan stood rooted to his spot, staring at the crumpled blanket on the couch. For a second, he wondered why Skylar had slept on the couch again but then he remembered the things he told her and he sighed in regret. He rubbed his face with both hands before making his way to the kitchen, expecting to see her in there, making breakfast. 

Empty. The stove was inactive. The counter was clean. It was void of any living being. He frowned and looked at the clock, confirming the time. Why wasn't she making breakfast? Where could she be? 

The familiar rouse of panic he'd felt just several days ago when Skylar had pulled a similar disappearing act arose in his chest. He swallowed intently and brushed his stubble with his hand before exhaling. Emma had told him that he'd starve today. He didn't really take that to heart but now, as he faced an empty kitchen without any note whatsoever from Skylar, he was at a loss.

He looked around the house, searching for any hints of her. The garage was empty of her Jeep. Dog's leash was not on the hook in the study. Her coat and beanie and gloves weren't in the walk-in closet. He even dared to go into her bedroom only to see a well-made bed and hear the noise of complete silence. 

His thumb and forefinger started brushing together. He rested against the door panel of her bedroom. He should rush out in his rented car and look for her. Maybe he should ring John and maybe John would know. Emma, he could wake Emma and make her tell him where Skylar could be. He was frozen, nervousness and raw fear striking his every sense, disabling him from moving his legs. He was also starving.

He stared at the bed, undisturbed and empty. The smell of sandalwood and strawberries awakened memories of tumbles between sheets, echoes of her laughter and moans and demands jarred his mind. She was so amazing and pliant and soft that he had been momentarily blank. She may not have been a virgin - he clenched his fists at the knowledge of everything that had happened to the poor woman - but she was a virgin deep inside. 

He found her fumbling and nervousness adorable and heartbreaking. He did his best to be soft and gentle and kind and he felt the need in his core to make it mind-wrecking for her. For the first time in his entire life, he cared more about giving the woman he was bedding the best orgasm rather than his own pleasure. He coaxed her out of her nervous shell and taught her to see that her touch was the ultimate goal for a man - for him. And when he sank into her for the first time two nights ago, he knew he was home. He was rocked to his core and he lost the ever waning control he'd been reining so hard in a flash. He crashed down to Hades and soared to Heaven in just a millisecond.