by Brogan Riley
Her fierce attitude makes me grow hard. “In the worst case scenario, we’d have conjugal visits, you know.”
“In the worst case scenario, I’d find a good attorney and get you out of jail.”
“You see? You want to be my wife.”
“Of course I want to be your wife.” She nudges my chest with her elbow. “I think I’ll have a very interesting, criminal life with you.”
I slap her ass and a sigh of surprise leaves her mouth. “Come on. Nobody’s perfect.”
“You’re right. But we’re perfect for each other.” A pinch of sarcasm sprinkles her voice.
I nod. “Let’s go home. Our kids are waiting for us.”
Joy paints her face as she throws her arms around my neck. “I love you so much, Tyce.”
***
She has the lump removed two weeks later. It’s a very simple procedure and she’s ready to leave the hospital the next morning.
I pick her up and shove her into my new SUV. I start the engine and the car pulls out of the parking lot. We drive along a narrow road and then turn into a motorway. I pick up speed to reach our wooden little house as soon as possible. It’s situated two hours’ drive from Sally’s bar. It’s a sanctuary in the woods, but there’s a town ten miles away from it with good schools for our kids.
Emily is in our house, waiting with the kids.
“They did a couple of tests,” Rhue says.
I change the gears and then change the line. “What tests?”
“Ah, you know, hormones and blood sugar.”
“Is everything fine?” My heart flutters.
“More than fine on one hand. On the other hand… Well…”
“Rhue, talk to me.”
“Okay, just slow down. Or maybe stop. Yeah, just stop.”
I change the line and drive into a parking lot stretched in front of a small diner that must have been closed down merely a moment ago. My eyes meet hers. My fingers twitch. “Talk to me,” I demand.
She takes a deep breath. “Well, I’m pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” I feel like something has struck my brain.
“I thought you wanted to have kids with me.” Her voice stirs.
I chuckle. “I want to have a bunch of kids with you.”
Rhue
He looks so nervous that I stifle the urge to stroke him as I would stroke one of my kids.
“What is it, Tyce?”
He starts mumbling about an extension, about a bigger garden, about the other kids. I realize he’s talking to himself, not to me.
I feel so touched tears prick my eyes. He cares for my kids and me so much.
He’s a wonderful man, a responsible father, and a loving husband.
“Tyce, baby, that’s not a problem.”
“Diana needs her own bedroom and so does Caspar. The house is too small.” Anger coats his voice.
“Diana is a very smart girl and she never complains about sharing the bedroom with Jaclyn. That’s not the end of the world.”
He grunts. “The baby—“
“The baby will sleep in our bedroom in the beginning anyway. We’ll sort it out. No need to be nervous.”
Tyce
I’m not nervous.
I’m pissed off with myself. I should have known. I should have predicted. I should have…
She puts her hand on the back of my neck and my face meets her full tits.
A thought courses through my head. It’s good to be seen as a nervous person sometimes. Your wife offers you her tits in such moments. I inhale her musk scented with jasmine blossoms and spices, as my tongue tastes the softness of her skin. Heat rushes to my dick.
I kiss her tit, plunging my hand under her skirt.
“Tyce, people are staring.”
Yeah, two other cars have parked across the parking lot. A man lights up a cigarette and a woman stretches her legs.
“So what?” I say, kissing her neck.
“We’ll both end up behind bars if you don’t stop.”
I raise my head. “I’d cuff you and fuck you from behind in the prison cell.”
“You can cuff me and fuck me in our bedroom. No need to face the police.”
My dick is so hard it hurts. “Tonight.”
She chews her lower lip. “Anything else you want to try tonight?”
“I want to have your mouth wrapped around my cock.” I tuck a tendril of hair behind her ear. “And I’ll have my mouth on your greedy pussy.”
Her body shivers from desire and I stifle my need to fuck her right here and right now.
“We should go,” she says in a low voice.
“After you come on my finger.”
I fucking need to see her orgasm right here and right now.
“Somebody can see us,” she says.
“Nobody can see my hand under your skirt. Just relax, Rhue.”
In fact, we’re the only occupants of the parking lot now.
I slide my finger into her heat and curl it, stroking her pleasure point. Her eyes flutter as she gasps. I add my thumb and work her drenched pussy until her breath halts and her inner walls contract around my finger. Her body arches against the seat as she closes her eyes. A beautiful orgasm sharpens her face.
I don’t pull my finger out. Instead, I add another digit. She comes from her high and I start working her again. She’s so drenched her juices leak out of her pussy. I finger-fuck her faster and she clutches at the edges of her seat. I slide three of my fingers into her. Pain sharpens her face and she covers her mouth with her hand as she comes with a long moan.
I pull my fingers out of her channel and put them into my mouth, tasting her honeyed juices. Delicious. The sweetest pussy in the world.
“Tyce,” she gasps.
“Let’s go home, sweetness.”
She tosses her hair back. “Let’s go.”
Fifty minutes later, we park in front of our house. We eat a terrible meal that Emily prepared for us. Fuck me. That woman is the worst cook in the world, but her jokes and tricks make the kids turn into a four-person giggling tangle. I know who’s going to work as a clown during our birthday parties. As I mention it to Emily, she tilts her head and widens her eyes in surprise.
“Really?” she snaps.
“Really,” I say. “I’ll cook something edible in return.”
She mutters something and then flashes me a mischievous smile. “Your signature chicken stew?”
“Whatever you fancy.”
“And then your veggie lasagna?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll come over once a month. With Dumitra if you don’t mind.”
She is a tough negotiator. “Sure,” I nod.
“Alright, the offer accepted.”
Later this evening, our kids disperse into their bedrooms and fall asleep so Rhue and I can hide in ours and enjoy the rest of the evening together. We strip and walk into the bathroom. I turn on the hot water in the shower cabin and slap Rhue’s ass.
“Your turn, Rhue.”
“I know.” She chews her lower lip.
Chapter 13
Rhue
The heat of the water massages my back as I hold his thick shaft and lower to my knees. I’m not very experienced in sucking off a dick and Tyce’s erection is massive. Even thinking about having that stiff pole of his in my mouth gives me shivers of desire.
He pulls my hair together and winds it around his fist. My pussy pulses as the head of his cock touches my cheek.
“Open,” he commands.
I obey.
He holds his cock and guides it into my mouth. His thickness fills me as the musky taste of his precum layers my tongue. He is big. So big that I can barely take the head and a half of his length.
He pulls out and slams back into my mouth. I gag.
“Rhue, breathe, baby.”
I dig my fingers into his muscular thighs as he holds my head in place.
I like his wild need. His roughness.
I crave his dominance.<
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He starts thrusting. I gag again.
“Rhue, I want you to come for me.” Raw need coats his voice as dark desire burns in his eyes.
My fingers travel to my mound and slide down, searching for my clitoris. I start stroking myself as he keeps fucking my mouth. His thrusts are almost brutal, but I take. I want to take, now and for the rest of my life. I indulge myself in this decadent pleasure. Tension gathers in my tummy as my cheeks start to hurt. All the sensations fuse, creating an explosion. I moan my orgasm as his cock swells and his seed spurts down my throat.
I swallow every single drop.
Tyce pulls out of my mouth and helps me stand up. Our bodies clenched tight together, we enjoy the shower for half an hour. We’re groping and kissing and laughing.
They say sex is important in marriage.
I’d say good sex makes your life the forbidden Olympus. Yes, I have a young god in my bed and he loves me.
I love him so much it hurts.
He starts talking dirty things into my ear. Oh so dirty. We grab our towels and tumble out of the bathroom. Tyce rummages around the room to find a scarf. He bunches my wrists and ties them to the headboard of our bed. I’m lying on my back, spread for him. At his mercy.
He crawls on top of me, pushes his hard cock into me, and fucks me senseless.
Tyce
Two years later.
We’re celebrating Diana’s fifteenth birthday.
It’s a very joyful evening with an avalanche of sparkly balloons, an enormous birthday cake in all shades of pink, screeches, shouts, and laughter.
But it’s a very sad evening, too.
Noelle is here with us but it’s probably her last celebration. She is a fighter, but her cancer is merciless. Rhue and I have been looking after her daughter Bryah since she decided to move into the hospice. I bribed two social workers so that they would turn a blind eye to us. Otherwise Bryah would end up in foster care.
Yep, I’m a full-time criminal and my wife is no better. We made that decision together because we just couldn’t let Bryah lose everything. She’s losing her mother. She needs her family around her, now and in the future.
Rhue was unyielding in her search of Noelle. I supported her out the best I could. I knew it was very important to her.
It was my wife’s goal and need to find the owner of the death sentence that was hers for a moment by a junior doctor’s mistake.
Noelle is the owner of the fatal diagnosis. She’s a thirty-seven-year-old African-American woman and she’s a single mom. Her parents are too old to give Bryah a home. She learned about her cancer when she was pregnant with her daughter. She had to make a choice and she chose Bryah.
Noelle was so happy to meet us.
I donated a lump sum to one of the cancer research facilities and Noelle underwent a risky experimental therapy but it was far too late.
She asked me to look after her daughter.
So, I’m looking after her daughter.
Noelle is not bitter. She’s relieved. She said my money would help others like her so I keep supporting that research.
I’ve never been a religious person but I started attending Mass some time ago. Caspar and the younger girls attend with me. Rhue and Diana are still undecided. Rhue is kind of angry with God because of what happened to Noelle.
I think it’s my job in life to give a loving home to all those kids so touched by the storms of life.
I draw in a deep breath.
My eyes sweep over Noelle’s emaciated face. Her skin has a dark yellow tinge. She’s in excruciating pain but her lips curl into a smile. Bryah is playing with Colleen and Jaclyn and the three of them exude such joy it wipes away all the gloom of Noelle’s fate.
Rhue stands beside me. I can see she’s trying to hide her tears. My hand searches for hers and our fingers lace together.
“We can do so little,” she says in a quiet hoarse voice.
“It’s not little to Noelle.”
“I know but I wish I had some superpowers and could do more.”
“Me too.”
My phone rings. I plunge my hand into the pocket of my jeans and take it out. I look down at the screen. It’s Cole so I answer the call.
“What’s up, big brother?”
He grunts. “I need you.”
“I’m all ears.” I walk out of the house.
“You’re a guitarist.”
“Was.”
He takes a deep breath. “The band is going on a two-month tour and Lena can’t go because her kid has broken his leg. We need a guitarist.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I’m dead to the whole world. If the cops find out that I’m not I’ll end up behind bars.”
“It’s a tour of small venues in a small Eastern European country. You’ll perform as Ethan Smith. Nobody except Hunter and me will know. Not even Anita.”
“No fucking way.”
He grunts. “We need a guitarist. You are the best guitarist I know.”
“Was.”
“Tyce, come on. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t in a tight corner. The tour starts next Monday.”
“In eight days. There’s a lot of time to find a good guitarist.”
“Tyce, come on. I need you.” There’s raw emotion in his voice.
Pain courses through my heart. We’d been a team before the collision with the tank truck happened.
We relied on each other. We were inseparable.
One sweet little bitch ruined it. One explosion ruined everything else.
“Tyce, you fucking don’t get it, do you?”
I get it.
It’s not about finding a replacement. He needs his brother.
And so do I.
The family should stick together.
“Okay,” I rasp.
He exhales with relief. “Come over to the farmhouse in a week.”
“I will, but I won’t be alone.”
“Tyce, fucking hell, I have a wife and kids and they shouldn’t—“
“It’s not some random pussy, Cole. Rhue is my wife and I have six kids.”
“You have the fuck what?” he rumbles.
“You heard me, dick. Clean up the farmhouse. Cook something nice. Bye.” I disconnect.
Slim arms wrap around me from behind and Rhue’s sweet mouth touches my cheek. “I’ll start packing our stuff,” she says.
“You’re gonna spread your legs for me first.”
She purrs and we walk inside the house to enjoy the party.
Noelle dies twenty hours later. Rhue is with her when she lets out her final breath. My wife is so heartbroken she hides in our bedroom and cries for many hours.
I don’t know what to do so I call Cole.
Three days later.
I pull little Bryah to my chest as my body shakes. The little shit screeches, the sound causing tears to fill my eyes. A veil of moisture obscures my vision as Bryah’s mom rests in her grave. I weep like a girl.
Cole leans toward me and takes Bryah from my arms. I open my mouth to protest but the firmness in his eyes stops me. He holds Bryah with one arm, throwing his other arm over my back and pulling me to him. It’s like I remember. He’s my big brother and I’m the little shit he wants to keep safe and happy at all costs.
My eyes roam over the wreaths of flowers that pile around the grave. The girls throw blossoms into the grave and Rhue starts singing. Diana joins her and then Cole adds his husky voice. The tears blind me. It’s a celebration. A celebration of change. A celebration of life and death. Because death is part of our life? A celebration of peace. Noelle is not suffering anymore. She must be smiling at us.
We’re a mix of people, a mix of traditions, and that’s fucking wonderful.
The funeral ends and we walk toward the parking lot.
Cole urges us to get into the van. We take our seats as he settles himself behind the steering wheel.
The van pulls forward.
The kids start talking. Cole turns on the radio.<
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“You sure about that tour?” he asks. “I can cancel it.”
“It’ll do me good,” I say.
“He needs it,” Rhue adds from her seat behind mine.
Cole changes the gears and the van jumps onto a motorway. “Mae can’t wait to meet you all.”
Cole said she couldn’t attend the funeral because of her highly pregnant condition.
“We can’t wait to meet her, either,” Rhue says. “We’re like one crime family.”
Diana chuckles. “The Holmwood crime family.”
She knows what is going on. She’s very smart and figured it out in the very beginning, but the younger kids are still unaware or so we think.
“Very sassy that wife of yours,” Cole says. “And your daughter is the same.”
Rhue
We get off the van and I follow that bearded beast who’s also my husband’s brother into the farmhouse. A girl who looks my daughter’s age greets us in the hall. I know her face. She must be Maesen. A boy is clinging to her leg and she looks nine months pregnant. We shake hands.
The hairy beast kisses her on the mouth and grunts like a bear.
I can’t believe that the beast is Cole Holmwood. He looks nothing like the band’s lead singer.
He looks like a tramp in all honesty.
A man emerges from behind the wide stairwell. He has long brown hair and amber eyes.
“Hunter,” he says as he holds out a hand for me.
Diana stands in front of me and grabs Hunter’s hand. “I’m Diana. Nice to meet you.”
Hunter widens his eyes.
I look at my daughter. Well… Her puppy-like pleading eyes say it all. We’re going to have a serious chat together.
I wave my hand in greeting.
Hunter scratches his head, takes a step toward Tyce, and pulls him into his arms. “Fuck, kid, don’t do this again.” Emotion falters his voice.
The men slap each other on the back.
Maesen gestures for us to go to the dining room. The kids shout and cry as the whole group walks into a beautiful room with heavy green curtains and a marble fireplace. Every inch of the space is perfectly tidy, as shiny as a mirror. I don’t think the beast knows how to clean so it must be Maesen’s job. I’m impressed.
We spread out, taking our seats at a round mahogany table. The aromas rising from the platters placed neatly on the top make my mouth water. I smell cooked veggies, roasted meat, and a variety of salads. The beast grabs his boy. Hunter grabs Bryah and Tyce grabs our son. The youngest kids are occupied so I can focus on eating.
