Nodding, I lift my chin with a smirk. “Yeah. I know how long I been out,” I say as smart-assed as I mean it to sound. “I also know that she needs me, they need me, and fuck if that don’t feel good.”
“Just make sure this is for all the right reasons. I don’t want either one of you to wake up with regrets,” he says.
I know all of this stems from his regrets in his own past. Hell, I have them too, a whole fucking mountain of them. He has to let them go, if he doesn’t, they’ll destroy him, and any future he may have with someone wonderful.
“Channing is special. I’m not asking her to marry me tomorrow, but I know without a doubt that there is a future there. She’s mine, Wyatt. She was meant for me.”
He reaches for my shoulder, giving me a squeeze and then sighing. “I know, I just worry about you, about her too.”
Lifting my chin, I open the door, then look back at him with a grin. “Don’t worry, I got this,” I wink.
He chuckles behind me, saying that he’ll see me in the morning. Climbing the steps of the duplex, I knock on the door. I have a key, but walking inside doesn’t feel right yet. Granted, I’m living here, sleeping in Channing’s bed, I just want to make sure she’s completely comfortable with me before I make myself completely at home.
I tug off my dirty work boots while I wait for her to open the door. When she does, I look up from my crouched position and am completely blown away by how fuckin’ pretty she is. Standing, I take my boots in my hand and step into the house. Dropping them next to the door, I close it behind me, twisting the lock without looking.
“Rylan?” she asks.
Wrapping my hand around her waist, I tug her against my chest. Dipping my chin, I press my lips to hers in a hard kiss. She immediately moans, melting against me. She places her palms on my chest and tilts her head to the side in an invitation for more.
Sliding my tongue along the seam of her lips, I taste her. Opening her mouth, she welcomes me inside of her with a moan. Slipping my dirty hand down to her ass, I squeeze, enjoying the hitch in her breath. Slowly, I break the kiss, not wishing to, but knowing she has to breathe.
“Dinner’s ready,” she rasps.
Lifting my head from hers, I frown. “Told you, sweetheart, that I could wait until tomorrow. I’ll cash my check and buy groceries. I’m good until then, swear to fuck,” I grunt.
She smiles, and fucking shit, with her plump red swollen lips, and her lowered lids, she looks like a wet dream. I want to carry her back to the bedroom and fuck her until she’s screaming my name. I mean, I’ll do it later, but I want to do it right now.
“I know you did. It’s nothing special, just tacos,” she shrugs.
Lifting my hand, I cup her cheek. “Nothing special? You made me tacos?” I ask.
She nods. “Went to the store. It’s just beef, fresh tortillas, a tomato, beans and rice, Rylan. It’s seriously not anything fancy at all.”
Dipping my chin, I brush my lips across her. “May be nothing fancy, but sweetheart, nobody has ever cooked for me before.”
“What, you mean like a girlfriend?” she asks, her face turning pink when she does.
I shake my head. “No, Channing, like nobody,” I mutter.
“What about when you were little?” she asks.
I could tell her horror stories, and from the look in her eyes, she’s got some of her own as well. One day we’ll swap life stories, but that isn’t going to be today over her presumably delicious fuckin’ tacos. It may not even be this year, but it will happen—one day.
“Wyatt’s mama did a lot for me back then. She’s a good woman, took care of me when my own didn’t. She’d send me off with sandwiches to hide in my room,” I shrug.
“Is Wyatt’s mom your aunt?” she asks.
I slide my hand up from her ass, and place my palm on her lower back, guiding her toward the kitchen. “Yeah, by marriage. My mama and Wyatt’s daddy are brother and sister. Good news is, Wyatt’s daddy didn’t get that nasty drug and alcohol habit that my mama got. Wyatt had things much better than I did, and luckily, his mama was willing to share some of that with me.” I shrug.
Sitting down at the small table, Channing sits across from me. When I look up into her eyes, I expect to see sadness and pity in her gaze, but I don’t. All I see is understanding. It’s fucking beautiful too. Downright goddamn gorgeous understanding.
“I like that for little boy Rylan,” she smiles.
Shaking my head, I give her a smile. “Yeah, I liked it, too,” I admit.
We don’t speak about our pasts again. Instead, we put food on our plates. I hold back, not wanting to eat too much so that she can have as much as she wants. She is sustaining another life, and I’ll survive if I don’t eat until I’m full.
I watch her eat, wondering if I’ve ever really watched a woman eat before. If I haven’t, I missed out on a fuck’ve a lot. It’s sensual, sexy, and downright erotic. By the time she’s finished, I’m hard as a fucking rock. If she thinks she’s getting out of this kitchen without at least two orgasms, she’s lost her goddamn mind.
Chapter Eleven
CHANNING
I can feel his gaze on my back as I wash the dishes. A thrill shimmies up and down my spine as I wash and dry our dinner plates. I want his touch, crave it even. I’ve been thinking about his mouth on me, his dick inside of me, all day long. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to go until I combust, or tackle him, whichever comes first.
I’ve never felt this way before. It’s new and exciting. I shouldn’t want him the way that I do. I shouldn’t want him inside of me, not when just a few days ago I thought that I was in love with James. Not when I’m carrying another man’s baby. But here I am, here he is, and I want him—every piece of him—the convict and the good man.
I jump, not expecting Rylan’s hand to wrap around my stomach. His mouth touches the side of my neck and I can’t hold back the moan that escapes.
“Ry,” I breathe.
He hums against my neck, his tongue sneaking out to taste me. His fingers dance down my stomach and quickly pop the button of my pants. I press my lips together, pushing my ass back, feeling his hard length through my jeans.
“Sweetheart,” he grunts, tugging on my zipper before he pushes my pants and panties down my legs.
I stiffen wondering if he’s going to fuck me the way James did. Dry and painful. But then all negative thoughts disappear when his fingers slide through my center. He gently glides his fingers through my folds, gathering the wetness that’s begun to pool there, then swirls them around my clit. Playing with me—taking from me the way he does, the way I love.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he murmurs against my skin. I whimper, nodding, but otherwise unable to speak. “Tip these gorgeous hips for me,” he orders.
I do as he gently demands, tipping them, gripping the edge of the sink so tight that my knuckles turn white. His head behind me disappears, then I feel something warm and wet against my center, and it isn’t his fingers. I look down to see Rylan’s head between my legs, from behind.
His tongue flicks my clit, my legs tremble without warning and I’m unable to control myself. I grind down, against his face. It’s probably unladylike or something, I don’t really know, and right now I don’t really care. All I can think about is his mouth on me and how fantastic it feels.
I can’t spread my legs wider, and my movements are stunted by the jeans that are around my knees. It’s sexy, it’s a little dirty, and it’s hot as hell. Rylan’s hands grab ahold of my ass and spread my cheeks apart while he continues to pay very close attention to my clit.
“I’m close,” I exhale.
My words are breathless, and I’m surprised I can even speak. Closing my eyes, my head falls forward and I shift my hips back even more. Rylan growls before he works me even faster and only then does my body break out in goosebumps and I let out a long sigh as I come. It isn’t an explosion it’s more like a sweet relief, and it’s beautiful.
He moves f
rom between my thighs, but I can’t even attempt to look behind me, or do anything but stand where I am. My hands holding the counter are the only reason I’m not a pile of flesh on the floor at this point. Then, I feel his heat against my back and his cock between my legs.
“Rylan,” I mumble.
Rylan places both of his hands over the tops of mine. Releasing the grip on the counter, he laces his fingers with my own and together we hold onto the counter, his arms cage me in, protecting me. Lifting my head, I turn to look up at him.
His brown eyes look down at me, warm and gentle, so damn soft that I wonder how on earth this became my life. Then slowly, as if he has all of the time in the world, he shifts his hips and pushes into me. Moving my ass back, I accept as much of him as I can, welcoming him into my body. His cock stretches me, but I’m ready, prepared, and waiting.
“Sweetheart,” he breathes once he’s seated completely inside of me. His fingers flex with mine, it sends a warmth throughout my body that I’ve never felt before. “You feel so good,” he groans. “So sweet, my woman.”
The warmth intensifies, the more he moves. I want him faster and harder, but he’s in complete control and by the look in his eyes, this is going to be at his slow set pace. His woman. His. Not a dirty secret. Not someone he hides from the world, rents shitty motel rooms for, fucks and leaves. No, I’m his. Tears prick the backs of my eyes and I try to keep them from falling from the beauty of it all.
He continues to slowly slide in and out of me, making love to me in a way that I’ve never felt before—from the inside out. His eyes stay connected to mine, his cock moving and filling me over and over. Without realization my body climbs, searching for my release. I can’t get there though, he’s moving too slowly, too precisely.
“I need more. Something, please,” I all but beg.
He smiles, gripping my hand in his and lifting it off of the sink. He guides our hands between my legs, and I gasp when he presses my fingers to my clit.
“Rylan. I’ve, not really,” I fumble with my words.
He chuckles, his eyes softening even more, and they lighten to an almost clear-ish brown color. They’re beautiful, and I forget that our hands are between my legs, as I get lost in his gaze. He moves my fingers against my clit, and I gasp at the sensation.
“Come for me, Channing. Let me feel you squeeze my cock, sweetheart,” he rasps.
I nod, unable to speak as his fingers work mine against my clit. Eventually, he stops moving and I’m lost in myself, in pleasuring myself. He grunts, his eyes holding mine captive. My body shakes slightly, trembles actually, as I climb higher and higher toward my release.
“Come, Channing,” he says through his clenched jaw.
I whimper, my hips beginning to jerk against my touch. My eyes slide closed involuntarily, and I let out a cry as I come. He growls, his fingers flexing and then he bucks and jerks until I feel his cock grow and he empties inside of me. My head falls back against his shoulder, my lips finding his neck and I kiss his skin through his orgasm.
“Fuck,” he curses. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he breathes.
RYLAN
I stay buried inside of Channing for as long as possible. Soaking up her scent, and the way she kisses my neck. I shiver, enjoying the way she feels, everywhere. Slowly, achingly slow, I pull out of her body, and take a step back, completely releasing her. I smirk when I see my cum leak down the inside of her thigh.
Tugging my pants up, I zip the zipper then pull Channing’s up her legs as well. Although I’m a bit disappointed when she’s covered. Next time, I want her naked and doing dishes, or cooking, or maybe just naked in the kitchen waiting for me would do too, I’m not a picky man. Channing naked is all I really need.
“Thanks for dinner, sweetheart,” I murmur against her neck, nipping her skin with my teeth.
She turns around quickly, placing her palms on my chest and tips her head back. “Do I get a thanks like that every time I cook?” she asks, her lips twitching with a smile.
Lowering my head, I brush my lips across her own. “If that’s what you want, it’s what you’ll get.” Pressing my lips against hers, I taste her lips, then slide my tongue deep into her mouth and take all of her.
“Yeah, it’s what I want,” she exhales. I chuckle, taking a step back and looking at the sink. It’s empty, but there are clean dishes piled up next to it.
“Whatever you want, you got it,” I shrug. “You have a drying towel?” I ask.
She opens a drawer next to her and brings out a towel. “You’re going to dry?” she asks, sounding in awe.
I snort. “Not a hardship to dry some dishes. Go rest on the couch or something. Maybe find a movie to watch?” I suggest.
I can feel her eyes staring at me. I don’t ask her why she seems so surprised by my move to help clean up dinner, or by my suggesting a movie. She’s never had this before, never had a partner. I haven’t either. I’m new at it all, and I know that I’ll fuck it up, eventually. But tonight, and every night I’m going to try to make her life that much easier, better—happier.
Channing deserves it, fuck, she deserves so much more, so much better. I’m going to try to make her not completely regret inviting me into her home, into her bed, and into her heart.
Once the dishes are dried. I put away what I can, not sure where half of her shit belongs. I leave the clean dishes that I can’t place in a pile on the counter, and make my way out to the living room. Channing is there, curled into a ball on the sofa, passed the fuck out.
Laughing, I walk over to her, slowly I bend down and slide my arms beneath her body. Picking her up, I carry her to her bedroom. She can shower tomorrow, tonight she’s fucking exhausted. She needs her rest.
Slowly, I set her down on the bed and go about undressing her. I think about searching for some pajamas to change her into, but decide those will just be in the way in the morning when I wake up for work.
My before dawn fuck this morning was out of this world, and I plan on a repeat performance tomorrow—and every day until the day that I die. Channing’s body feels that amazing. Pulling the sheets over her bare breasts, I grit my teeth and fight my cock from going hard.
Leaving her alone, I decide to take a shower. I had a long sweaty day, followed by a fantastic fuck. It’s only eight in the evening, but I’m just as tired as Channing. I need some goddamn sleep. I take a quick shower, soaping and rinsing my entire body and making a mental note for the shit I need from the store when I go tomorrow.
Once I’m clean, I dry off with Channing’s girly as fuck light yellow towel, then make my way to bed. Foregoing any clothes at all, I slide into bed naked and wrap my arm around her waist pulling her back against my front. She hums in her sleep and pushes against me a little more.
Closing my eyes, I inhale her scent. This is what my life was missing. This right here. Before I went away, I wouldn’t have ever imagined sleeping next to the same woman, or any woman for that fact. I fucked bitches and walked away. I hardly ever did the deed in a bed, let alone slept with any of them.
Now that I had five years sleeping alone in a cold cell, I can appreciate this moment. I may sound like a pussy, but I’m not going to waste a goddamn second of what Channing is offering me. I am going to enjoy this, every fucking minute of having her as my own.
As much as I want this to last forever, I don’t know if that is even realistic. Does anyone stay with one person the rest of their lives anymore? Would she even want me for that long?
Wyatt isn’t wrong to worry about her, he’s a good man worried about a good woman. In reality, it should be him in my place, taking care of Channing and her new baby. I’m too fucking selfish to let that happen though, to let anyone else replace me.
Pulling her a bit tighter against my chest, I slip my thigh between her legs and wrap my hand around her full tit. Squeezing it gently when I feel her wetness against my skin. The reminder of what we shared just an hour ago, lulls me to a sense of security.
I don’t kn
ow what the future will bring, if she’ll end up hating me when she realizes just how fucking bad I am. When she realizes that I killed a woman like her, a future mother and her child, but for now I’m going to soak up every bit of her she’ll allow me to, and protect her from that jackass, James.
Chapter Twelve
CHANNING
The doctor hands me the little black and white image. A baby. It’s all real, really real. It is confirmed one hundred percent, with a heartbeat fluttering on the screen and everything. I’m going to be a mom. I can’t believe it’s happening. The positive test, the bouts of morning sickness that I didn’t quite understand, the firm roundness of my belly, all of those didn’t make this feel as real as this one tiny, grainy photograph.
“Now, will we be seeing a daddy?” the receptionist asks.
The doctor has left, and told me to make an appointment for four weeks from now. I stare back at the girl behind the counter, she’s about ten years or so older than me, and I’m not sure what I should tell her. Do I tell her there is no father? Do I tell her Rylan is the father? Odds are that he will be with me every step of the way unless he takes off.
Biting the corner of my lip, I decide to just tell her. “Rylan Lindsay,” I announce. She freezes, her eyes slowly swing to mine and she looks as if she’s been hit by a freight train. “Do you know him?” I ask.
It wouldn’t surprise me, she looks about his age. She’s pretty, and I don’t think Rylan was ever a choir boy when it came to women. She looks behind her at the open door, then back over to me.
“I know him from school, and around town. You know they do blood work here, we’ll know if your using,” she sneers. Her now pale face returning its color and adding a tint of angry red.
I blink. Unsure if I really heard her correctly. “I’m not using. I never have. Rylan isn’t either,” I announce. I don’t know it for certain, but he doesn’t appear to be, and I’ve been around users long enough to see the signs pretty clearly.
CONVICT: An Unfit Hero Novel Page 9
