“Where do you want these, man?”
My chest is hollow and my heart hangs on a noose in a cavern of empty space. “Guest room.”
Knox gives my shoulder a knowing squeeze as he starts down the hall to the left. Two guest rooms sit side-by-side. The first is full with our house’s newest guest. Her body is so still as Knox pops open the door and peeks inside that I have to assume she’s sleeping, but I can’t be sure. She could be dead.
The next room will be Sara’s. I hold my breath as Knox knocks, then opens it. He flicks on the lights. The bed is made, and the room is empty. The bathroom door is open and full of shadows but no bodies.
“She’s not here, man,” Knox says, turning to me. “She in your room?”
The thought seems ludicrous, but I nod, unable to come up with another answer. I follow Knox to my room. He knocks, but again there’s no answer. As was the case with the first two rooms, he waits a few seconds, then opens the door. The lights are on inside and the bathroom door is open. Curlicues of steam wrap around Sara’s body which is covered by a towel and nothing else. She looks up from where she stands in the bathroom doorway and, seeing us, gasps.
Knox looks immediately at his feet, drops the bags inside the room and beats a quick retreat. “Thanks again for everything, Sara.”
He’s smiling and I can hear laughter on his tone as he moves down the hall, clapping me on the back. He glances over his shoulder at me once and laughs outright. I probably would too. I feel stunned, like I’ve been clipped by a bullet in the chest hard enough to spin my whole body around.
I step into the room and close the door behind me, then place Brant’s squirming body in the center of the king bed. Sara walks up to its other side and kneels in front of Brant. He beams at her and when she reaches for his stomach, wraps his little hands around her fingers.
“Thank you for getting Brant,” she says. Her skin is flushed from the shower and the ribbons of her hair curl around her shoulders.
I clear my throat. “Thank you for saving my brother.”
She flicks her blue gaze up at me and shakes her head. She doesn’t smile. “I just hope I did enough.”
“You did enough.” My chest is tight and constricted and I shift my weight between my feet then glance at the door. “Your apartment was empty. We brought some of your things. Do you want me to help you put them away in the guest room?”
“No,” she says softly. “I’m tired.”
I nod. “Understandably. We can move you and Brant in there tomorrow. I’ll sleep in there tonight.”
I head to the door, but the moment I move, Sara stands up. The hand she’s got around the top of her towel – the only thing holding it in place – falls, and her nakedness hits me like an assault. She’s a fucking vision. I don’t dare move because if I do, it’ll be to devour her.
“You don’t have to do that.” She comes around the bed and is standing in front of me.
What is happening? I’m not sure. But I’m too weak to ask and sever the connection between us. She lifts the hem of my shirt and I let her bring it up over my head. She touches my neck and her fingers wander over my pecs to my abdomen and then to my belt. She flips it free and pulls it off in a single motion, then moves to the zipper.
I’m still frozen where I stand even though I’m fully naked and so is she. She starts to kiss me. Her mouth following the same trajectory her hands had. She pulls my nipple into her mouth, then bites the skin below. Biting and kissing and licking and sucking until she reaches my thighs. She’s on her knees now and I catch myself on the bed. Brant’s fallen asleep in its center and I don’t want him to wake and see this so I lower myself beneath its edge and roll onto my back. Her lips find the head of my erection and I give myself up to the sensation, fully surrendering to the pleasure she wants to give. I’ll take anything and everything she’s willing to offer.
“Please, baby,” I murmur, but there is no end to that sentence. I am hers.
Her hands massage my balls and her tongue works the base of my dick while her other hand folds around the tip. My mind is a haze as I live in nirvana for the next few minutes. Eternities pass before I crest with violence. I flip her body over and straddle her face and press my dick into her mouth until I reach the back of her throat. She opens for me, gag reflex massaging the head of my cock and a momentary guilt grips me but isn’t enough to keep me from pressing even deeper into her. I meet her gaze as the orgasm tackles me from behind.
She looks up at me and I watch her swallow, feeling every sensation as she milks me with her tongue. My legs go straight and I roar into the floor as the last of the cum spills from my dick and onto her mouth. She licks it off and the urge to cover her in my semen comes over me, like I’m marking her as mine, as if it would come with a scent and a smell that would be a warning to other men. She gasps as I pull free of her lips and tries to rise up onto her elbows. I hold her down. Grabbing my belt from the floor, I take her hands and bind them together around the nearest foot of the bed.
“Keep your legs spread,” I say in a gruff voice, rougher than I wanted it. “Wider.” I press her thighs apart with my palms until she’s fully spread-eagle and bared before me. That pink slit that I want to write my name into in saliva and cum. I want to impregnate her. I want her to carry my child. I want her to be my wife. I want to grow old and die with her.
“Don’t move,” I warn.
I don’t waste the time teasing her, but pull her clit into my mouth, sucking hard enough for her to moan as the line between pleasure and pain blurs together. I slip a finger inside of her as moisture drips down my chin, letting me know just how ready she is for me, then a second, then a third, then a fourth. My lips and tongue work her clit and I pound my fingers in and out of her until she releases a breathy scream. She tries to bring her legs together as the orgasm comes, but I hold her in place with my elbows. Her pussy grabs my hand, trying to force it out as the tremors of her orgasm subside.
“Dixon,” she moans, “oh sh…” She starts to squirm but I keep her knees pinned where they are. The juice of her orgasm drips out of her cunt and I lap at it like a dog. “I’m so sensitive, Dixon, I can’t…”
“You will,” I tell her.
I bite the skin on the inside of her thigh and she kicks involuntarily. “Dixon, I don’t know…”
“Shh. You’ll do what I say. And now I want you to come again for me.”
I hold her down and press my tongue to her clit. It’s swollen and throbbing. My hand in her pussy begins pumping in and out. Two fingers again as I prime her and warm her up. “Come now,” I bark as her body starts shivering and the muscles in her thighs begin clenching and releasing.
She moans deeply as she does. I look at her face and her eyes are unfocused, her chest is heaving and her arms are clenched. She’s spent. Tells me she can’t go anymore, but this isn’t about her. This is about me and I’m nothing if not selfish. I pin her body and tell her to beg for me. She begs. I tell her to scream for me and she screams.
I bring her to orgasm three more times with my mouth before I take her limp thighs between my hands and spread them around my hips. I fuck her half a dozen times. She isn’t moving by the time I’m finished. Her mouth forms a small smile and her eyelids are hooded. She’s got my semen all over her body, but mostly inside of it. Deep inside. I pull her breast into my mouth and bite her nipple. She writhes and pulls at the bindings still wrapped around her hands.
“Won’t do you any fucking good,” I whisper against her mouth. “You’re mine.” My dick is growing hard inside of her again.
“I know,” she says.
“You aren’t going anywhere.” Can she hear the desperation in my voice? The plea behind the threat.
“I know.” She smiles and her eyes open long enough for her to focus on mine. “I’m not.”
My voice catches and breaks. “What changed?” I push her hair back from her eyes as tears come to mine. I’m fucking wasted. Spent
. Physically and emotionally. But to have her like this is putting sight before a blind man. Without it, I’d live in the dark forever.
“Mer told me what you did for her. What you all did for her. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I should have known you wouldn’t put Brant or me in danger without a good reason. Mer seems like a good reason.”
I blink down at her, wondering if Marguerite had been right all along. Maybe there really is a god. If there isn’t, I can’t think of another reason this is happening to me now after all the carnage I’ve inflicted. Well, I can think of one reason. Mer. Mer, who I tried to have killed. Who at this moment, is saving my life.
“I love you,” I say, gliding my hips back and thrusting them forward again, hard. Too hard for her, but she takes it, and doesn’t complain except to gasp.
“I love you…you too,” she says as I pound into her again. I pull my cock out of her wet pussy and come on her chest, stomach and face before waiting a few minutes more and sliding into her again. “Don’t stop.”
I don’t plan on it. “I want you to drink it again,” I tell her.
“I want to drink it. Come here, baby.”
I pull my cock out of her and watch her lick her juices and mine free. The sight is too much: Her, covered in the product of half a dozen orgasms, hands bound, submitting to me fully in every way. Her heart. Her body. I want to crush her to my chest and bury her in there so she’ll always be close. Instead, I bury my shaft in her pussy and come one final time, angling her hips up and pounding down while my thumb works her clit like a button.
She comes for me and I come for her and we lay there for a moment, side by side trying to catch our breaths and failing before I untie her hands and carry her to the shower. She lets me wash her and I wonder if she can tell how much I need this because even though her pussy is red and swollen, she lets me press her against the shower wall and fuck her once more.
I kiss her neck. She wraps her arms around my shoulders and that night when we fall asleep with Brant beside us, I reach over her body and hold his little hand and I understand the difference between what I have with my brothers and what I have with Sara and Brant. This is what Knox meant. This, right here in my arms, is my family. And nothing will ever threaten that. Not anymore. Not even me.
Three months later…
Sara
The sun is shining and Dixon and I are on the floor of the covered porch, Brant sprawled out on a blanket between us. “I can’t believe how big the little guy is,” Dixon says, grinning like a fool. It’s that grin that makes me feel hopeful and less nervous. I’ve got news and I don’t know how he’ll take it. That’s why it’s been two weeks and I haven’t said anything. I’ve just been pretended to feel ill whenever I’ve gone out drinking with Mer and the brothers.
“Babies do that, you know,” I muse.
“Do what?”
“Grow.”
Dixon lunges across Brant’s body and tackles me with a kiss. Brant squeals in delight beneath him. “You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you?”
“I did learn something in medical school.” I laugh lightly and squint against the sun shining in through the windows. I take a sip of the water in front of me and Dixon stares for a moment up at the sky through the glass. It’s cold today, but the floor heaters are on and I’m toasty warm in just a sweater and leggings. “Everything okay?”
He shrugs, returning to the present. I know he’s had a lot on his mind with the current RussianmafiaMexicancarteldeposit-boxstillfullofheroin situation. It hasn’t resolved itself, though it would seem that we’re out of the line of fire for the time being. At least most of us. Dixon has been open with everything since that night at the barn, but that doesn’t mean that Aiden’s been open with him.
In fact, Aiden’s been cagier than ever. We assume it’s because he’s trying to keep distance between us and the ones that are hunting Alina. Recognizing her connections, her fame and her beauty, someone is going to want her back – and I don’t mean her brother. Aiden won’t stand for that though. His connection to the girl is astounding at best, but I don’t dare ask Aiden and it’s not something Dixon or any of the other brothers understand.
Dixon shakes his head and looks again to Brant, who is currently using Dixon’s knee to try to stand. He makes it upright for a few seconds before plopping back onto his bum, and on the second try manages a few steps. “So damn proud of you, kid,” he says and I’m not sure whether he’s talking to me or Brant, but I blush all the same.
“I’m sure Brant’s proud of Uncle Dixon too. Just like I am.” I look down at the red-and-black checkered blanket beneath us and gulp. “So I…”
“I…” Dixon says at the same time I do.
I smile. “Go ahead.”
Dixon’s squinting at me hard. He’s shaved his head and it makes him look meaner, which is hard for me to fathom with the way he cradles Brant so tenderly. “What’s a guy got to do to get you to stop calling me that?” He takes a sip of his beer and sets it down, then rubs his hand over Brant’s curls.
“What?”
“Uncle.”
Dismay swells in my chest, and falls into my gut as ash. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t know it bothered you.”
“It does.”
My fingers instinctively slide over my stomach. Sh… “What do you want to be called then?”
I clear my throat and try to remain optimistic, or at least accept the finality of what’s happened to me and what we’ll need to do to move forward, be it together or apart. The thought makes me want to weep. I love Dixon and I’d want him to be a part of his child’s life. Otherwise, that means I’ll be raising two fatherless kids alone. Maybe this is my fault. I should have asked him the moment I found out. I never took that Plan B pill way back when. Any of those times. Too much was happening and I forgot. It’s a lousy excuse, but it’s the only one I have…
“Dad.”
“What?” My voice isn’t my own. Brant has waddled from Dixon’s arms to me and even when he reaches up towards my neck and pulls on a lock of my hair, I don’t move.
“Dad. I’m getting tired of this uncle crap.” He winks at me and tears immediately blur my vision.
I choke, “You…you want to be called dad?”
“What the hell else?” I laugh and rub my eyes, hoping to keep him from seeing the emotion in my expression. Then I laugh. When I look up he’s grinning. “So? What’s a guy gotta do?”
Marshalling it for a moment, I say shakily, “Well I would have kind of expected a ring before making any dramatic changes to your title.”
Dixon smiles at me gently. “You mean, like this?”
He glances down, reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box in cobalt velvet. Without prelude, he tosses it to me and I catch it in my left hand. “I…I….” Brant is chewing on my hair right now and it doesn’t make any difference.
Dixon cocks his chin towards the box. “Just open it.”
I do and a banded sapphire shines up at me. It catches the light and looks like a drop of rain, solidified. “I…”
“So what do you say?” This time Dixon’s voice dips and when I glance up at him, he looks away. His nervousness is what breaks me.
“Shit.” Wrapping one arm around Brant, I throw the other around Dixon’s neck and I kiss him with every bit of worry that I had in me so that by the time I break the kiss, there is only love left. “I love you so much.”
He laughs and there’s a gloss to his eyes that makes tears fall from my own. He pulls me against him fully. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes,” I say. “Of course.” He removes the ring from the box and, reaching around both my body and Brant’s, finds my hand and slides the sapphire onto my finger.
“Do we have a deal then? A ring for a title change?”
I’m laughing and crying and can’t control the words that come out of my mouth as I stare at his dark hand clutching my fingers and the little mixed boy sitting
between us shrieking with laughter. He could have been ours.
“Yes. Of course. It’s just…you’ll also be a dad. An actual dad. I found out two weeks ago and I didn’t tell you because I was nervous and…”
He takes my chin and tilts it up, then breaks my sentence with a kiss. “I know.” His hand slides over my belly and he grips the back of my neck in a way that’s possessive and sure enough for the both of us. “I’ve known you were pregnant for the past week. You’re a shit liar, Sara.”
“Is that why you proposed?”
He kisses me again, this time lingering even longer. Long enough for me to feel his erection through his jeans. I rub my hip against it and he grunts. “I’ve had the ring for six weeks.”
My pulse is schizophrenic and Dixon struggles to wipe the tears away from my cheeks before the next ones fall. I kiss him hard, first on the mouth, then against the throat. “Are you excited to be a father?”
Dixon lifts Brant from my lap and kisses his round, quivering cheek. He meets my gaze, grins and says, “I thought I already was.”
If you enjoyed The Hunting Town, leave your review on Goodreads – The Hunting Town (Brothers, volume I)
Interested in more books by Elizabeth? Keep reading for an excerpt from Brothers, volume II – The Hunted Rising – and for more information on Elizabeth's science fiction romance series, Population.
The Hunted Rise
(Brothers, volume II) – On sale early 2018!
Drugs in a bag in a box. Hunters hunting. The hunted waiting.
Alina, the Russian mafia's princess, remains under the prison of Aiden's protection. He keeps her safe though equally, keeps his distance. Afraid to leave her room – afraid of everything – Alina does not trust the man who her brother entrusted to keep her safe and she will run if he cannot breach the distance between them. Where? She does not know now that her brothers are dead, likely both of them.
The Hunting Town (Brothers Book 1) Page 36
