Hormotional

by K. S. Adkins

  “Lizzy said you’re old news, so playing the stalker angle is only gonna get you hurt.”

  “You gonna hurt me, Lincoln?”

  “If I have to.” He smiled into his drink.

  “Right.”

  “Or you could tell me why she curbed your ass and maybe, if I’m feeling like she overreacted like women tend to do, I could help you out. You know, since you love her and all.”

  “What went down is between me and her,” I said bluntly. “I break something, I fix it. Mind your own fucking business. We’ve already had this talk.”

  “You break Lizzy it is my business and fuck your talk.”

  “‘Fraid that’s not how this is going to go.”

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong,” he threatened. “That woman has been broken enough. You see Lizzy now, you didn’t see Lizzy raising her boy without Jon. You didn’t see what watching him bleed out at her feet did to her. You’re the first she let stick around, and yeah, she smiled when she heard your name. But she ain’t smiling now,” he said, leaning in. “I don’t give a goddamn how badass you think you are, you fuck with her, you fuck with me. You do not want to fuck with me. The next time we meet up like this, the last thing we’ll be doing is talking.”

  Because I had a job to do and a woman’s walls to break down, I pushed Lincoln a little further to see where he would go. “Clue in, asshole, when she wakes up, she thinks about me, not you. Prior to me, none had staying power and you liked that. You like that she needed you. She doesn’t need your protection anymore because she has mine. You do not want to get between Lizzy and me, we clear? We both know you can’t afford this loss.”

  Nostrils flaring with alcohol pumping through his veins, he draws back ready to strike when, just as I predicted, Lizzy got between us.

  “Lincoln,” she warned. “Stand down.”

  “Fuck this prick,” he spat, literally. “He thinks he knows shit but doesn’t know. She’s family, asshole, my family, remember that.”

  Saluting him, I grinned at his hostility then lean forward to inhale her. Rounding on me, she realized how close we are and backed up. “You miss me,” I said loud enough for all to hear.

  “Why are you stalking me?”

  “You’re flushing,” I pointed out. “Fucking beautiful.”

  “It is not,” she said, trying not to fan herself. “What is wrong with you?”

  “Getting hard watching you heat up.”

  “Well, as the town slut—”

  “I didn’t mean that,” I said, pulling her to me. “Not a single fucking word.”

  “I don’t give a f—”

  “Jealous,” I said for her ears only. “I was jealous. I know others came before me, Lizzy.” Pulling her between my legs, I tilted her chin up and whispered, “But this is me telling you none come after me. I’m not letting you go.”

  “You were jealous?” she asked with wide eyes.

  “Never had been until you,” I said and kissed her nose. “I didn’t even know that’s what it was ‘til I calmed down long enough to recognize it.”

  Her body was hot like a furnace. Her cheeks were flush, her pupils were dilated, and her nipples were hard. Some of it had to do with the flashes, the rest was her response to me. “I came here to tell you this; now I’m gonna go. But I’ll be at your door at midnight to finish saying what I have to say. Make sure it’s unlocked.”

  “Jealous?” she asked again as if the concept was completely foreign to her.

  “And be naked,” I ordered before I bit her bottom lip. I moved her back and exited out of the door I entered in.

  I’d given her less than two hours to be ready for me. I was back in my office in thirty, and she was home in forty-five.

  Elizabeth Hudson wouldn’t be walking straight tomorrow.

  The garage was cool as it always was after hours. The only lights on were those of the exits signs, but it was enough to allow me to see Luke’s head between my legs. Legs, mind you, that were up and over his shoulder while my ass balanced precariously on the hood of his Camaro. The sounds coming from him were animalistic and hungry. He ate me like a man starved, and I’d come on his tongue twice already. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t muster up even an ounce of anger at the man. Luke, with his tongue and words, had wiped my memory clean.

  Fisting his hair, I demanded he suck my clit so I could come again.

  With his fingers deep in my hips, he sucked as told, and when he added a pull, I came loud and long.

  Hauling me to my feet, he spun me around and putt pressure on my lower back, signaling me to go tits down onto the hood. Working me with his free hand, I moaned and spread my legs wider. Vaguely, I wondered why there were times I was dry like the Sahara, and then times like this that I was dripping like a faucet. When he pulled my hips back and filled me with his hard cock, all thoughts of menopause flew out the window.

  “You missed my cock,” he grunted as he fucked me. “Tell me, baby.”

  “I missed it,” I whined pitifully. “I missed you.”

  “Goddamn right you did,” he snarled, then adjusts himself, which made him go deeper. “Missed you, Lizzy. Missed this pussy, this tight fucking pussy.”

  I wanted to say something sarcastic like, the town slut having a tight pussy would be an oxymoron, but he moved just right and no words came out. They couldn’t because I was too busy coming…again.

  Seeing double and hoping my knees wouldn’t buckle, Luke spanked my ass hard.

  “Do it again,” I demand.

  “You like that?”

  “Yes.”

  The thwack from his palm ricocheted inside the garage—the sound crisp, clear. “You like this?” he asked, taking a fist full of my hair and tugging it.

  “Fuck yes, I do,” I cried out in abandon.

  “That’s my girl,” he praised then tugged harder to bring our mouths together. When he gave me his tongue, I welcomed it. When he covered my tits with his hands, I reached behind me to sink my fingers into his ass. “Gonna come so hard,” he warned me. “Then I’m gonna take you upstairs and take you slow. You want that, Lizzy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let go for me.”

  In doing so, Luke came fast and hard and beautifully. Not even giving himself time to recover, he pulled out, took my hand, and I followed him upstairs. Once inside my place, neither one of us bothered to fix our clothes. Luke with his cock out, me with my skirt up over my ass with his come dripping down my legs…what a fucking pair we made.

  “Come here,” he said with a head jerk.

  When I was within grabbing distance, he latched on, dipped me back and kissed me slowly. Ready for round two, I go for his cock, but he chuckled and said, “Need a few, Lizzy.”

  Shit, fine.

  “Want a beer?”

  “Yeah,” he said, coming into the kitchen and hugging me from behind. “Thanks.”

  Handing him his, he also took mine, opened it, and handed it back. “We need to talk.”

  “If you plan to dump me after several great orgasms, I’m going to be pissed.”

  “I’m not dumping you,” he said frowning. “Christ, you think I’d take you hard and then do that?”

  “Who says we need to talk after they fuck? I’ve seen enough movies to know it’s thanks for the pussy but it stinks.”

  “The hell kind of movies are you watching, woman? Jesus, I wanted to talk to you about what went down the other night,” he said seriously. It was difficult to take it that way when his cock was staring at me, but I persevered.

  “So talk,” I prompted him.

  “It’s not easy to do with you staring at my cock and my come dripping down your creamy thighs.”

  “Try,” I insisted.

  “What you had with Jon wasn’t adult love,” he said gently. “I’m not saying it wasn’t real, I’m just saying at that age, life moved fast for you. You had a lot to handle with Jon, a business,
and Ram. In the thick of that you lost him, and you said you’ve never had a relationship since. I got married knowing it would be hell from start to finish. Until I saw that fuck on your floor, I had never tasted jealousy. Now that I have, I can say it tastes bitter. I can also say the odds are good it’s a taste I’ll come to know well, being that you’re fucking beautiful and men notice beauty. During my marriage, to make shit easier, I said I’m sorry and rarely meant it. I knew she cheated on me, but didn’t care enough to call her out on it. But I’m not that guy anymore, and you aren’t her. This is me manning up, saying I’m sorry that I allowed that bitter taste to touch you. I’m asking you to forgive me, and if you can do that, I can promise you it won’t happen again.”

  I blinked once, swallowed hard, smiled in happiness, then launched myself at him.

  The week that followed was eye-opening, hot as fuck, and frustrating as hell. Eye-opening, because for every minute I spent with Lizzy, I found out something new to love about her. The sex was off the charts, and no type of bed play was off the table. My woman liked to play with my ass, fuck rough, and if that wasn’t enough, when I took her slow, it was even better because she glowed beneath me. The frustration was Lincoln’s meddling ass always in her space, talking shit, and filling her head with nonsense. She doesn’t know I’m aware, of course, but it pisses me off that instead of smiling, she’s constantly defending me, us. Personally, I didn’t give a fuck if he liked me or not, but it bothered her. So, last night, I attempted a second peace offering and it did not go well.

  Then there was work. I was catching pressure from all sides. Somehow drugs were still being found in the cars that left her shop, but swear to Christ, there was no fucking way it was possible because I had eyes on it at all times. This got me thinking about Jon, and that I wasn’t so sure he was dead and buried. Outside of Lizzy, her guys, and Ram, no one had access to her garage.

  There were no drugs in her shop or on her property, so how the fuck did the cars recovered have drugs inside of them?

  I had to figure out where Iggy fit in and why he did. Lincoln, Benz, and Diesel were clean from what I could see. Lizzy was squeaky, and Ram was currently making me money in Tennessee.

  Keeping him away which kept him safe was easy. Finding the missing link, not so much.

  Because every vehicle the feds had recovered came from Hudson’s Garage.

  On the upside, staying with her was no hardship. Yes, she’s been pushing harder to crash with me, but I’ve dodged that bullet by giving her orgasms. I wasn't ready to explain my home to Lizzy anymore than she was prepared to see the hub for what it was. To show her now would ruin everything. It would expose my lies and she wasn't ready for the truth. Beyond that, I refused to jeopardize her case.

  A few hours ago, the paint dried on my Camaro and no sooner did it get parked out front, Iggy showed up with a new job. For a guy who knew Lizzy, loved Lizzy and her boy, the ice-cold treatment he gave to her new man put me on edge. He looked at me in a way that said he knew more than he should. My shit was solid, ironclad, so I told myself I was overreacting. That he didn’t know how to handle a man in her life yet.

  Giving her time to do her thing with him, I came upstairs to cook her dinner and go through her personal shit. This turned out to be a waste of time because Elizabeth Hudson had nothing to keep hidden. While the ribs boiled, I grabbed the picture of Jon out of her room. The photo for some reason bothered me. The one she spoke to the night I hurt her. I will say this, at twenty-one Jon was a big guy, good-looking, and very imposing. He also looked like a thug. Taking a photo with my phone, I reach below it to snag one of Lizzy, Jon, and Ram in her kitchen. Thug or not, this guy had loved his woman. He loved his boy, but he did some dumb shit that left them both alone and vulnerable.

  How I wished I had found her all those years ago. That way I could have raised Ram, had him calling me dad with Lizzy calling me husband.

  Elizabeth Temple.

  Fuck, how I wanted that.

  Taking the ribs from the pot, brushing them with sauce, and sliding them in the oven, I’d set the timer and grabbed a beer just as she walked inside. “Talked to Ram,” I said, grabbing her one, too. “He’s got a solid week in Tennessee then I’ll give him some time off.”

  “Time, I assume, he’ll want to spend with Destiny,” she smiled, shucking her coveralls. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “When you had the sex talk with Ram, what’d you say?”

  Grinning, she snagged a carrot, chewed it, and then said, “You mean after I had to undo all the shit the guys fed him? I told him that sex with a random girl could be fun. But I followed it up with saying that sex with someone you care about is everything. I explained about boundaries and hearing the things that aren’t said. I told him that having him young was not something I regretted, but having him become a dad in high school wasn’t what I saw for him. I asked that he wait until he’s ready and that when that time came to give me heads up so I could go buy him rubbers.”

  “How old was he when he asked for rubbers?”

  “Nineteen,” she beamed.

  “You went and got him rubbers, didn’t you?”

  “Of course!” she laughed. “And while I was gone, I made him watch a YouTube video of a live birth.”

  “Lizzy,” I roared with laughter. “That’s fucking classic.”

  “Thank you,” she bowed graciously.

  “Never used a rubber with you,” I pointed out. “Never even considered the alternative.”

  “Always used one until you, Luke. Even when I didn’t have reason to.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” she said, coming up on her toes to kiss me. “Even used them with Jon, but we were young and in the end, Ram was determined to be born.”

  “Glad he was, Lizzy.”

  “Me too.”

  “Grab a shower,” I said, swatting her ass. “I’ll set the table.”

  Rounding the corner, she was about to disappear from my view when she whispered, “I could get used to this.”

  And even from across the room, I could see the tears in her eyes.

  That night Luke fed me, fucked me slow, and we talked until the early hours of the morning. His mouth spent quality time between my legs and mine returned the favor. The next afternoon, he started subtly asking questions about Iggy and his business. Later, he would grill me more on Jon, a topic I did not want to keep revisiting and he’d get shitty when I shut down. The day following, he showed up at noon, brought lunch for all of us and again, subtly asked questions about the garage itself.

  Such as, when was it built. Did it have more than three points of entrance, and how many people had a key. When I asked why, he claimed it was for my safety, being that I lived alone.

  This I understood, kind of. I chalked it up to him being in security, and just as I assessed his Camaro he assessed my shop. When he asked me about the door built into the floor of the fourth bay, I explained there were actually two doors. One in the garage out back and the one in the shop. That a tunnel connected the two, and how I’d lost the key years ago. Since it was a pre-war building, and I never need access to the space, I never looked for the key. I further explained that the tunnel had freaked me out since I was old enough to understand fear. Even talking about it made me jumpy.

  Luckily, we moved on to other topics.

  We discussed future dinner plans, and like always, when I asked to dine at his place, he dodged me.

  Frustrated and not wanting to fight, I allowed him to steer the conversation back to Ram.

  The two of them spent more and more time together when Ram wasn’t working.

  And even though Ram was grown, listening to him talk about Luke and seeing him with Luke… It was like a kid meeting his idol.

  Or meeting the man he wanted to be the father he never had.

  It broke my heart because I chose not to
date, take a chance, my son never had this. And I won’t lie, I was scared of Ram losing Luke despite him being twenty-four years old.

  He loved him. Luke loved Ram.

  A loss was a loss and my son never had a true father figure.

  Not like this.

  Not like Luke.

  Which was why I had never gotten serious. Ram had lost his dad. Ram losing the man who, if things progressed, would take his dad’s place… the risk scared me. But seeing the two of them together…It made sense.

  It was natural, and it was right.

  For all of us.

  And since Ram’s relationship with Destiny was moving quickly, (quicker than mine), he made plans for us to meet next week. Which made me happy, extremely happy. So happy I was actually looking forward to grocery shopping. Preparing a home cooked meal wasn’t something I’d done in what felt like forever. Proof that I was excited was the hour I spent on Pinterest looking for ideas.

  Even with all these thoughts in my head, I was glad Ram approved of Luke and I being together, liking his mom had someone. Honestly? I liked it, too. No, not true, I more than liked it. I was positive I loved it, loved Luke, but I was too chickenshit to say it yet. Ram loved Luke and said as much. He got that from Jon because he was out going and wore his heart on his sleeve. Jon and Ram loved easily and effortlessly. Me? I had issues. Falling for Luke was scary enough. Falling for Luke while my hormones were staging a revolt made me extra cautious.

  Yesterday, Luke showed up with beer, bratwurst, and a shit ton of equipment. While I manned the grill, the guys helped him rig motion detectors on the floors. Even Lincoln kicked in, which settled my nerves. But really, I needed give Lincoln more credit. Because he was man enough to say if I trusted Luke, he would, too.