Insta-Hubby

by Lauren Milson

  “What is it, baby girl?” he growls, yanking my hair, taking it in his fist.

  God, that always makes me so wet.

  “I want it. Give it to me.”

  “What is it, baby? You want my big cock to pound at your bad girl little pussy until you cum?”

  “Oh god, something like that,” I say, partially laughing, partially begging.

  He slowly kneels in front of me - he is still a big crazy tease, but then again he accuses me of the same thing - and tauntingly yanks his pants down, scratching the stubble on his cheek, that little cleft in his chin so freaking cute and sexy.

  And then he dives into me as he slips his arm around my back, cradling me, kissing me, and pushing deep inside me, making my lips spread open for me.

  And then he bites down on my bottom lip and pulls gently, and the fierce jolt of sweet pain hits my brain like a drug. It’s that little something extra that pushes me forward, and I just love the way he makes me feel.

  “I love you, Gabe,” I breathe against him, muttering into the air, pressing my lips against his.

  He crushes his mouth against mine as he takes my cheeks into his hands, caressing the sides of my face.

  He told me he loved me the first night we met. I told him he was crazy. I told him there was no way he could know that. That didn’t deter him from telling me it over and over, deep inside the walls of passion and in the long, dark corridor of mystery he pulled me into. My brain swam with questions and deep down inside, somewhere deeper than my gut, somewhere I still don’t know that I can unlock, I already knew it, too. I knew it from the moment he looked at me at the club.

  I remember how it felt when he brought the cold in with him that day. He was looking for something, and in some ways he found exactly what it was, and in some ways finding it wasn’t possible, and couldn’t have been possible, because he was looking for me all along, he’d told me, and he could never have imagined something as good as me. He told me it was the the precise combination of me and him together. The chemicals between us and the moment we shared, the confluence of factors that lead us together on that day behind the bars. We were both hiding something. He held the key to unlock everything. He just didn’t know where it would fit until he walked into that place he rescued me from.

  He said he was looking for a long, long time. He quit his job as a public servant because he wanted to find that ever-elusive thing, the thing that evaded his mom for so long because his dad had walked out on both of them, choosing to marry his assistant after having an affair. He told me he was sickened at how freaking cliche it was, at what a walking stereotype his father was.

  And then when his father passed, the money that landed in Gabe’s lap was like a joke; he’d told me that, too. He said he actually laughed when his father’s estate attorney called him. He didn’t even know his father was freaking loaded. He knew basically nothing about the man. He’d been a brilliant computer science professor at a large public university upstate, but Gabe never imagined a life in academia would bring his father the riches he ended up acquiring. Turns out, he didn’t either; he’d quit his job at the university to work on some tech start-up, and he’d struck gold.

  That’s when Gabe quit his job at the DA’s office, when he received that inheritance. The money came with a letter and a lesson; a letter from his father telling him not to waste his life. And although Gabe certainly did not want to take advice from a philanderer, he’d decided that the man happened to be right, and it was then that Gabe decided to invest the money on his own.

  He called it the ultimate irony. He called it a bittersweet lesson in the cruelty and humor of the universe. He told his mom that he wouldn’t waste a minute of his life toiling away in an office he didn’t care about, and he wouldn’t waste a penny of the money pursuing anything that did not matter.

  It’s only been in the last month that he sold his share of Club Skin and went back to work at the DA’s office.

  I almost never thing about my old life, the one in the massage parlor. The one where I was hanging off the edge of danger with just my little finger, not knowing that there were sharks circling just beneath my feet.

  Right now, I’m just enjoying reading and cooking every day. Taking bubble baths, as silly as I feel sometimes doing it. He’s kept me spoiled. I know I’ll have to get a job sooner or later because I’ll go crazy sitting at home, but for now I’m just enjoying some me time.

  When he told me he loved me, I didn’t have the depth of experience to understand that he could really mean it. But understanding wasn’t necessary. I could feel it on a visceral level, inside my body, inside my bones, in the way he looked at me, the feel of his touch against my skin.

  And it didn’t take me long to tell him it right back.

  “I love you too,” he says. I close my eyes and allow myself to be given over to him in every possible way.

  I feel like I’m dreaming.

  “Sweet Avery,” he growls, kissing my forehead, my lips, my neck, “you are still so perfect. So pure. So beautiful.”

  He pushes into me over and over, his hands roaming over my body reverently and with care and precision until I shudder under him.

  “Yes girl, make your pussy suck up every last drop of me,” he growls, and I become intoxicated, pushed over the edge as we cum together.

  The room hangs heavy in the silky blue evening and he showers me with kisses, and love, and everything I ever wanted but didn’t know where to look.

  I didn’t have to look. He found me anyway.

  He rolls away from me carefully, reaching over to pull the blankets over us.

  “Avery,” he starts, “I have to tell you something because I don’t want you to look at the news tomorrow and be surprised. I want to tell you before you hear it from somewhere else.”

  I feel a knot form inside my throat as my body heats, anxious energy suddenly pumping through me. But I try to push it away.

  “Gabe, what are you talking about?”

  He reaches for my face and pushes my messy hair behind my ears. My skin tingles at his touch.

  “I’m not really supposed to tell you this, but the DA’s office is handing down indictments tomorrow morning for the people who run the massage parlor. Apparently this thing goes pretty high up, and there’s some important people involved.”

  “W...what?” I ask, completely puzzled.

  I thought that place was so hidden, so shrouded. So off the grid

  “How?” I add.

  “The DA’s office has been building a case against them for a long time. And it’s not just political opportunism for once, either. I mean, granted, the head DA is looking for this to be a career-maker. He’s going to run for governor. But this is going to be a huge victory for the state. And for us.”

  “Gabe,” I start, the corners of my eyes prickling with tears, “that is wonderful news. I...part of me feels guilty for being able to get out. There are still girls there. So many girls still there.”

  “We are going to get them out of there,” he says, taking my face in his hands. “We are going to get them out of there.”

  “Are they going to get into trouble?” I ask, my heart thrumming. I feel frantic almost. Almost. But the look in his eyes tells me it is going to be okay.

  “No,” Gabe says surely. “They are survivors, not criminals. The arrests have already been made. All of the girls are going to have immunity. They are being offered counseling and services if they want them. And you did nothing wrong, my Avery. None of the girls did. You remember that.”

  I swallow thickly and press my face into the crook of his neck.

  “Gabe, how can I ever thank you?”

  He wraps me up, and I feel warm. And safe in his arms. And I feel everything good in this one moment.

  “Avery, I only need one thing from you. Only one thing in this world. Just be mine forever.”

  “I will,” I breathe as he kisses my forehead. “I will be yours forever.”

  THE END

>   Want more? Good, ‘cause there’s more. One more novella coming up.

  All the Way

  A Second Chance Holiday Romance

  Last Christmas, I let her slip away with my heart. But now she's barreled back into my life, and this time I'm not letting her go.

  I never expected to see Jess back in our hometown. She left to see what the big, bad world has to offer. I let her go because she's better than this place. I'm still here, living like an outcast and doing odd jobs between hitting the bottle.

  But when she stops to buy a tree in the middle of a blizzard and I happen to be the seller, I know I have to give her the best tree this side of the Hudson River.

  I haven't stopped thinking about her since we said goodbye. And now she's even more enrapturing than I remember. Her wit is like a firecracker and her body is perfection.

  This year, I have to make her mine for good.

  This Christmas, we're going all the way.

  All The Way is a steamy standalone novella with no cliffhanger, no cheating, and an HEA

  Prologue

  Chris - One Year Ago

  My fingertips paint a trail of warmth against her cheek as I pull her close. The mix tape I made for her last year is playing softly inside the cab of her truck, me and her in the back at the end of the tarmac. A plane roars overhead and I almost mistake it for a shooting star.

  “You’re going to love it.” My fingertips dig into the flesh on her hip as she rolls over and puts an arm around me.

  “I know,” she says. “I’m going to miss you, though. But you already know that.”

  She’s bigger than this town. She’s larger than life. I can’t tell her to stay with me. I can’t keep her from the big, bad world out there. She wants out, and I’d be a selfish prick if I told her to stay here. Letting her go is the biggest sacrifice I’ve had to make, but I can’t let her stay for me.

  I sit up and pull her onto my lap, nuzzling into her neck and kissing her jawline where her ear meets her hair. She’s never been as beautiful as she is tonight, and it’s a damn shame that we have to say goodbye.

  Lights glow overhead, but no one can see us. We’re hidden out in the open. I pull our blanket around her shoulders and wrap her up in my arms.

  “How about a kiss?” I say softly into her ear, pulling her closer, her knees on either side of my lap.

  Her face falls forward onto my chest and she moves against my body, warm and soft to my hardness. I dip my hand between us and move between her legs.

  “I’m going to miss you.” Her eyes flash open. She could illuminate the whole fucking world with those blue eyes. I lean down and forward to catch her mouth with mine, her lips parting to take my kiss.

  “I want more of you,” I say. “And I always will.”

  “I’ll be back, Chris,” she says. “We’ll see each other again soon.”

  I know she means it, but her words put distance between us. And soon there will be thousands of miles between us, too.

  But for tonight, I hold her close.

  Jess

  This one goes out to all you lovers out there this Christmas.

  I click the dial all the way to the left and shut off the radio. There’s already too much buzzing in my head, and I don’t need more. I start to back down my driveway when my truck stalls. I turn the key again and try to get the engine to turn over. The cold weather, plus the snow, plus the fact that I haven’t used my truck in over a year has the stupid thing stalling constantly.

  “It’s okay, Maddie. I’m sorry I called you stupid. But please, please turn on,” I plead with my old truck. The windows inside are starting to fog up, and I rub the windshield with my mittened hand and try to wipe away some of the cold.

  “Come on baby, let’s go!” I pump my fists in the air as she finally turns on. “There’s my trusty old girl.”

  I turn the radio on again, and it’s Christmas song after Christmas song on every radio station. That’s fitting, since it’s Christmas Eve and everyone wants to hear festive music right now.

  But not me. I root around in the back of my truck and dig past my old textbooks piled up in a box, finally finding the old mixtape I’m looking for.

  “Ah, the glory of college,” I mumble. The warm days during summer break. The cold days when the air would turn our breath to steam. I turn the cassette over in my hands. I still can’t believe Chris made this for me. But he was always a little bit of a romantic, a little old school, and the tape was all part of that. Part of him.

  I slip it into the tape player and turn up the volume, not bothering to rewind to the beginning. Instead, I want to listen from where I left off last time.

  It’s an old favorite of ours, something by the emo band Brand New, but I can’t remember the name of the song. I shift my old truck into drive as the song picks up speed. It still sounds great, even on the old, busted-out speakers.

  All I need right now is to go for a ride, and I say a silent thank you to whoever is watching over me and made my car start up. Maybe it’s my granddad. I inherited the truck from him when I was barely able to legally drive, and I’ll bet he’s still watching down from somewhere.

  I continue to back out of the driveway and think about how nothing’s changed in this town as I pull out to the snowy, quiet rural street. The tires crunch over the combination of snow, ice, and rock salt, and I turn up the radio as my taillights sweep over a large pile of snow.

  I don’t come back home as much as I should. I started to miss the winter of the Northeast after staying away in California for the whole semester, where I go to grad school for molecular biology. I want to work in a lab and eventually work at a university, researching treatments for diseases.

  Either that, or working with animals. I’ve just been accepted to the veterinary medicine program at one of the schools near my hometown, and I’m on the fence about transferring.

  I come to the corner and stop for a deer. Not many of those where I live now, unless you count all the girls in Hollywood who wear sky-high shoes. They kind of walk like deer. But not me. I wish I could, but I’ve never gotten the hang of walking in heels.

  I drive the truck up to a little hill. Annoyed at myself, I remember how slippery this hill gets, and I wish I’d gone another way. I hit the gas pedal to the floor, and miraculously, I make it up and over with minimum sliding. My heart’s in my throat, and I realize I haven’t been breathing as I finally exhale a big breath. I say a silent thank you to granddad and turn onto the main road in town.

  All I needed was a little drive to get out of the house for a few minutes. I used the fact that I wanted to go pick up some pastries as an excuse, and I think my sister Jamie was the only one who knew I really just needed to get away from it all for a few minutes.

  I’m glad I came home this year, but we don’t really do much celebrating any more. When granddad passed away a few years ago, we stopped putting up a tree. It all seemed a little silly to celebrate with him gone. And there would be no fun in it. He used to sit on his favorite chair and instruct us grandkids on where to place the ornaments, pointing out any gaps or where we could use another green or red ball. It just wasn’t the same without him.

  He was always special to me. He raised my mom on his own, so he was like a super dad to her, which made him a super granddad to me, my brother and sister.

  I even suggested putting up a tree this year, because I thought he would want us to, but no one felt like it.

  But delicious baked treats? That’s something everyone can agree on.

  The mix tape ends as I drive up to the bakery. I reluctantly cut the engine off, afraid that I won’t be able to start her back up again. But I have no choice, because the scent of warm sugar, cinnamon and vanilla is filling up my truck, and I hop out quickly, heading straight to the door of the bakery.

  “Hey, you!” my best friend Kaitlyn says, coming out from behind the counter to wrap me up in a warm, sugar-scented embrace. “When did you get back in town?”

  I grin a
t her, so thrilled to see one of my oldest friends.

  “Just got in this afternoon. It’s so different in California. I didn’t wear my coat onto the plane, but I had to wear it when I got out of the airport here.” I walk over to the display case where she’s got every fabulous type of cookie and pastry on display.

  “I hope they have Italian bakeries in LA, but even if they don’t I’ve got you covered, missy.” Kaitlyn goes around to the back of the counter and disappears, ducking down to put an assortment into a large white box. “And you look cold. I’m making you an espresso.”

  “That sounds amazing right about now,” I say, pulling off my hat and sinking down into one of the booths along one wall. “I’ll tell you, everything in California is different. I can’t find a good bagel. The coffee is okay, but overall the food is so different from here.”

  Kaitlyn laughs and pops up from behind the counter, measuring a length of red and white bakery string and wrapping up my box with care. “I think what you’re missing is the dirty water dogs and soft pretzels from the city.”

  While Kaitlyn busies herself with the espresso machine, I gaze out the window to the street outside. The snow is starting to fall harder, and there aren’t many people out. Just a few people in the liquor store across the street, and in the mini-mart of the gas station. People are probably picking up a few last-minute items and getting ready to go home to their families to have their Christmas Eve supper.

  “Honey, you look distracted,” Kaitlyn says, sliding into the booth across from me with two steamy-hot espressos in pretty white mugs. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “You know how granddad passed away four years ago,” I say, blowing on the edge of my mug.

  “Damn. It’s been that long?” Kaitlyn asks, flicking at a few sugar packets and stirring them into her drink.

  “Yeah. It’s just a hard time of year for everyone. And, on top of everything, I’m thinking of Chris a little bit right now.” I put my hands over my face and peek at her through the crack between two of my fingers. “You mad at me?”