Smoldered

by Rachel Blaufeld

  I tasted a little pre-cum and kept my grip, using my tongue to lick the salty substance, begging for more.

  “Oh fuck, Nat, you’re so good to me,” Asher said, his head thrown back, the cords of his neck popping out.

  In the end, I was all he needed. We never saw that redheaded bitch after that night at the club. I was pretty sure Mike had a little private conversation with her that resulted in her leaving town. Buh-bye.

  With my mouth on Asher, I didn’t waste any more time thinking of Penelope. Instead I lost myself in the moment, hearing his voice call my name, feeling him shoot down the back of my throat, tasting all of him, drinking him in, finally knowing the man both inside and out. I reveled in the feeling of him pulling me close after we both came, and him whispering how much he loved me.

  We lay front to front, naked, each of us stroking the other’s back as we came down. Asher and I were eye to eye when I realized he was ready to go again. This was not uncommon. Neither was the way he made slow, leisurely love to me that night.

  Even when making love, he was still my one and only bad boy.

  Asher

  Four years later

  I DIDN’T even fucking laugh at myself kicking off my boots in the garage, tiptoeing in the house a little after three o’clock in the morning, trying my best to be quiet.

  Tiptoeing was serious business these days.

  As I stepped into the kitchen and quietly set my keys down, letting my eyes adjust to the dim light—the one left on just for me—I did smile.

  Fucking smiled at no one or nobody or nothing. Full-on grinned at absolutely zilch, other than the mass chaos spread through the house.

  As I surveyed the mess around me, taking in the pictures taped to the expensive-as-hell stainless fridge, righting a candy jar half-spilled on the counter, and out of the corner of my eye, catching a long line of forts and tunnels made from various quilts and blankets in front of the fireplace, I headed to my first stop. Feeling my way along the small village of tents, trying not to trip, I walked toward the small bar in the far corner of the great room and poured myself a scotch.

  Gently putting back the bottle, digesting my life spread all around me, I wouldn’t even dream of slamming the fucker back down on the counter.

  My freaking great life with a great room, where I act all docile and behaved. Ha.

  Even I couldn’t believe how perfect my world was turning out—perfectly fucking messy and crazy. And the messier it got, the better it felt.

  It wasn’t the lonely, isolated, negative, messy shit I knew growing up, but living large, ingesting each moment fully, breathing every second in, and taking big gulps each and every single time. Surrounded by people who loved me, who made a pretty huge mess everywhere they went.

  Knocking back my drink, I allowed my night at the Tunnel to travel all the way through my body. It washed through me before drifting into space, bringing me completely home. My new home dwarfed my old one, and that place was big as fuck. This joint was enormous, made my former digs look like a shack, and I grew up in a real piece of shit, so I’d know one.

  This house was the tits, cost me a pretty penny, and I couldn’t have cared less what kind of goopy or crazy disaster went down inside its four walls because my family made that shit. The family I never imagined having.

  I couldn’t put a price tag or a number on my wife and kids. As long as I had them, I was rich.

  But it helped that I was pretty loaded and could give them anything they wanted—materially.

  My heart was theirs for the taking. Any day, any time, always. No holds barred.

  But they would never know how hard I’d worked to be able to give that to them…and the soulless, open-ended emptiness that surrounded me before I had Nat all to myself.

  With Natalie in my life, I could give them my whole fucking heart. They would learn sooner than me that having people care about you meant way more than any money in the bank.

  It’s a good woman that makes a man complete, not how fat his bank account is.

  I stared down at my huge platinum watch, clocking the minutes I was wasting with my fucking grandiose daydreaming, watching the seconds tick down, each one marking a second I wasn’t between my wife’s legs.

  The expensive timepiece, a gift from Natalie, was something I never would have bought myself. Not because I skimped when it came to me; I did have a brand new smoking-hot bike and a shitload of designer motorcycle boots. But I had a family to feed and clothe, so I’d been forced to step up my business, and fucking A, I did.

  The Electric Tunnel brand was growing, known every-fucking-where, steadily bringing in more hard-core cash. And I had some other shit in the works. A new biz I hadn’t mentioned to my wife yet.

  Christ, Natalie was going to kill me when she found out, but I wanted to make sure it was right. No reason to show off anything if it was going to flop.

  Finishing my drink, I left my tumbler in the sink and made my way through the hall to the stairs, climbing two at a time to check on my family, eager to get to my wife, wondering what she was wearing in bed. Hoping for nothing, but thinking that wasn’t exactly possible.

  We did have a teen in the house.

  I’d take baggy sweats. Who the hell cared? Not me. I was going to lock the door and rip them straight off her curvy body.

  Reaching the top of the stairs, I stopped and enjoyed the wall of photos. There were fancy as all get-out staged portraits as well as candid shots. Everyone was there. Not just the flesh-and-blood family under my roof, but my Tunnel gang, especially Lila. Without her I’d be screwed, and never have my girl back.

  Glancing at the phone in my hand as it buzzed and glowed, I saw the e-mail report come in for the night at our Los Angeles club—the Electric Cove.

  My Lila was living the good life out in Cali with the man of her dreams, a beautiful son, and a girl on the way. Carson was having daily shit fits over raising a girl. Son of a bitch was going to put a GPS on her before she could even crawl.

  I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the thought and tried hard to stifle it, not wanting to wake anyone. I needed to have my wife at least twice before I knocked off for the night.

  The Cove was doing well. Along with Lila, Petey was a major stakeholder, and the joint was bankrolling money.

  God, Petey. Running my hand over his photo—the one where he was hanging with Quinn—I still couldn’t believe I had a fucking brother. Finally the dude was a constant in my world. Took me a while to accept him, but when I did, I realized I couldn’t live without him. Guilt rode his ass for the last few years, the stubborn man refusing to acknowledge the bond we had despite him deceiving me, but we fixed that.

  I might only make time to see my dad from time to time, a beer or two a few times a year, but I downright refused to lead a life without Pete being a player in it.

  At first, the little shit kept turning down my offers for business partnerships. Then Lila got knocked up and needed someone to help in Cali. Who better than my brother?

  She convinced him, of course. That girl was forever the peacemaker in my world.

  Now absolutely no one could touch the California club on the adult entertainment scene with Pete and Lila co-owning it. Our brand was unstoppable, mostly because we were a class act.

  And I’m going to make it even classier.

  Peeking inside the room at the top of the stairs, I continued to take in the further destruction of my house. Clothes, toys, little electronics were everywhere. Once again, I grinned for no reason.

  Skimming my hand down the wall, I quietly shut the blue bedroom’s door––a close match to the one I set up for Quinn at the old house but bigger––and caught a picture of Big Mike and me. Like two crazies, we had our arms slapped around each other’s backs with shit-eating grins at the opening of Miami’s Electric Wave. He was my main man from day one. We’d been through the ringer together, and he’d seen me at my worst. Fucking hell, I hoped my man was finding his own little slice of happiness, b
ecause he’d hit the bottom of the barrel for a while—right along with me.

  Our joint, the Wave, was also on its way to being unbeatable down in Florida, the same location where I would reveal the new biz. Yeah, I kept that ridiculous mansion down there. Bought it for the right price and let Mike live there. After all, he was instrumental in blowing the Miami club out of the water, along with my latest plans. Wouldn’t have either with anybody else.

  And I had a sweet place to stay when I headed east. Took Quinn with me a few times so we could escape the craziness of Vegas, just the two of us for some bonding.

  My phone lit up for a second time since I got home, letting me know the closing status at the Tunnel. Mike was back in town for a few days. He just flew into Sin City yesterday, leaving Petal to run the Wave, so he could fill in for me while I took my family on vacation.

  I needed it. They deserved it.

  I also guessed it was a big test for Petal. I knew she could run that place all by herself, but Mike had to be sure. She would be doing it more and more after we opened what we had started to call the Firefly.

  We had a trip planned for later today, and I couldn’t wait. The five of us were meeting Carson, Lila sporting a baby bump, and their son, Aston—named for yours truly—at the private airstrip in LA after the plane picked us up in Vegas. All of us were off to a huge villa in the Bahamas, the same one where we’d all stayed for Carson and Lila’s wedding.

  I fiddled with the alarm on my phone, setting it for a few hours later, making sure we didn’t miss our flight.

  That’s right, I did say the five of us. Natalie, Quinn, our twins Lillie and Parker, and me. Twins. Let’s just say, my bad boys were good swimmers, and after a small winter wedding in the Red Rock Desert, I made quick work of knocking Nat up again on the honeymoon. I didn’t mean to go for double the trouble, but it was definitely worth it.

  Now.

  I eased open the door to the pink bedroom—Lillie’s private domain. I was probably already as psycho as Carson was going to be, but my little lady was every bit as gorgeous as her mom at almost three years old. With shiny brown hair and silver eyes, she captured my heart with one little look.

  And I was never giving it back.

  Yep, I’m gonna lock her in her princess room forever.

  I couldn’t move from the doorway, peering into the room dimly lit by the pink crystal chandelier hanging from the hot pink ceiling. I was a goner when it came to both my girls. A prego Natalie was no one to mess with, especially carrying two babies at the same time and complaining she was as big as a house, but the outcome was so worth it.

  My babies were the most amazing creatures, and the whole experience was so fucking mystifying for me because I didn’t get to do it with my oldest son.

  As for my wife, the damn woman looked even better after giving birth to twins, which drove the women members at Fusion Fitness, the gym I bought for her, downright wild.

  After Natalie quit dancing, she began to mope around, wanting to do something other than sit around and wait for me. I got it. Quinn was making a lot of plans with friends at the time, and the woman had always been so independent, so I purchased a small high-end gym in the ’burbs. Natalie ran the place during her pregnancy, but now we have a manager that she oversees. She also teaches several fitness classes—many of them pulling from her dancing days—which I definitely don’t mind. Oh yeah.

  Seeing my wife in tight yoga pants, shaking her ass, was the best part of my day.

  Quinn, a boy on the verge of adolescence when the twins were born, surprised us by being pretty much unfazed by the change involved with having two little babies around.

  I stopped outside his room and just listened at the door; I didn’t dare open it. He was old enough for some space, but shit, I’d missed a lot of the good years with him. I wanted to go in, open up a couple of sodas, and just hang out. I spent every second I could with him, making up for the years I’d lost, and that little fucker was so smart. He was going to make me proud, go to college and all that shit, even though he planned to take over my clubs one day. He knew what I did for a living—he was old enough to get it—and he was damn proud, but still, he was getting out.

  That was why I got the Firefly thing going, something legit for him. I might not be a big-time CEO or doctor, but the Tunnel was mine and I did it. I made something bigger and better out of nothing, and I owned that, but still, Quinn was going to do something even grander, and I was going to put down the first bricks for that.

  My kid was going to be just fine out in the world, doing what his mom and I couldn’t do. That was what Natalie always wanted for him, and she deserved that.

  Lingering a few extra seconds outside his room, my body began to heat at the thought of his mom, asleep and all twisted in the sheets, in the room on the opposite end of the hall.

  And I knew just how I wanted to wake her.

  I did love talking with my son, though. He was mature beyond his years. Part of that was my fault because he had to be, but I spent a lot of time not letting that eat me alive and trying to move forward.

  Making my way down the hallway, careful to stay quiet on the hardwood floor, I felt my heart beat with pride. That kid was always coming up with plans and sound arguments. Like when the twins were born, he made his own decision to legally change his last name to mine. I was his dad, after all, and he didn’t want his birth certificate to say Quinn Parker anymore. Which was when he suggested the baby, now a little boy tucked in soundly in his blue bedroom, could be Parker Peterson, and he could finally be a real part of the family as Quinn Peterson.

  I hadn’t been able to hide my pussy tears that day. We went right to the lawyer and got it done. And now there were five Petersons.

  Smiling inside now, I quickly turned toward my final destination for the night, practically racing to our bedroom door.

  Without the woman sleeping in my bed, none of this would be possible. It took us a long while to find our little slice of heaven, but now we had it and I wasn’t ever letting go. Natalie always said she’d been in love with me her whole life, and I think I’d always felt the same—just not able to understand it.

  I was just a dumb man. Who was I to deserve being in love with a woman my whole freaking life?

  At one point, I thought what I needed for my life to go out with a big fucking bang was multiple women to fuck, money to burn, and booze to drink.

  Turned out, it was actually one woman who burned me up, helping my remaining years to smolder slowly.

  I took in the delicious sight in front of me of my woman fast asleep. Smiling to myself, I ran my gaze over her long, muscular legs peeking out from under the covers, the soft waves running through her brown hair, her skin all smooth and creamy in the faint light coming from the bedside lamp turned on low. I pulled off my shirt and slipped out of my jeans as I walked over to the bed, letting my clothes fall into a pile on the floor. I thought about taking a shower, but couldn’t wait.

  Maybe we would do that together after I got my wife all dirty?

  I slid onto the bed and gathered Natalie’s tiny frame in my arms, pulling her ass in toward my front, laying a kiss on her neck as I smoothed the hair away.

  “Mmm,” she mumbled.

  “Hey, doll,” I whispered.

  She rolled over and ran her hands down my sides, settling at my hips. Her thumbs grazed over the area, each one running back and forth on its respective side, causing chills to run down my spine. Me, the master of the threesome, the man who needed a three-ring circus to get off, had shivers from a thumb lightly touching me. My dick was instantly hard and at attention, poking its way over to where it wanted to be.

  “All good tonight while I was gone?”

  “Uh-huh. The twins are so excited to go away, and Quinn’s very worried about whether his phone will work in the Bahamas. I think there’s a girl, babe. A girl.” She pressed her hip bone forward, looking for what she wanted while we made small talk about our kids.

  It
was so freaking domestic, except I owned a strip club empire and Natalie taught pole dancing classes at the gym.

  “Well, I’ll talk to him.”

  We didn’t need any more words between the two of us. Our bodies took over, my mouth meeting hers, our tongues tangling while I reached my hand down and slipped a finger inside my wife, the only woman to ever fulfill me. Natalie’s head dropped back into the pillow as she worked herself on my hand, and another smile spread across my face as I watched my woman get some.

  I added another finger and pressed my thumb against the exact spot she needed, causing a shock wave to run through her. It ran like a lightning bolt through her body, traveling to mine.

  Using my free hand, I brought Natalie’s face back up to meet mine, kissing her, swallowing her moans, and riding her climax before I slipped something much better than my hand deep inside her. I moved slowly at first, taking my time, not rushing what was mine to have—forever.

  Read other books by Rachel Blaufeld

  Coming Spring/Summer 2015

  Mike

  Miami

  PULLING MY convertible out of the Wave’s lot at two o’clock in the morning, I turned my metallic-white baby toward the beach as the ocean waves slapped against the dark night. I told myself to go home, but knew I wouldn’t listen. Instead I did the same thing I’d done several nights a week for the last year.

  I headed for a drive.

  As much as I needed to clear my head, unwind, and allow Miami’s moist ocean breeze to wash over me, it wasn’t that type of drive.

  It was a mission. One I shouldn’t be on, definitely a self-appointed assignment I should drop. Immediately. I was a renegade on a journey to hell because my assignment would certainly only end in heartbreak and pain.

  Oh well. Fuck it.