by Eden Connor
"I didn't lie!" she cried when he stepped back.
"Did I say you lied?" he replied, smoothing his hand over one butt cheek.
God help her, she was scared and yet she felt herself growing wet as he stroked her. What has he done to me? The beads in her hair clacked together when she shook her head.
"I do like that sound," he admitted. "I can't explain why, but I love hearing it."
"Mm-maybe Georgia wore them?" she guessed. "When you were small? Maybe the sound reminds you of the time when Cammie was here." The style wasn't a new one, after all. Black women had been braiding their hair with beads for centuries.
"You might be right." His fingers traced her slit. She could see his hand between her thighs by looking in the mirror. "Cynda, you're awfully wet."
Her nipples were hard. So hard they touched the glass, which was cold from the air being forced from the vent in the ceiling above her head. What was it about the way he restrained her that made her body go crazy at his first touch?
"What's Kingsley Dazza lying about, Cynda? I know he was lying. I just don't know what part of his story is bullshit. Yet."
"He did look 'bout as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs," she agreed, her eyes drifting closed as his finger pierced her. "All I know is he wants some of your land. He said he'd… he'd pay me if I helped him talk you into selling it."
The sting of his hand coming down on her ass jolted her. "That's a lie from you. You said you worked for Brian Case Development. This deal's far too small for Brian Case to dirty his hands with." His thrusts picked up speed, hard penetrations which underscored his displeasure.
"No, Daniel, I never said that. I don't know Brian Case. You assumed he'd sent me, but King drove me out here. It was his idea for me to wear that collar and leash, too. I swear that's the truth."
"Cynda." He added another finger, stretching her. "Why the hell would he give you nineteen thousand dollars to help him close a deal worth only thirty-five thousand? His offer was a fair one. That's probably the worst five acres I own. There aren't any valuable minerals to mine. Even if there were, five acres isn't sufficient for mining. Try as I might, I can't think of any other reason to want that exact piece of property. The ravine's deep and it runs right across the middle of that little plot. Don't play me."
"That's the truth." The sternness in his tone made her open her eyes. In the mirror, she saw how dilated her eyes were and watching his hand move between her thighs only drove her higher. Suddenly she felt pressure. He drove his thumb into her ass.
"Oh, Lord, yes, Daniel." She moaned, pushing back toward his hand.
His teeth raked the curve of her ass and when he bit down, she felt the first threads unraveling in the mantle of his control. She had to push him; she needed more. The columns running down the sides on the old piece rested on wide bases. Open bins holding umbrellas and golf clubs jutted out from each thick base. She grasped the hooks more tightly, raising her foot to test the width of the pylon, thinking if she could step onto those, it would raise her body, taking the pressure off her toes and arms. She thought she could do it. She raised her other foot.
He shifted his fingers, driving the middle two into her pussy, grasping her as he might a bowling ball.
"Where do you think you're going?"
She was worse off now than she had been. The delicious finger-fuck stopped. She lowered her foot and stood very still.
With his free hand he began to spank her. Each controlled blow pierced her with heat. His hands were so large, each strike felt like it covered her entire cheek. He moved lower, to the more sensitive skin below her buttocks. Those blows hurt, but the reward was that they seemed to send lighting into her core. She couldn't suppress her cries. She could barely wait for him to take her down and fuck her, but she had no choice. He'd do this in his time.
"You like this." His voice sounded ragged.
"Yes, Daniel." Their gazes locked in the mirror. The turbulence in his eyes suggested she wouldn't have to stand on this piece of furniture much longer.
"Uncle Dan! Uncle Dan! Guess what?"
Their eyes rounded simultaneously and Cynda wondered murderously whether his back door had a lock.
"Stop right there, Jonah. Do not take another step. I'll be right with you." Dan barked.
Daisy began to whine with excitement and Cynda wanted to cry, her frustration escalating when he pulled his fingers out of her. Covering her with his body, he leaned against her when he reached to fumble with one bucklee felt him chuckle. It vibrated through his chest, pressed against her back. He freed one hand and she balled it into a fist, driving it lightly into his side. "Don't you ever lock the door?" she whispered harshly.
"Never had a need to before, but after the last twenty-four hours, I'm thinking I might nail the damn thing shut." His lips were warm when he pressed them to her shoulder. He reached to unfasten the other belt. "You keep thinking about what you need to tell me. I wonder whether Jonah will notice I could punch through a steel plate with my dick."
"How old is he?" she asked, rubbing her wrists.
"Thirteen," Daniel replied. His lips were very close to her ear. His warm breath sent shivers down her spine. Her pussy was throbbing for attention.
"He should be able to sympathize."
Dan stepped back, grasping her waist to lower her to the floor. Pain shot up her legs as her toes protested their abuse, but she snatched her dress from the hook and stepped into it. She was very aware of the way her juices coated her thighs.
"Lift your hair," he ordered quietly, "and turn around."
"Uncle Dan!"
"There's cobbler in the fridge," he called. "Be right there. Help yourself to some."
Obediently she turned, her heart hammering wildly. The child was less than ten feet away. Her nervousness eased a bit when she heard the soft "pop" of the refrigerator door. In one second, he'd do her zipper and she'd be decent if the child came out into the wide hall.
Or not. His hands slid around her ribs to cup her breasts. He pinched her nipples and rolled them between his fingers, causing her juices to flow again. She felt his hardness pressed against her ass. She felt more than heard him chuckle again, the sound rumbling into her through his chest to vibrate between her legs. He released her nipples after a final hard tweak, then zipped her dress. The rasp of the older metal device sounded loud in the quiet house. She felt him move away more than she heard him do it. It was starting to seem as though every inch of her skin registered his nearness… or his absence.
"How you doin', kiddo?" Daniel said, turning to step through the arch.
Cynda took a deep breath before she walked into the kitchen. The young boy held the casserole dish containing the cobbler, peeking under the foil. He didn't respond to Daniel's greeting. His dark hair hung well below his collar, similar in length to Eric's. He began to dance a bit, making Cynda smile, but Daniel was frowning.
"Jonah!" Daniel clapped his hands together loudly, startling both the young boy and Cynda. He whirled to face them, and they could see small cords coming from his shirt pocket that led to his ears.
Cynda offered a silent prayer of thanks that it seemed no man in this family could pass a refrigerator without checking out the contents. The kid pulled one earplug loose.
"Hey, Dan! Guess what?" He caught sight of her, and smiled. "You must be Cynda. Thank God you're here. Lila was so happy to hear Dan had a girlfriend she forgot I was on restriction."
"Cynda, this is my nephew Jonah," Dan interjected. His hand moved to rest on her lower back. "As you can tell, he's shy. Jonah, this is Miss Avery."
"Aww, why can't I call her Cynda like everybody else?" Jonah complained. "School starts in a few days. I'm going to be saying 'Miss This' and 'Miss That' a bunch."
"Cynda's a teacher, too," Dan responded. "And this is the South, son, where you don't call a woman older than you by her first name unless she gives you permission."
The young boy looked at Cynda with a plea in his
green eyes. "Do you have a copy of this Southern Boy rule book? It's gotta be bigger than the encyclopedia and I can't find it online." He adopted a more formal tone after a heavy sigh. "Nice meeting you, Miss Avery. What grade do you teach, ma'am?"
"I handle the milk and cookies brigade." Cynda smiled at the kid, chuckling at his joke. "If you need help learning to tie your shoes or memorizing your ABC flashcards, I'm your girl. And please, call me Cynda." Deciding to pick on him a bit, she added, "What did you say to get on restriction? I've been wondering."
Jonah sat the bowl down and huffed. He eyed Dan plaintively. "I don't get it. If a girl has a nice rack, why can't I say so, Uncle Dan? It wasn't like she was standing there, you know? Lila asked me what I like best about Myrtle Beach, so I told her."
Cynda felt Daniel shaking with laughter, but he covered it by rubbing his hand over his jaw.
"There's rule in that book somewhere that says you can't talk about a woman's girlie parts without also describing her eyes in great detail and still be a southern gentleman," she explained.
"Huh," the kid said, appearing to think that over. "Wish I'd known that last night. I could've just told Lila her eyes were blue and gotten out of being chained to my desk to match a butt load of socks." He reached to open a drawer.
Daniel dropped his hand from around Cynda's waist, darting around the bar awfully fast for a man his size. "Let me get that for you, kid."
Desk.
"Oh Lord, Daniel, I keep forgetting to ask if you knew about those diaries of your mother's? I found 'em when the side panel fell off of your desk the other day," she blurted before she forgot again.
"Cynda, my mother didn't keep a diary." Daniel handed Jonah a spoon and moved to block the drawer concealing the toy cock with his big body.
"Sure she did," Cynda replied. "There's a bunch of 'em."
"Ooh, let's go read 'em," Jonah said, his green eyes alight with excitement. "This is better than my news that Lila's gonna coach my fall baseball team." He drilled a finger into Dan's side, laughing. "Dan, you'll never believe who's supposed to be her assistant coach. Uncle Colton's still cracking up."
"Must be Reggie," Daniel guessed, taking the casserole dish from Jonah's hand. Jonah nodded emphatically, still laughing uproariously. "Karma's a bitch, huh, kid?"
"You're not gonna read 'em," Cynda interjected, shaking her head fiercely, fearing Daniel might allow that. "It'd be wildly inappropriate for a young man your age to read a woman's private thoughts about her husband, even if they are your grandparents. Me and you are gonna listen to that music of yours while your uncle reads 'em. Can you dance?"
She glanced at Daniel to be sure he wasn't angry she'd made the prohibition, but men could be stupid about such. She didn't read anger in his face, but for a moment, he sure looked a lot like the ugly stuffed bass over his desk.
Chapter Twelve
When they all trooped into his office, Dan stood beside the desk panel she'd said had fallen, hesitating, watching Cynda put one of Jonah's ear buds in her ear. She began to sway, grabbing Jonah by the arms. Jonah might not be the only one who shouldn't read Cammie's innermost thoughts about Rafe. Dan both feared and longed to know what the diaries might contain.
Would his mother admit to the lover Dan had come to believe she'd had? What if something Cammie had written made him suspect one or more of them might not be Rafe's children? What if he wasn't Rafe's son? Could any of that be worse than learning Cammie had left his father because Rafe was exactly the kind of man Daniel felt himself to be? The kind who didn't hesitate to spank his wife if he felt she'd lied? Dan knew he was nothing like Colton, who seemed content to swim in the stormy hormonal waters that swirled around Lila with a sense of calm acceptance Dan couldn't comprehend. He privately agreed with the sentiment Eric had expressed last night, coming in the door. It was Eric's sense of timing Dan had felt was off, not the underlying dynamic. Colton should've bent Lila over a table and fucked her into submission about her driving long before she'd had that wreck, like the minute she'd called him a cocksucking liar in front of his brother. Had Lila been his woman, Dan knew she'd never have made it out the door before finding her legs in the air and him between her thighs. He'd not have given much thought to the fact his brother was in the room, either.
Dan knew he was the real caveman in this bunch. Not Eric. So instead of prying the side off his desk, he watched as the pair writhed to music he couldn't hear, torn between grinning and growling when he noted Jonah's dazed expression and the admiring glance the teenager gave Cynda's ass when she turned around to bump against the kid.
Luckily, the song ended before he had to shed blood.
"Cynda Sue, how do you do?" Jonah crowed. Then the kid blushed and he grinned shyly. "Sorry. All the way to the beach and back, Uncle Eric had Johnny Cash cranked up. Guess I got a toxic dose." The teenager smiled at Cynda again.
"Where'd a white boy like you learn to dance like that?" Cynda asked breathlessly.
"California. Where'd you get a fine booty like that, Cynda Sue?" Jonah waggled his brows up and down, leering at Cynda.
Yep, he'd had a toxic dose of Eric all right.
Cynda smiled back at the kid, shaking the body part under discussion. Dan's hand fairly itched to smack her ass for that. He really disliked her doing that for another man, even if that man was only thirteen.
"Wait till I tell Lila you evaluated a lady's girlie parts less than five minutes after you met her, right to her face." Dan smiled internally at the way the flush drained from the kid's cheeks.
"But she has such pretty brown eyes," Jonah protested.
"Who's Reggie?" Cynda asked, making Dan suspect she was deflecting his anger from the kid. Making him surer Cammie had done that for him and his siblings with Rafe. Yet Cynda's protective attitude toward a child she'd just met made Dan feel oddly more drawn to her.
"He's the reason I don't turn Jonah over my knee and paddle his ass for what he's thinkin' right now. Last man who hurt Jonah was Reggie and he's still got the scars from Lila's teeth in his ass. His baseball coach overworked his arm last season. Jonah tore a rotator cuff, thanks to Reggie."
Cynda looked from him to Jonah, frowning. "Is Lila your mama? She sure sounds like your mama, but you look just like Daniel or Colton."
Jonah shook his head, but his grin got bigger. "She's Charlie's momma, but she's gonna be mine, as soon as she and Uncle C get married. I heard her say she was gonna adopt me and Uncle Colton is too."
Married. "They must have made up if they're talking about getting married." Dan smiled, yet his heart ached for the couple. Had Colton brought up marriage as a way to get Lila insured? Would Lila talk about getting married if she had breast cancer?
Jonah lost his smile. "No, she was talkin' to her friend Amy. She's still mad at Uncle C, but we don't know why. I didn't overhear that part."
"Why do you need adoptin'?" Cynda asked.
"My momma's dead," Jonah explained.
"Mine too. My grams raised me. Which one's your daddy?" Cynda persisted.
"My sister never saw fit to tell anybody who he was," Dan explained, finally kneeling beside his desk, but still watching the pair. Stalling.
"Oh." Cynda's eyes grew wide. "Then Sarah must be your mom, right?" She smiled at Jonah. "You look just like the rest of the family, but you must have your daddy's eyes."
Dan must've frowned as he tried to recall if he'd ever mentioned Sarah to Cynda because she rushed to explain. "Her name was engraved in a locket in the trunk where you sent me to look for clothes. And in Cammie's diary, she mentioned Sarah had just been born."
"My momma got murdered and my grandma ran away," Jonah contributed to the pile of woe. "Uncle E says women never stick in this family. Do you think he's right, Uncle Dan?"
"Women stick to the men who stick to them," Cynda declared, reaching out to push Jonah's long hair out of his eyes. "If she can find one worth sticking to, that is."
That's the problem, Dan thought, looking away from the motherly
gesture he'd seen Lila make so many times. Men and women these days had vastly different ideas on what was worth sticking to, it seemed. Dan wanted a woman who wanted to make him a home and give him a family—not so hard to find. But he also wanted one who'd want nothing more than to stay home to raise those children. Yet everywhere he looked, he saw women putting a desire for material things over staying home to raise their kid and accepting the lifestyle their man could afford. At least that was his take on things. He knew for a fact there were more day care centers than ever popping up around town.
He was worse than a caveman. He was a dinosaur, destined to become extinct because there didn't seem to be any female dinosaurs left.
"So, did you read those diaries, Cynda?" Jonah asked as Dan hooked his fingers around the edges of the panel and gave it a yank.
"I just read the last entry she made in 1984, before she left. She thought she was expectin' again and was going to talk to Georgia about it." Dan glanced over to see her looking anxiously at him as he laid the panel on the carpet. "The vacuum got away from me. I don't think I hurt the desk, though."
"No, you didn't. The desk is fine, Cynda." Dan set the panel aside and peered into the desk with the flashlight he'd brought along, spying the journals. He could only get two fingers into the tiny slot, but that was enough to grasp the closest diary. "I never could figure out who she left with, but I always thought she left with someone. No one else we knew left town, though. She didn't buy a bus or plane ticket, according to my dad." He gave Cynda a reassuring smile. "Thank you for finding these. I never knew she kept a diary. Neither did Rafe. There must be answers in here."
