by Shyla Colt
His dry delivery makes me laugh harder than I should.
“Laugh it up. I hope when you and Quinn procreate you get molly whopped with multiples, too.”
“No way, dude, it doesn’t run in my family.” The thought of mini Quinns makes me grin.
“Damn, I thought you would balk at that.”
“No, I’m very okay with that. I’m shocked you said it.”
“I know you. When you really want something, nothing stops you, and I’ve never seen you like this about another woman. It’s only a matter of time before you guys make things official.”
“I hope you’re right. I’m meeting the family officially tomorrow for her dad’s birthday party at their house.”
“Good luck with that one. I’d stick to pregnant Liv over the meet the parents routine.”
“Yeah, me too,” I grumble as I finish off my lunch thoughtfully.
QUINN
My family is unique, to say the least. Dad is a psychologist married to an artist. It’s an interesting but well-balanced environment.
Ollie straightens the collar of his button-up. “Are you nervous?”
“Maybe a little.”
“Dude, you got the ultimate in. You saved my life.”
He snickers. “Really?”
I playfully punch his shoulder. “Shut up, corny or not it’s true. They’ve wanted to meet you long before this. I kept them at bay. My family is ... a lot.”
“You don’t say.” He widens his eyes, and I shove him playfully as we head up the walkway toward the two-story candy home where I grew up. The colorful flower beds and artistic sculptures carefully placed around the perfectly manicured lawn are the perfect representation of my parents. Organization with a creative flair. The door opens before we can knock and I laugh as my mother pulls Ollie into a huge hug. His eyes nearly bug out of his head with shock.
“Did I forget to mention we’re huggers?” I ask.
My father chuckles. “You set that boy up, didn’t you, sugarplum?”
“Maybe a little bit.” I walk around them and hug my Dad. “Hi, Daddy.”
My mother moves back, and I hug her as my father shakes Ollie’s hand.
“I want to thank you for what you did for our daughter.”
“I did what anyone would do, sir,” Ollie says.
“Call me Peter, son.”
“Let him in. Others want to meet him, too,” Riley calls.
I sigh as we move into the house. And the insanity begins.
I close the door behind me and watch, amused, as he’s accosted and grilled by Riley. Calling my sister overprotective is like calling turquoise a little blue. After the mess that was me and my ex, I can’t blame her. I spent nearly six years putting up with that loser, and I hid the worst of his behavior from everyone because I was embarrassed and young. I thought things would get better, and maybe this was what it meant to be in a committed relationship. It was when he made like he was going to hit me I snapped out of it less than eight months before I slated marriage. I’m chilled to the bone imagining what the hell being wed to a man like him would’ve been like.
“Why don’t we head out back? Dad’s been working on barbecue all day.”
“Oh, did you smoke some brisket, Daddy?” I ask as my mouth begins to water.
“You know I did. And your mom made her potato salad.”
“Hey, I made baked beans and Spanish corn,” Riley said.
“Can we skip talking and move to eating?” I ask only half joking.
“What? No? We have the yard games set out.”
“Wait, yard games?”
I roll my eyes. Why did you have to ask that?
“Yes, we have an old set of lawn darts, Yahtzee, and Jenga. I decorate those pieces myself.”
“What? That’s awesome.” His exclamation makes me laugh.
“Don’t forget about the corn hole,” Dad adds.
Ollie glances over his shoulder at me, and I laugh. He’s like a small child right now.
“Go.” I make a shooing gesture, and he moves to the other side of the backyard with my mom and dad.
“You didn’t tell me how sexy he was,” Riley says, punching my arm once the three of them are out of range.
I laugh. “Ouch. He’s pretty good looking, isn’t he?”
“Please. You knew he was.”
“He’s gotten a lot buffer since we first met. It’s all the PT.”
“I approve. A man that would give up his life for someone he doesn’t know, loves hard. You deserve that kind of devotion because it’s the only way you know how to love, with your whole being.”
I glance away. “We’ll see how it goes.”
“Are you playing it cool for me or you?” Riley asks.
“Both. It’s all happening so fast. I love him. We’re living together, and I can’t see going back to being on my own.”
“Wait a minute, what?”
“I haven’t felt safe since we agreed to testify against the robber we identified at the police station, so I’ve been crashing, and it’s the most ... normal thing in the world. I’m not annoyed or feeling caged in. He’s everything I could ask for in a man. I think he’s the one, Riley.”
“Holy shit. You’re serious?”
“As a heart attack. His little boy, Roland, is adorable. Rolly and I are fast becoming buddies, and I want to see him grow up.”
“That’s a big commitment.”
“I know. I keep telling myself to give it more time, but I know my feelings won’t change. His problems are mine and mine are his. I’ve never experienced this level of togetherness before. I didn’t think I could. After everything that happened with Joel, it was all about being on my own and remaining independent. I pushed away men who would’ve been a good fit because I didn’t want to give over control. With Ollie, it’s a compromise instead of a surrender. We find ways to meet in the middle, and talk it out. It’s not always easy, but it’s worth it.”
“Baby sister is in love.”
“I am.” It feels good to say to someone other than Ollie.
“Then I’ll welcome him with open arms,” Riley said.
“Thanks, big sister.”
“Anytime. Besides, you’ll need me once he meets Maximums.”
I groan. “Don’t remind me.”
“Come on, let’s join them. There’s no telling what Dad is asking him or Mom is telling him.”
“God, you’re right.” We rush toward them, giggling as we break out into a run and race one another like we used to do as kids.
“How did I do?” Ollie asks as we leave the house late that night.
“Passed with flying colors. I think my parents are ready to adopt you,” I say.
“They’re really cool. Your family is a good time, Quinn. I’m not shocked they raised such an amazing daughter.”
“Yeah, Riley is cool.”
“What?” He scoops me up and spins me around as I laugh. When he sets me on my feet, I loop my arms around his neck and pull his head down. I lean against the car as he cages me in with his arms. The bulge pressed against my belly makes me whimper.
“We should get home. It’s the last night we have the house to ourselves, which means you’re free to scream as loud as you want.”
“Only if you work for it.” I nip his bottom lip and press my palms to his chest.
He growls. The guttural sound sends butterflies flitting in my stomach.
“Be careful what you ask for, sassy.”
“Or what?”
“I’m going to have to own your ass and remind you who you belong to.”
My panties grow damp. “You think you could do it, big boy?”
“Oh, we both know I can.”
“I might need you to refresh my memory.”
His nostrils flare. “Get in the truck.”
I shudder as I rush to comply. Inside the car, I buckle in and grip the edge of my seat. The games are about to begin.
He pulls out of the driveway, and I l
ick my lips. Nervous energy has me fidgeting in my seat. Once we’re off the street, he reaches across the center console and caresses my knee. My heart skips a beat and the muscles in my belly jerk. He trails his fingers up, pushing my skirt to the tops of my thighs. Warmth spreads with every caress of his fingertips.
“Funny, you’re quiet now. Where’s all that yak you were spitting earlier?”
I lick my lips. “I’m saving it for you when you show me something.”
We brake for a red light, and he slaps my pussy. I gasp and jerk in my seat.
“Is that what you were expecting?” He delivers three more blows that have me spreading my legs as wide as I can and rolling my hips.
“Greenlight.” The humor in his voice as he returns his attention to driving would irritate me if I wasn’t a quivering mass of need. My panties are soaked, and a throbbing pulse is beating in my core.
“If you want something you have to tell me. You know how it works.” He wants me to ask him. I bite my tongue. “No? You don’t want me to play with your kitty? You must not be wet enough. I’m not doing my job properly then, huh?” He slips his hand under my skirt and traces the crease where my leg meets my hips. The whisper soft touch is torturous. He moves up and runs his fingers over the top of the band of my panties. My breathing is shallow, and my resolve is slipping. He runs his knuckles over my center, and I crumble.
“Please.”
“Please what, sassy?”
“Touch me.”
“I am.” He massages my inner thigh.
“My pussy. Touch my pussy.”
“All you had to do was ask, pretty girl,” he says huskily. He slips his hand inside my panties and circles my clit. The relief thrusts me back in my seat like a plane taking off.
“Yesss. Right there, Ollie.”
“Here?” He adds pressure and rubs faster.
“Oooh yeah.” My body shakes and I bite my lip. So close.
“Stop sign.”
He removes his hand, and I cry out, as my body is denied the last stroke it would take to set me off.
“Don’t you dare touch yourself.”
Gritting my teeth, I press my thighs together to relieve the intense ache.
“Not that either. Legs open.”
I whimper as I lose the friction and spread my legs wide.
“Good girl. I promise you it’ll be worth it.” His voice is downright devilish. He knows what he’s doing and that yes, he can back up the talk. So I’ll play by his rules to get the reward. I’ve never known this level of intensity before. My arousal fades slightly, and his fingers return, circling, flicking, and driving me back up. I close my thighs around his hand, desperate for more.
“So hot and wet.” He pushes two fingers inside and stills. My walls flex around him. There’s something about being filled without motion that has me squirming and rocking my hips oh so slowly.
“Be still.”
I moan as I ball my fists and count backward from ten in my head to try not to ride his fingers until I come. He circles my womb, and I choke on the air I’m afraid to breathe. When he removes his fingers, my eyes roll back in my head as my cream coats my upper thighs. Every bump and turn has me ready to burst. We pull into the driveway, and I’m afraid to move as he cuts the engine.
“You’ve waited so patiently, haven’t you?”
I nod my head, watching him through lowered lids. He unbuckles his seatbelt and moves over the console. My breath catches as buries his head in my lap, slips my panties to the side, and fills me with his stiff tongue as he rubs my clit with his thumb.
“Ollie,” I whisper, hanging on to my sanity by my fingernails.
He circles my entrance. “No more waiting, sassy. I want to hear you scream when you come.” He thrusts his tongue deep, and I arch off the seat, riding his tongue as he takes me higher and higher with his clever mouth and thumb. My body shakes and my belly tenses. I shake so hard I think I might break apart.
“Ollie.” I give a hoarse cry as the damn breaks and fireworks burst behind my lids.
I’m vaguely aware of being peeled off the seat and lifted into his arms. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I snuggle into his chest as I float in the space that comes from an explosive orgasm.
He carries me inside and tosses me onto our bed. I prop myself up on my elbows and watch him as he undresses revealing his tone muscles. The scar is mostly healed, but I’ll never forget the day it was made. His muscles flex as he pulls his T-shirt over his head and tosses it onto the ground. I lick my lips, hungry for more of him.
“Still think you can hold in those screams?” He pushes his jeans down around his hips, and his thick cock springs forward.
“You know I’m the type who has to be shown things, Oliver.”
“I’ve got few things to show you.” He steps out of his pants, grabs my ankles, and pulls me down to the edge of the bed. “Let’s put that wicked flexibility of yours to work.”
I lift my legs up and part them doing the air splits.
“I fucking love yoga.” He bends my legs back and slams home aided by the slickness he cultivated in the car.
“Oh, God.” I grip the sheets.
“What was that?” he asks, pounding into me relentlessly. I’m at his whim, unable to do more than feel as he bottoms out over and over. I thrash my head from side to side. I can’t hold out as the wave slams into me.
“Ollie,” I cry out, convulsing on his length as he continues to piston in and out of me. He swells, stretching me even farther, and I flex my muscles, ready to give back what he’s giving. He grunts, and I know he’s close.
“Harder, Ollie. Please.” He complies as our gaze meet and the world narrows to the slap of our bodies and his blue eyes.
“Hold your legs.” I keep my legs bent back by my head, and he reaches down to rub my clit.
“So, so close,” I chant.
He pinches my bundle of nerves, and I flex around him as the orgasm washes over me. He thrusts, once, twice, and floods me with his hot spray. We collapse onto the bed, and I hold him close as we drift back to reality in increments, certain this man is the love of my life.
Chapter Eleven
Ollie
I glance over at my girlfriend who’s flitting from aisle to aisle like a kid in a candy store. We get Rolly back tomorrow, and unbeknownst to him, we’re throwing him a surprise party. His birthday is technically on the following Monday, but Saturday was the best day to have everyone come over. It’s the first time I’ve hosted it. Usually, Allie takes care of things like this. It’s incredible how things have changed.
“Look, babe. These will make adorable monsters.” She shakes a package of googly eyes and a stack of neon cups.
“You know, I blame this on you.”
Her smile drops. “What ... hosting? You don’t want to?” She tilts her head.
“No, I do, sassy. I mean his love for monsters.”
She smiles. “It’s pretty adorable.”
Not to Allie. “I agree. My boy has good taste.”
She rolls her eyes. “If I’m sassy, you’re cocky.”
I glance down. “You think so?”
“Stop.” She points at me with her index finger.
“What?”
“Don’t look at me with those sex eyes.”
I bark a laugh. “Sex eyes?”
She narrows her eyes, makes the sign of the cross, and backs up toward the cart she’s currently filling. I don’t mind. Seeing her so involved with Rolly reaffirms what I already know. This is the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.
“You’re adorable, you know that?”
She shakes her butt at me, and I return to looking at the craft kits. Rolly loves to make things, and I need a few more small presents for him. I know I might be spoiling him, but kids grow so fast. It won’t be long before he’s getting into electronics and girls. I want to see his hazel eyes sparkle with the joy of youth before the time passes. My father missed out on so much being gone
for business. I didn’t want that for Rolly. I promised myself I wouldn’t leave him with that feeling. It’s true what people say—we remember out childhood when we have kids and parent accordingly.
I don’t slack on the discipline, but I do spoil him a little. He’s a good kid dealing with a lot. Separations are tough, and Allie and I didn’t make things any easier with our on and off again bullshit. I cringe thinking of how long we might’ve drawn that out if I hadn’t woken up. My thoughts drift to my father. While I’ve made it clear he can’t pretend the past didn’t happen, we’ve made progress. Unlike before, he’s making an effort and taking responsibility for his part in the ruin of our relationship. Before he always played the victim and left the burden on me to fix things. I’m still getting adjusted to this new version of my father, but I’m optimistic enough to be hopeful.
The open invitation I extended to him and his family was a huge step for us both. But I think my mother was correct; it’s time to mend broken fences. When I leave this earth, I don’t want to have unfinished business weighing me down. I grab a volcano making kit, an age appropriate science experiment kit, and a dinosaurs in a bucket kit with stickers, mazes, and coloring pages. Pleased, I carry my things to the cart and add it to the pile beginning to form.
“You know he’s only got six friends coming not sixty, right?” I ask her.
“Yes, but I want it to be perfect.”
“He’s going to love it, sassy. Kids are easy to please.”
She sighs. “I know, but it’s our first time really doing something together like a ...”
“Family. It’s okay. You can say it,” I whisper.
“I just. I want to make a good impression on everyone.”
“You already have just by being yourself and putting up with me.” I kiss the back of her neck, and she laughs.
“Ha. I wish. I’m almost done here. We need to get home so I can finish making a few more personalized things.”
I shake my head thinking of the fully decorated home we’d stayed up late getting together. There were monsters dangling from the ceiling, hanging out on the couch, and strategically placed on the table and the kitchen counters. The red, orange, yellow, and green streamers were twisted and hung to her specifications. The menu continued along the lines with signs that matched the theme and gave cutesy names to everyday foods. I was impressed with the Sesame Street vegetable and fruit trays.
