by Bijou Hunter
Unable to help myself, I caress his lips with my thumb. Instinctively, I lick my lips, thinking of our earlier kiss.
“Cap, I like you and the way I feel when I’m with you. All my tension washes away like dirt on a car in the rain. That doesn’t mean I’m ready to change my address to see how this plays out.”
“No, you probably won’t make that leap tonight,” he says, shaking his head sadly. “Not even for an amazing catch like me. Fortunately, I have tomorrow to seal the deal.”
Smiling at his confidence, I whisper, “I look forward to whatever you have in store for me.”
“And I look forward to you enjoying everyone in my life. I wonder if there’s time tomorrow for you to meet everyone.”
“Stop planning my entire future.”
“Stop playing the passive victim. You’re an active participant on this crazy ride.”
“I don’t like when you stand up to me,” I say, sounding more confident than I feel.
“And I don’t like how badly you lie, but here we are.”
“Bullshit. You fucking love how badly I lie.”
“Of course, I do,” he says, revealing a wide grin. “What man wouldn’t?”
Wrapping my too-short legs around his too-hard, wide waist, I wish I felt as sexy as I’m pretending. “These are the moments where I think you and I don’t make a lick of fucking sense.”
“Is it because I look so damn good wet and your hair is a mess? If so, that mess is giving me the most painful hard-on.”
His words send every nerve in my body into overdrive, and I nearly jump away from him.
“No, Farmer Ted,” I stammer, thinking of his erection I’m now certain I feel. “It’s not my hair, but thanks for making me self-conscious about it.”
“Yes, now every time your hair is messy, you’ll know my dick approves.”
“Shut up,” I say and dip the back of my head into the water to try and tame my hair. “Jerk.”
“You lash out when you’re embarrassed. I dig that about you. I’m unable to handle tears, so I much prefer insults.”
I wipe the water from my eyes and give him a scowl. “I’ll need to cry next time then.”
“You’ll try and fail. Tears aren’t your thing, Pip.”
“Yes, I am a pipsqueak. I’m small, and you’re too damn big.”
“Petite, baby. They call small divas ‘petite’ because it sounds sexier.”
“We don’t fit.”
“We’re not LEGOs, Audrey,” he says, rolling his dark eyes and wrenching me off him. He walks closer to the side to allow me to grab on. Then he steps back and leans into the pool’s corner. “We don’t need to fit that way.”
“For sex, we do.”
“Uh, you need to watch more porn because your logistics are all wrong. My parts and your parts will fit just fine without the length of our legs matching.”
“Whatever.”
“You deflect when embarrassed too. I prefer the insults.”
“Peanuthead.”
“That’s the stuff.”
As much as I hate giggling, my natural laughter always possesses a rolling, silly element to it. Cap’s enjoyment of my insults sends me into a laughing frenzy. Before I can get control of myself, he laughs too, and my giggles worsen until I’m choking.
Of course, my laughter is mostly a defense against the fury of emotions Cap inspires inside me. This giant, handsome man has me drowning in wild lust, and I’m unsure if I even want to be saved.
CAP
There’s only one obstacle preventing me from kissing Audrey’s sexy lips. She’s more than ready for some delicious tongue-tango, and I’m sporting a woody that only a good hard fuck—or more likely my skilled hand for the time being—will fix.
The only thing keeping me from kissing her stupid is the image of Cooper Johansson storming into the pool area as soon as I make my move. The old timer has cock-blocker written all over his rugged face.
Not that I blame him. If I ever have a little girl, I’ll scare men away too. I’ll probably scare away women interested in my sons too. People and their genital diseases scare the shit out of me thanks to Mom’s very graphic sex education.
“I want to kiss you,” I say from my corner in the deep end.
Audrey hangs from the pool ladder and shrugs. “You didn’t ask for permission at the sandwich place.”
“Your father might come in and piss on our fun.”
“If he hasn’t already, he isn’t going to.”
“Are you sure?”
“I know my dad as well as I know the chick in the mirror.”
“So not well at all, huh?” I tease.
Audrey has the audacity to feign confusion. “What does that mean?”
“You’re insecure for no reason. You’re riled up when nothing’s causing it. You’re unsettled despite your life being easy. Can you explain why you have those reactions? Let me answer for you. No, no, you can’t. From my point of view, you don’t know that hottie in the mirror at all.”
“And you know yourself so well, huh, dickhead?”
“Yeah. I know how far I’m willing to go to protect those I love. How far I’m willing to go to protect my business. And finally how far I’m willing to go to protect a stranger. Is there really more to life than those three questions?”
“Yes, there is,” she says, having no idea what those other questions might be.
“Such as?”
“Like what you’ll have for breakfast or how many babies you’ll have or what’s the best song by Skynyrd.”
“I don’t listen to Skynyrd, I always eat the same breakfast, and I don’t know how many babies I’ll have until I have them.”
“You can’t be serious about Skynyrd.”
“I don’t lie about music, Pip.”
“I need to come up with an insulting name for you.”
“I thought I was Farmer Ted.”
“Everyone who pisses me off is Farmer Ted. You need something special.”
“Special sounds right,” I murmur and wink at her.
Audrey wants to be pissed—Skynyrd is evidentially essential to rednecks from Kentucky—but she can’t help smiling when I wade through the water in her direction.
“I’m claiming you, Audrey Johansson.”
“What’s the mean exactly?”
“It means you can’t bang anyone else or I’ll break the guy and probably shit on your car.”
“I really don’t want you shitting on my car.”
“Then keep your lovely lips away from any man that isn’t me.”
Despite her wide, nervous eyes, she lifts her jaw defiantly. “If I claim you, does that mean you’ll keep your dick packed away for everyone except me?”
“Yep. You and I are an item. No one interferes with us, or I’ll fucking break them.”
“And shit on their cars.”
“Don’t laugh. I can shit on command.”
“Really?”
Shaking my head, I cover her lips with mine and inhale the scent of the woman I plan to claim for good.
We’re it.
I don’t know how I know, but I just do. Like when I was a kid, and I knew Keanu was a friend I’d keep until we were crusty old men sporting walkers and comb-overs. My gut knows shit, and it states for a fact that Audrey Johansson won’t be kissing any other men ever. I’m hers as much as she’s mine. Based on the way she turns to putty in my hands, she’s happy with our new, permanent arrangement.
AUDREY
I’ve spent most of my life searching for something to give me direction. I once hoped the twins would provide me with a purpose. Now I’m right where I belong, doing what I was born to do.
As our lips meet, he wraps my body against his, and I can’t imagine a more perfect feeling. I rest my arms on his powerful shoulders, lean my body into his, and allow him to lead. Each kiss silences another of those nagging questions rattling around in my head for so long. Who am I? What is the point of my existence? I’m no one spe
cial. I accomplish nothing that can’t be accomplished by someone else. My parents mean something to the world. They overcame obstacles and built successful lives by following their passions. I have no passion, never built anything, and find no obstacles beyond my uselessness. I want to click with something—or someone—in the way my parents did with each other and their jobs.
In Cap’s arms, I exist in a way I never have before. His touch is flawless. Nothing about him bothers me. It’s all perfection. Cap’s lips suck at mine—possessive, hungry, and not the least bit careful because he knows I belong with him.
There’s no hesitation in his affection. No games to play. No score to keep. He isn’t kissing me because he’s a horny guy looking to get laid. He’s kissing me because I’m me, and he’s him, and there’s nowhere we belong except together.
Still kissing me, Cap makes gentle turns in the pool. I love the sensation of the water’s pull against the unbreakable wall of his body. I’m a part of him now. Rather than the fourth child of a powerful man or the third daughter of Ellsberg Elementary School’s favorite teacher or the sister of more interesting Johansson kids, I am the girl who makes Casper Hayes’s heart beat like a freight train in his chest. It’s the role I was born to fill.
“No,” I groan when he tries to pull away. “Never leave me.”
“You’re grinding against my dick like you’re trying to whittle a stake.”
Gripping his face, I stare into his nearly onyx eyes and declare, “I’ll fuck you right here if you stay.”
Cap smiles so sweetly for me. “Silly Pip. If we fucked in public, I’d have to pop out the eyes of anyone who might have seen you naked. We wouldn’t want dozens of eyeless people bumping into things in White Horse, now would we?”
“I’d do it to keep you,” I say, wrapping my legs tighter around his waist.
“You’d also resent the ever-loving fuck out of me for making you do it to keep me. I can tell you’re a diva who enjoys holding a grudge.”
“I do hold them for most people but never for you.”
“That’s the slick between your legs fogging up your brain,” he says, and I feel the mentioned flesh twitch approvingly. “Once you’d get your kicks, you’ll build up a huge fucking grudge against me for providing those kicks.”
“Why isn’t your brain foggy with horny? Am I not hot enough?”
“Considering I’m about to jizz up this pool something nasty, I’d say you’re hot enough.”
Fighting a smile at his wording, I ask, “Then how come your brain works if you’re so horny?”
“Because I’m a guy, and we’re always horny. Most days, I walk around at half-mast. Since you and I met, I’ve been at full-mast. If I couldn’t think straight, I would have crashed my Harley on the way to the sandwich shop.”
“So what’s the plan for tonight, if it doesn’t involve you inside me?”
“We make out a little more. Then we say goodnight, and you head upstairs to deal with your slickness problem while I go home to deal with my super-mast. Tomorrow, we’ll see each other again at the business meeting, and then we’ll have dinner with our fathers. Finally, I'll start planning out your entire future while your father tells me to slow the fuck down because you’re his princess and he can’t have you running off with a thug like me.”
Leaning forward to caress my lips across his brow, I whisper, “I heard nothing after you said we’ll make out more.”
Cap smirks in a way I ought to hate. He has me wrapped around his giant finger. My parents raised me to be an independent woman who puts people in their places.
I’m no one’s fucking bitch!
That was the plan before meeting Cap. Now I’m okay with how this massive son of a bitch smiles at how hooked I am. Because my feelings for him are real and raw. They can’t be controlled by me, Pop, or even Cap.
4 – CAP
Leaving Audrey the night before took every ounce of self-control. Her wily hips worked my dick into a feverish pitch. Hell if I barely survived the ride home without pulling to the side of the road to finish what her sexy body started.
After a hot shower, I sleep like a fucking baby. Audrey manages to both wind me up and break me down until I’m more relaxed than I’ve been in my life.
I wake up to an empty house and head to breakfast where I know my family is already eating.
Like most mornings, I find my parents sitting side by side at the counter. Mom’s blonde hair was recently cut short to around her shoulders. She decided to do something different on her last birthday, claiming she officially felt like an old fart. The shorter cut was her attempt to embrace her age. Today, despite the cold weather, she wears a backless halter top and cutoff shorts. She clearly bored with embracing her old-fart phase.
“Well if it isn’t ‘Angel in the Morning’ over here,” Chipper says, smirking at me from his booth.
Sitting nearby, his dark-haired twin sister begins singing the song he mentioned. Chipper and Cricket are so excited to tease me that I’m forced to wait two full minutes before asking why my sister is back in town early.
“I heard you found a woman worthy of your third wing.”
Unimpressed by her joke attempt, Chipper shakes his head. “A swing and a miss.”
Cricket and Chipper—aka the OG twins—share a laugh while the mini-twins—belonging to Cricket and Poet—watch me from their spot across from their mother.
“What?” I ask the ten-year-olds when they stare at me.
“Nothing,” they mumble in unison because they’re weirdoes.
“I heard your woman is a biker bitch,” Poet says.
My dark-haired brother-in-law is often referred to as a dirty biker with solid hygiene. I don’t know precisely why we call him dirty, but he doesn’t care, and I refuse to be the only one not to torment him.
“Audrey’s dad is a biker,” I clarify, “and she’s a bitch, but I don’t think that makes her a biker bitch.”
“She rode down here on a personalized Harley,” Dad says without looking at us. “I think that makes her a biker bitch.”
Sitting in my corner booth, I study the menu as if I won’t order the same thing I’ve gotten for a year. “Yeah, but the Harley is pink.”
“Angel-bro has a point,” Cricket says while cooing over her six-month-old son, Magnus, drooling in his stroller. “Pink isn’t a tough color.”
Ignoring her comment, I eye my siblings and their separate trio of kids. The OG twins never stopped sharing a brain despite them being thirty-year-old parents. The mini-twins are pre-teens and possibly evil. The Irish twins cling to their mama, forever worried she won’t love them as much since the newer, cuter kid who recently joined the family. My in-laws are both incredibly tolerant of our White Horse snark. Could Audrey fit as comfortably into this family as Poet and Tatum?
“Dad, when you met Mom, did she ever try to end things or put up walls with you?”
“No,” he says without looking at me. “Your mom was submissive from day one.”
Glancing at Mom, I ask, “Did Dad ever give you trouble about having a relationship?”
“No, honey. Your dad was wrapped around my finger from the first time we met. I swear he even ejaculated a little when I entered the room. He was just that into me.”
Dad gives Mom a side-glare. “Classy, Candy.”
“Shut the fuck up, Hayes.”
As my parents grin at each other, I turn to my siblings and hope they’re more helpful. I open my mouth to ask Chipper, but he shakes off the question.
“Love at first sight right here, angel-bro. Sorry that I can’t give you any advice. However, if you want me to help you track down this girl and make her your willing victim, I’ll check my calendar.”
“How about you, Cricket?”
“I’m breastfeeding right now, so trapping a sex slave sounds like more work than my leaking boobs can handle. Maybe Poet can help you.”
“No,” Poet says immediately while Chipper stares horrified at Cricket and her le
aking boobs. “Sorry, kid, but I’m too soft to enslave a woman. Now if you need me to help you mess up a man for any reason, I’ll have your back.”
“I’m not interested in keeping a woman against her will.”
“Pussy,” Chipper says, and Tatum grins.
“I blame you for making him soft,” Dad whispers to Mom.
“I raised him to be evil,” she whispers back. “I don’t know where he got all these morals from.”
I ignore my parents and keep my gaze focused on my brother-in-law. “Cricket blew you off in the beginning. How did you make her see the error of her ways?”
“I’m never wrong,” Cricket says with a mouth full of waffle. “I never error.”
Poet frowns at her, but I think he’s more annoyed she’s dropping food out of her smiling mouth.
“So how did you get her back?” I ask again.
“Is that a real question?” Poet mutters, and I fight the urge to flip him off. When I nod, he sighs. “I knocked her up with twins.”
“And now that your relationship has gotten stale, you knocked her up again,” Chipper says. “Very interesting game plan, Mister Banjo.”
“It’s not stale!” Cricket cries, ignoring me now. “Poet and I have never been more in love.”
“Prove it by having sex right here in front of everyone,” Chipper taunts.
“No!” the mini-twins yell. Murphy points at his uncle and nearly hisses, “No.”
When my family focuses on the irritated mini-twins, I sigh loudly. “None of you are helping me in any fucking way.”
“Oh, sweet angel,” Cricket coos and I steel myself for her bullshit, “you don’t need our help. You’re simply the most wonderful mortal man ever to walk this earth. If you want this girl to love you, she shall love you. If you require her to sacrifice everything for you, she will gladly burn down her life to make yours better. So you wish it, so it shall be done.”
Chipper starts clapping, and the others quickly join in. Even my parents stop flirting with each other long enough to applaud. My father’s giant hands make a noise so loud that Magnus flinches, glances around horrified, and finally lets out a howl so pathetic any wounded animal would be impressed.
