by Mj Fields
I look at him and scowl.
“Tell me; do you miss his cock?”
I reach out to slap his face, and he grips my hand and pulls me toward him.
“My brother fuck better than me?”
I lift my other hand, intent on slapping him with it, and he flicks his cigarette and catches it.
“Gotta be quicker than that,” he sneers.
“Let go,” I snap.
“Did once, and here we are. Now answer the question. Was he better?”
I snap my mouth shut.
“Oh shit, it’s been three years, right? How much dick have you had in that pussy I wrecked first since him?”
“Don’t. You. Talk. To me. Like that.”
“Come on, Juliana.” The way he says my name is venomous. “I’ve fucked so many since you that I don’t even remember. But you, you’d remember fucking my brother.”
I feel tears. Tears of anger, not sadness.
“I’m kind of pissed that I saved you from being a little whore, thinking you were something better, only to be shown differently.”
“I’m nobody’s whore,” I snap. “I’m a survivor.”
He takes my hand and rubs it up and down his erection. “My cock thinks differently.”
I pull my hands away, and he lets me.
“What the fuck do you want?” he asks.
I think of how to answer that honestly.
“Gage is going to make Gail and I leave.”
He shrugs. “So?”
“I don’t want to cause problems. I want to make this easy for him. He didn’t choose this. So, I guess I need your help.”
He laughs maliciously. I stare at him.
“Oh fuck, you’re serious?”
I nod.
“I seriously am in need of a fucking blowjob, too,” he says with an almost evil grin when my body stiffens. “Come on, Juliana; you’ve sucked for a hell of a lot less.”
Fuck him. Fuck him and his taunting. Fuck him and...He’s serious. Oh God, he is serious.
I can do this.
“I want a promise that I don’t get thrown out tomorrow.”
“You seriously gonna suck dick to stay here?” he asks with amusement in his voice.
“I’ve sucked for less,” I throw his mocking words back at him as I reach forward and squeeze his cock through the denim.
“Then, get on it,” he grits out.
Chapter Ten
Once Again
Garrett
Two minutes and thirty seconds ago, I saw the woman I have loved, hated, ran from, ran because of, who has haunted my dreams, and caused me nightmares for six fucking years.
She looks so damn different, older, but not old. Her hair is longer, more controlled, not in its usual messy-ass ponytail or pigtail braids. She looks more confident, but I know better. She’s thicker, no longer a tiny, little twig with a big ass and nice rack. She has hips, her tits look heavier, her ass...well, I’ve yet to see it, but I know damn well it’s going to match the rest of the grown-up Juliana.
Two minutes ago, my emotions were all over fucking the place, but need—need for a release, need to show her just who’s in control, need to put her in her fucking place, need to prove a fucking point that, honestly, I’m not too fucking sure what it is at this moment. Just...fuck, need for her.
A minute and a half ago, she asked me to help her. It pissed me off, so I threw every fucking thing in her damn face that could possibly bring her to her knees, literally and figuratively. She fucking slapped me. No woman has ever slapped me, and yeah, I fucking deserved it on many occasions.
Right now, her hand is shaking as she unbuckles my belt then unbuttons me, while I lean back and watch her. She then unzips my pants, reaches down them, and grabs my hard cock. Her hands are cold and trembling. Her eyes widen when she runs her finger over my piercing.
Didn’t expect that coming, now did you? I want to say, but I don’t.
And then...then she looks up at me.
Her pale brown eyes that haven’t changed are still expressive as fuck. I know she wants me. I can see it. I also know the hesitation, and it’s not because she’s a fucking virgin. She’s probably remembering the two fucking things we never did.
I never allowed her to suck my cock, and I never attempted anal. Not with her. Not ever with her. Too much care for what she went through. Too much knowledge of what that does to a person.
She expects me to stop her like I always did in the past.
Well, newsflash, that ain’t happening.
“You’re not a fucking victim anymore. Grown-ass woman, making grown-ass decisions that affect everyone without a care in the fucking world. Villains can’t hide behind victims. Either wrap those lips around my cock or walk your ass back to the house and pack a fucking bag.”
“I hate you,” she hisses as she grips me hard, really fucking hard.
I groan to piss her off. “First pussy I ever busted was tighter than that, girl. Now suck a dick, or get the fuck off.”
She takes a deep breath then leans down and wraps her hot, wet mouth around my cock. She moves up and down, taking as much as she can, yet doing it slow as fuck.
“Jesus, girl, they came back for more of this?” I taunt her.
I feel her teeth against my sensitive skin as she drags them up my cock.
“Oh, I see now. Your teeth really do scrape. Thought that was just a rumor. Apparently”—I pause when she clamps down a little fucking tighter. Bitch—”not,” I finish.
I try not to let her see that that shit hurts, but let me tell you, it’s not the best feeling in the damn world.
She’s sloppy, slow. She fucking sucks at sucking cock.
I grip her hair and pull her back. “Get on your knees.”
“No,” she sneers.
“Fine.” I push past her and stand up. “Get the fuck out of here.”
She doesn’t move. She stands there, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, lips pursed, pissed the fuck off.
“Get the—”
I stop when she drops to her knees.
“Good fucking choice.” I step up to her.
I grip her hair and pull her head back. “Now, either suck it or I’ll fuck that mouth. You choose.”
Her mouth opens. She grips my cock at the base, strokes up, not touching the tip, my piercing, and avoids everything that is super fucking sensitive. She runs her tongue up the underside, licking around the base of my head as she grips my balls roughly. Her tongue flattens as it runs up and down my veins, then she flicks it against my piercing.
I hold back a groan. Feels really fucking good, but I’m not telling her that. I let go of her hair and cross my arms over my chest.
“Suck. My. Cock. Stop fucking around.”
She sucks fucking hard up and down, up and down. No teeth. All hot, wet, and fucking good. So fucking good it pisses me the fuck off.
My balls tighten. I’m gonna fucking come. Too fucking soon. Too fucking soon, rolls through my head over and over.
No, fuck that. I’m not a damn kid, and she’s not the damn girl I want to make fucking happy.
I grip her hair and pull her head back. I thrust into her mouth and still. Her eyes widen, the moon light casting down on them.
“Still fucking beautiful,” falls out in a whisper that I hope to hell she doesn’t hear it.
When she begins to gag, her throat tightening around me, I’m fucking done.
I quickly pull out, her hair still fisted in my hand, my other on my cock as I grip tightly and shoot my cum all over her face.
Her lips are sealed tight, her eyes fucking angry, no livid. But she doesn’t move, not one fucking inch as I unload on her.
When I’m done, I quickly tuck my dick back in my jeans, not bothering to button up. Then I lean over her, grab the smokes off the table, and light up when I step back.
She’s still looking up at me, face full of cum, eyes filled of vengeance.
“Go. You’ll stay. You better fucking not cause any damn problems o
r you’re out.”
She grabs the hem of her shirt as she stands and wipes her face.
“My pull-out game’s a lot better than it used to be.” I point to my chin and tell her. “Still got a little on your chin.”
“You’ve changed. You are such—”
“You may want to fucking check yourself. You’re in Falcon country now.”
“I hate you,” she hisses.
I nod. “Feeling’s fucking mutual.”
“You have no right to hate me! You chose this. You left me when I needed you the most!” Tears form in her eyes, and her words...her fucking words cut pretty fucking deeply.
“You didn’t fucking need me. You needed any fucking available body. You made a choice. And you fucked up royally when it was my brother.” I say it nice and calmly. I’m not going to let her know just how fucking much that hurt. Still hurts.
“I needed you! I needed you, Garrett. Your child deserved better than I could give him. I did what I had to do,” she says through a sob.
“My child?” I half-laugh. “I didn’t even have a chance.”
“I gave you one. You told me...You said we...” She stops. “I did what I had to do for him. Me! I did that.”
“And I spoke the damn truth. If we raised that boy together, he’d have been brand—”
Her laugh catches me off guard, and I wait for some sort of explanation.
“Brand-on. Brand. You chose that name. You tried to curse him from the moment you found out. I did what I had to do to prove you wrong.”
My son was named after a fucking drunken rant? What the fuck?
“He is amazing, smart—”
“No thanks to you,” I sneer.
She shakes her head and looks at me like I’m pathetic. “I had a dark moment. You had six years. Six! Your mother helped me get myself together. I’m Nurse Juliana, Garrett! I am just like you...” She pauses and starts again. “I busted my ass and became something. It was the second most difficult thing I have ever done. I will never ever leave him again, never.” She turns her back on me.
“No one knows I’m here. You keep your mouth shut, or all deals are off.”
She glares back at me before storming away.
I finish my cigarette then butt it in the candle before heading back.
When I walk in, Gray sits up in the fucking bunkbed we slept in as kids.
“You good?” he asks.
“Heard that, did ya?” I ask as I take off my boots.
“Sure did. You’ll be lucky if Mom and Mags didn’t.”
I grab his pillow and fluff it before lying back down. “We have an early morning. Try to get some sleep.”
***
Walking through the field with Grayson, I see Gage, that little shit Phoenix, Mags in a power scooter, and then...then I see a little boy.
My heart beats faster. I feel a little sick, a little excited, and a lot fucking scared.
“You good?” Gray asks, and I shake my head. “You’ll be all right.”
I see Brandon point then jump up and down a little as he looks at Gage.
Gage nods and then dirt flies up behind Brandon’s sneakers as he runs. Hell, he’s flying toward us.
“Gotta be,” I say, pulling my ballcap down to cover my eyes a little bit more.
“We’re big fuckers, Garrett. Ain’t no way you can hide under that hat.” Gray laughs.
I give him a sideways glance. “When the hell did you start talking so much? And when did you actually get funny?”
He nods. “Working through my shit, man, working through my shit.”
“Hey!” the little boy waves as he runs toward us. “Hey, Uncle Garrett, Uncle Gray, it’s me, Brandon! I’m right—” His words stop when he falls in the tall grass.
I tear ass toward him. Panic, I feel fucking panicked.
When I get to him, he’s laughing. On his back, laughing.
“You okay, bud?” I ask, dropping down to my knees.
He smiles, fucking smiles at me. One tooth is missing. His eyes are light brown, and his lips are full, like hers. His face and everything else is me. Unmistakably me.
His smile fades as he cocks his head to the side.
“Are you okay”—he pauses—”bud?”
“Yeah.” I smile. “Yeah, I sure am.”
“Why you look scared?” he asks, sitting up.
“Well...” I run my hands over my hat and take a deep breath, trying to come up with something to say that makes sense out of what we have no clue of. Instead, I tell him, “I used to work with horses.”
“You did?” He smiles big and bright, eyes full of wonder.
I nod. “Fields like this that were unkempt, not mowed, were pretty dangerous. Prairie dogs...” I pause when his eyes get wider. Fuck. Fuck, Garrett, talk. “They dug holes and shit in the ground.”
He laughs and covers his mouth.
“Sorry, bud,” I apologize for cursing, and he smiles again. “They dug holes, and sometimes, a horse would fall in one of them. They could get stuck or break a leg. They break a leg, it’s over for them. I was worried you may have gotten hurt.”
He leans in and asks, “What do you mean, it was over for them?”
Shit. Fuck.
“Well, they’d never be able to run again.”
“My friend Troy broke his leg. He ran just fine.”
To this, I laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I guess so.”
When he looks up, I look behind me.
“Hey, Brandon, remember me?”
He smiles, same bright-ass smile he gave me. “Uncle”—he stops and looks between us—”Grayson.”
Gray nods. “In the flesh.”
He holds his hand out, and Brandon takes it. Then he pulls the kid up.
“You need help up, too?” he asks me, giving me the get-your-shit-together look.
I hop up and smile. “I’m good.”
Brandon grabs my hand, then his. “Let’s go!”
He walks fast, and Gray laughs as he looks over at me.
I nod, knowing he’s wondering if I pulled my shit together.
“Daddy has a girlfriend. Mom and Grandma don’t like her very much,” he tells us. “Mags likes her a lot. She lives here, next to Mags. She hates fishing. Can you believe it?” He looks back at us, and we both shake our heads and say “no” at the same time.
“Mags got hurt. She had an operation. She’s all better, but she has to use a scooter. She says it’s for the birds. She says funny things like that. I don’t understand why she thinks it’s for the birds; they can’t drive it.” He laughs and looks back again.
We laugh at his joke.
Gray asks, “Maybe it’s a figure of speech?”
“Fingers don’t speak.” Brandon looks at him like he’s nuts, and that makes me laugh again. He doesn’t stop; he keeps right on going. “I can’t believe you are both here! We are gonna have the best time, I promise. I hope you like to fish. Phoenix doesn’t. Can you believe it?”
“Brandon, you just—”
I shoot Gray a look, telling him to shut the hell up.
“Just what?” he asks.
“Are a pretty cool, little man,” I tell him, making him smile.
“Yeah, and I like fishing. A lot!”
“Does Phoenix?” Gray asks, and I want to shove his ass down.
“I just told you she doesn’t. Got wax in your ears, my boy?” He laughs.
“Mags?” I ask.
He nods. “She’s the best.”
“She sure is,” Gray says.
Getting closer to Gage, Phoenix, and Mags, I want to slow down. I want more time with him. I want him to keep on rambling on and on about nothing and everything. And I don’t want him to fucking know. I don’t. I want him to be this way—happy, excited, un-fucking-touched by a world that just isn’t so fucking pretty. I want him to soar like a Falcon should. A bird of prey, taking everything they want, desire, and need in order to be free and continue soaring without fear.
I look at
Phoenix, expecting her to be the first to make me out to be the villain. She looks from Brandon, smiling, to Mags. Not one glance at me, which is a relief.
I look at Mags, and my chest gets tight.
“Come over here and give me some love,” she says as tears form in her eyes.
Grayson is first. He hugs her tight and closes his eyes. “Missed you, Mags.”
“I was right here, Gray,” she whispers.
“I know, Mags, I know.”
She pulls back and takes his face in her hands. “Don’t you leave us again.”
He nods and steps back.
I see her watching me now. I step toward her.
“Mags.” I hold out my hand, not knowing if I will get the same warm response as Gray got.
She grabs my outstretched hand and pulls me forward into a hug. “You here to stay?”
“Yeah,” I answer, trying my best to mask all these fucking emotions.
She pulls back and holds my face. Her gray eyes are sad. I hurt her.
I push my face into her hand and mumble, “Fuck.”
She smiles, tears rolling down her face. “Welcome home.”
I nod, afraid to say a word as I wipe the falling tear away.
She smiles softly at me. “It’ll get easier.”
I nod again.
“He’s beautiful,” she whispers and nods ever so slightly toward Brandon.
I swallow hard and secretly pray I don’t break.
“You are stronger than you think,” she adds.
I nod again.
“I love you, Garrett Falcon.”
I clear my throat. “Love you, too, Mags.”
“Why’s everyone so sad?” Brandon asks someone.
“That’s love, buddy, that’s love,” Phoenix answers.
“I thought so, too,” Brandon whispers.
“You wanna pick berries and give them all a chance to talk?” she asks him.
Mags looks away from studying me. “I’ll come, too.”
“How about you stay with your boys?” Phoenix asks her.
“You sure?” Mags asks.
Brandon laughs. “She’s sure. Come on; I’ll race you to the barn to get the buckets.”
I watch as he runs, Phoenix chasing after him.
“You ready, my boys?” Mags asks.
“Yeah,” Gray and Gage say.
I don’t answer. I’m not ready for this shit. Not ready to face Mom, and sure as shit not ready to face Juliana, not after last night.
