by Olivia Chase
But I took a chance. I stepped out of my comfort zone. I made changes. And it paid off in the best way.
Whitney and I walk toward our apartment—since the weather is nice in early May, we walked to school. I reach down and squeeze her ass, and she laughs, tossing me a side eye. “You’re feeling frisky today, aren’t you.”
I growl into her ear, “You have no idea.”
“I can’t wait to see the baby,” she says with a smile. Whitney had a big paper to write, so she didn’t get to come back to Rock Bridge with me before.
We enter the apartment, and as always, I press her back against the door once we’re inside and kiss her until she’s sagging against me. I can’t get enough of her taste. Her soft moans. The sensation of her breasts swelling and arching toward me. She lets me know in every way how much she wants me.
“If we don’t hurry, we’re going to be late,” she murmurs.
“Who cares?” I run kisses down her throat and then take a nibble. She sucks in a shaky breath and digs her hands into my hair to press my mouth harder on her.
My baby loves me being rough.
I give a growl of satisfaction and bite the delicate flesh, savoring her delicious shudder. When I drop to my knees and mouth her mound through her thin skirt, she says, “Oh God, Asher. You’re going to make me come if you keep that up.”
I slide a hand under her skirt, push her panties to the side. “Fuck,” I say in wonder. “You’re already so wet for me, kitten. I bet I can make you come in under a minute.”
Her knees begin to shake as I thrust my fingers into her, fucking her pussy and grinding the heel of my hand against her clit. She leans back against the door, panting.
I feel the telltale swelling of her cunt, the gush of liquid that coats my fingers, and I work my hand faster, harder. When I reach up to flick her nipple through her thin shirt, she gasps, and that does it.
Her entire body trembles with her orgasm. I hike her skirt up and lean forward to suck every drop of juice from her. Fuck, she tastes like ambrosia, like sin, like every sexy dream I’ve ever had. I’m addicted to her.
Her knees begin to sag, and I straighten and press against her to keep her from falling.
“Fuck,” I breathe. I kiss her mouth, and she gives a delicate mewl at the contact, at tasting herself on me. “You drive me crazy. I’m fucking you so hard tonight.”
“Yes,” she says. “Please. I need it.”
It takes strength to push away from her, but I release her from the door and walk into the bedroom. Toss some belongings in a bag, then my toiletries. Whitney has a shit-eating grin on her face as she does the same.
“Feeling good, kitten?” I ask, almost laughing.
“You already know I am.” She shoves her shoulder against mine. “Do you need me to feed your ego even more?”
“It doesn’t hurt to pump it up a little sometimes. Positive reinforcement is useful to encouraging behavior you approve of.”
She shakes her head and laughs. “Oh, you don’t get to use that against me, sir. I was in psychology, too.”
Whitney and I finish packing and make record time loading the car. We take the hour-long drive to Rock Bridge, the windows down, music pouring through the speakers.
“Hey, will you text my mom that we’re on our way?” I ask her. My mom. It’s still kind of surreal to say that. After two decades of her being gone, she’s now a part of my life.
Whitney grabs her phone and grins as she fires off a text. After a moment, it dings. “She says hurry, that we’re missing all the baby cuddling time.”
I groan. “God, I wonder when she’s gonna aim that baby fever at me. She needs to talk to Smith and Aubrey first—they’re already hitched and don’t have any kids yet.” I’ve learned that my mom is typical in many ways, including her desire to be a grandma multiple times over. While she hasn’t started in yet on me and Whitney, she has made it known…a lot…that she’s thrilled we’re together.
The drive home is peaceful. Whitney’s fingers are interlaced with mine, and we settle into a comfortable silence, listening to music and looking out the windows. Buds are erupting on trees, and new grass is poking through the ground. Green everywhere.
It feels like a new beginning.
I finally cross into Rock Bridge, and Whitney shifts in her seat. “I’m ready to get home,” she says. “I didn’t realize how much I’d miss everyone.” She’s kept in contact with her parents, talking to them regularly. But I know she’s looking forward to spending time with them.
“We can come back any time you want,” I tell her, squeezing her hand. “We’re only an hour away. It’s an easy drive.”
She looks over at me, and I shoot her a smile. “God, I love you.”
My grin grows wider. “I love you too, kitten.”
We pass the diner. Foley’s Sports Bar. The drive-in movies. The high school. All the things that glued me and her together in the past. The town that brought us to the place we are now I’m glad I’m back in school. But I’m also glad I moved back home for a while. Because coming back to win Whitney was the smartest thing I ever did.
When we get to Outlaws, it’s early afternoon. My stomach growls, and I pull into the parking lot. “I’m hungry enough to eat a fucking elephant.”
She laughs. “I’m hungry, too. Knowing your family, there will be a ton of food set up.”
We decided to have a little party to celebrate everything—me finishing my second-to-last semester of school. Whitney finishing her first semester. Baby Kennedy Beckett being born. Mom enrolling herself in an online course to work on getting her associate’s degree. Things are looking up for the Becketts, that’s for sure.
When we come through the door, I see my family milling around. Aubrey is curled against Smith’s side, and they’re both leaning on the bar. He’s gazing down at her, love clear in his eyes, and he rubs her side and kisses her brow.
Jax is holding Kennedy in his arms, bouncing him up and down and cooing. Who the fuck would have guessed my brother would be so good with babies? Brooklyn is sitting in a chair beside them, peering up at her family.
Mom is on Brooklyn’s other side, taking pictures with her phone. When she sees me and Whitney, she stands and says, “Hey, they’re here!”
Her first action is to come over and give me a big hug. Her walking is still a little stiff after her accident, but physical therapy has helped her come a long way. She’s hardly limping at all.
Mom wraps her arms around me, squeezes. “So glad to have you back, Asher.”
It’s still so odd to me to have her here, to be touching her. But I’m getting more used to it. I hug her back and let myself really feel the moment. I give her a big squeeze, enough to make her gasp a laugh. “Go sit down, Mom. Do you need something? Want me to get you a drink?”
Mom waves her hand. “You spoil me, son. I’m fine. Go say hi to your brothers.” She reaches over and takes Whitney’s hand, hugging her too. “We’re glad to have you here,” she murmurs at my girlfriend.
They continue talking. I walk over to Jax and look down at my nephew. He has the Beckett hair, dark blond, his brilliant green eyes peering up at me. When he sees me, he smiles.
“Look at him. He loves me already.” I reach over and take him in my arms. He’s so light I’m almost afraid I’m going to drop him. I clutch him to me.
“Don’t be flattered. He smiles like that when he has to fart,” Jax says.
I shoot him a glare. “Don’t be a fucking ass,” I start to say, and then I stop when I feel a rumbling against my arm. Well, dammit. He was right.
Jax roars with laughter. “See? I told you. This baby has my gas.” He pats his belly.
Brooklyn reaches up and swats him. “Don’t be gross.”
I walk with Kennedy in my arms over to Aubrey and give her a one-armed hug. “Good to see you,” I tell her.
“You look like a natural with a baby,” she says with a wink.
“Very funny.” I shake my head then c
lap Smith on the back. “Hi, brother.”
“Hey,” he says, clapping me back. “Glad you made it in, fucker.”
“You’re saying fucker, but you’re really telling me you love me,” I joke.
Whitney appears by my side, and when she sees Kennedy, she gasps and touches his small forehead. “Oh God, he’s so precious and so perfect.” She looks up at me, tears in her eyes. “He looks so much like you guys. You have strong genes. Look at his chin. His eyes.” She draws her lower lip between her teeth and looks back at Brooklyn. “I’m so happy for you. He’s beautiful.”
“Hey, I helped,” Jax protests.
We all ignore him, and I hand the baby over to Whitney. She cups his weight in her arms, parting the blanket around his face. He reaches up and grabs at her nose, and she laughs.
“You’re grabby.”
“He’s a Beckett boy, all right,” Aubrey says.
Mom barks a laugh. “Oh, tell me about it. I couldn’t keep your father’s hands off me.”
I spin around and look at her in horror. “Okay, that’s too far,” I say.
She laughs harder, clapping her hand on the table. “He was a randy guy. I’m surprised you guys didn’t hear us. We were always going at it.”
Even Smith looks shocked now. He drops his jaw. “You mean, you guys weren’t just wrestling in your room?”
Brooklyn and Aubrey break into laughter. Whitney’s biting her lip, trying to laugh quietly.
Finally, my brothers start to laugh, and I do, too. Fuck. It feels good to be happy. It feels good to be with all of them.
“There’s food in the back,” Mom says. “If we’re done talking about my sex life, let’s bring it out and eat.”
“God, yes, please,” Jax begs as he walks into the kitchen. Smith and I go after him and bring out plates of burgers, salad, buns, the works. Whitney hands the baby back to Brooklyn, who puts him in his carrier, and we begin to chow down on our food.
We have two tables pushed together so we all fit at one.
I stop chewing mid-bite and look around. Fuck. Our first real family meal. All of us, together. The impact of this moment hits me hard in the chest like a punch. I know Dad would be happy to see us like this.
It took me a while, but I’ve let go of my anger with him, too. I know he wasn’t trying to hurt me and my brothers. He was protecting us in his own way. And I like to think that if he were alive, he’d tell us it was wrong, and he’d try to make it right.
Holding a grudge doesn’t get anyone anywhere. I learned that lesson.
“So, I have some news,” Smith says. He looks over at Aubrey, and she gives him an encouraging nod.
“Oh my God, you’re pregnant!” Mom cries out.
“Oh, hell no,” Smith blurts, and Jax and I cackle at his adamant tone. He flushes and looks over at Aubrey, who has a hard stare fixed on him. “Um. I mean, it’s…something we’re discussing.”
“When we’re ready,” she finishes for him. “But be have other things to think about right now.”
“Like the fact that we’ve gone over the budget, and we’re making enough money to open a second Outlaws location in the next town over. We could be a good franchise.”
“That’s awesome,” Mom says, clapping. “Your father would be ecstatic. He wanted you guys to run with the bar and make it your own.”
“The Becketts are going to take over the world,” Jax declares, holding up his beer.
I reach for my soda and lift it in the air. “To the Becketts.”
Everyone echoes my sentiments.
Suddenly, the door opening and people entering the bar has us turning to see who’s coming in when we’re supposed to be closed.
And that’s when I see our five cousins coming inside the bar, completely uninvited. Irritation and a thrill of adrenaline hit me hard.
“This is a private get-together,” I tell them in a flat tone.
“Oh, is it now?” one of them fires back at me.
Jax stands, and I do the same.
Smith does as well. “We’re not open yet,” he says easily. Of the three of us, Smith has tried the hardest to get along with our cousins. “Come back later. I’ll even give you guys a round of drinks on the house.”
But I don’t want them getting served anything at Outlaws. Personally, I still think our cousins are complete lowlifes.
Jax does, too.
There’s lots of bad blood and bad history between them and us, going back a ways. And besides that, they’re truly nasty people. Folks around Rock Bridge might think that the three Beckett Boys are rough but then they haven’t met our cousins.
Even having them here in our bar makes me start to boil. I squeeze my hands together at my sides and try to steady my breathing.
Jamison, the eldest cousin, steps forward. He has the trademark Beckett look as well, his dusky blond hair cropped short from his stint in the military. “Yeah, see, there’s just one little problem.” He rocks back on his heels and crams his hands in his pockets, his smile creeping up into a cocky smirk. “This isn’t your bar. This place belongs to us now.”
The silence that falls after Jamison speaks lasts a very long time.
And in that silence, I have the strong realization that nothing around Rock Bridge is ever going to be the same again.
THE END
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Bonus Content: What He Wants (Books 1-6) by Hannah Ford
What he Wants (What He Wants, Book One)
NOAH
I wanted to fuck her as soon as I saw her. That curvy little body was all tarted up in a tight little black dress, and those nice round tits were practically spilling out the top. Her dark hair fell in loose curls around her shoulders, and she sipped on a drink, her full pink lips pretty and pouty and just made for sucking my dick.
I sat at the bar and watched her for a while, biding my time. She was at some kind of party – bachelorette from what I could tell, and it was almost enough to put me off the whole idea. Women at bachelorette parties were a particular kind of crazy, one I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with.
A couple of blond women at the other end of the bar were staring at me, and I tried not to encourage them by making eye contact. Not that it was difficult. I couldn’t stop staring at that shapely little vixen on the other side of the room. Her dress hit just below the knee, and when she turned around, giving me a view of that gorgeous round ass, my cock got hard.
I was so transfixed that I didn’t realize one of the blondes had made her way over to me.
“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” she tried. I almost sighed out of boredom, but that was too rude, even for me.
“I doubt it,” I said, although it was entirely possible that she did know me from somewhere. Thankfully, I knew I probably hadn’t slept with her. She wasn’t my type – too blonde, too skinny, too much like a Barbie.
“No, I know I recognize you.” She motioned to her friend, another bottled blonde, to come over. “Alexa, isn’t this Noah Cutler?”
Apparently she didn’t think it would make more sense to just ask me if I was Noah Cutler. I took a sip of my drink and resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
From across the room, I watched as the curvy bombshell made her way to a table all by herself, peeling herself off from the rest of the party.
“Yes!” the blonde’s friend said. “You gave that speech at my graduation last year. I absolutely loved it.”
“I’m glad,” I lied. I didn’t give a shit if she loved my speech or not. College was bullshit, the kind of thing people thought they needed, whe
n really, I hadn’t learned anything in college that I couldn’t have learned on my own.
I drained the rest of my drink and concentrated on the brunette. She turned toward me, pushing her hair back from her face, and I was struck again by her beauty. She happened to look up just at that moment, and our eyes met.
She turned away quickly, embarrassed.
I had to have her.
And then, just like that, I saw my opening.
Some dickhead guy was making his way over to her. Jealousy and possessiveness flooded me. She was mine. And I was going to make sure I had her tonight.
“Excuse me,” I said to the blondes.
And then I went to go claim my prize.
CHARLOTTE
I saw the sexy stranger before he saw me.
He was standing in the corner of the bar, two beautiful blond women draped on his arm. One of the women was bent over, whispering something in his ear, and when she threw her head back and laughed, he glanced up and met my eye.
I quickly looked away, embarrassed that he’d caught me staring. Men like him – tall, dark hair, full lips, sexy stubble on his ruggedly handsome face –weren’t interested in women like me. Besides, I wasn’t here to meet a man. I was here for a bachelorette party.
Not that the party was anything to get too excited about. I hated parties as a rule, and bachelorette parties were a particularly heinous form of torture. Especially one where I didn’t know anyone but the bride, who was a fellow law student at Middleton University.
I thought coming to this party might help me meet some of my classmates – Cora seemed to know everyone in our class -- but all it was doing so far was reminding me how much I hated to socialize. Oh, and making me realize that Cora, even though she was engaged, apparently subscribed to the theory that whatever happened at bachelorette parties stayed at bachelorette parties, because she’d been throwing herself at different men all night. Right now she was out on the dance floor, grinding on a man wearing plaid dress pants.
I took a sip of my drink – ginger ale with cranberry, my usual, because it made me seem like I was drinking alcohol even when I wasn’t– and tried to look busy. The last thing I wanted was one of the party-goers to come over and try to drag me into their dance frenzy.
