At Last

by Sarah Zolton Arthur

  My mouth waters from the fucking fantastic aroma of smoked pork wafting through the vents of the truck. A glance over to Doc, I watch her eyes glaze over and a smile spread across her face. Then I run my thumb along her chin. “Got a little drool there,” I tease.

  Before she comes to her senses, I switch off the engine and have the backdoor open, unbuckling Jade from her booster. “Hey Peaches, you hungry?” I ask softly.

  “Badass biker Duke Ellis cooed at my daughter,” Caitlin mumbles under her breath. God damn, it turns me on when I stump her.

  That’s when Jade snuggles down to answer. “Yeah,” she says. Though she says it through a yawn.

  “Good sweetheart, you like mac and cheese?”

  She nods against my cut.

  “Because they make the best mac and cheese here.” I shut the door and beep the locks, joining Doc, my hand to the space between her shoulder blades, I glide it down to rest against the small of her back. Then give a little push to get her moving. I only remove my hand to open the door for my girls to pass through then drop it back into my claiming spot to steer us over to the counter where today’s menu is written on a whiteboard in green marker.

  Every dish comes à la carte.

  “I’ll have the pulled pork. Mac and cheese. The greens, and the sweet potato-marshmallow casserole. Then we’ll both have the lemonade to drink.” Caitlin gives her order. Then she winces. “That’s not too much, is it? I don’t want to overstep.”

  Her words, whispered like a secret not meant for anyone else’s ears, pisses me right the hell off.

  “Overstep?” I grumble. What’s with her throwing that shit my way? Make me look cheap. “You want twice as much, you order. Don’t ever ask that again.”

  “Sorry,” she says to me, then turns to look at the teenage girl behind the counter. “It appears I’ve pissed him off. He’s not cheap. I don’t even know why I asked that.” Her thoughts spill from her mouth in a rambled flow, and it’ cute enough for me to feel the anger begin to ease up.

  “Except for—” She uses her eyes to point to Jade, laying her fingertips rest on the counter, and leans her body way in for the counter girl to hear when she drops her voice. The poor counter girl looks confused but keeps her mouth shut. Which I wish Doc would do. But no. She goes on. “Her… um… father.” She mouths ‘father’, no sound. “He was the last man I was with and he always told me I overstepped, that I took advantage of his generosity.”

  You’ve got to be fucking shitting me? Cute be damned. An unexpected rage burns through the cute, reigniting the anger and amping it. I grab hold of her arm, trying best I can to control my barely controlled temper. My ears fill with it thumping against my eardrums. My eyes, blinded by it.

  She looks scared. Last thing I need is for her to be scared of me, so I turn her into me. “Honey.” I grit through my teeth, then gentle as possible, kiss her to show my anger’s on her behalf, and to hold my tongue because I still got Peaches in my arms.

  I suck in a long breath to calm myself, hold it, and then slowly breathe it out. Some head-shrink taught me that technique years ago to deal with my anger from Dawna’s illness. Apparently, it works for listening to a woman I’m coming to care about relate a shit situation with an asshole ex, too. Good to know.

  After we pull apart and I place my order, I hand Peaches over to her. “Get us a table.” I direct her with a push over to the seating area.

  “Overbearing man,” she mumbles. “You could at least say please.” And there she is. My sassy Doc back, not scared. And not moving. Instead she looks me dead in the eyes and repeats the word, “Please.”

  Fuck if I don’t have to turn my head away, dropping my chin to break off eye contact, in an attempt, albeit a failed attempt, to keep from laughing. “Please?”

  “Yes, you forgot to say it. As in, ‘get us a table, please.’”

  “Manews awe impowtent, Duke.” Jade corrects me, and damn if it ain’t just as cute as her mama.

  I stop trying to contain my laughter, since with these two, I know now it ain’t ever gonna work. “Please take Peaches to get a table.” This gets me a cheek kiss from both my girls at the same time. Each taking a cheek.

  Cute.

  7.

  Caitlin

  With Jade in my arms, I walk over to a booth covered in brown butcher paper for a tablecloth. Two white squeeze bottles of a red, tomato-based barbeque sauce and one white squeeze bottle of a vinegar-based barbeque sauce, a squeeze bottle of specifically Heinz yellow mustard, Heinz ketchup, salt and pepper shakers, and a napkin dispenser sit at the end of the table closest to the wall.

  Jade begins to rearrange all the bottles, giving them voices as if playing with dolls until Duke shows up at the table with a tray of white Styrofoam to-go boxes and three paper cups, two large and one small, all with plastic lids and straws. He sets the small one in front of Jade, a large one in front of me, and a large one across the table from me.

  Then he opens up the first box, handing it off to me. The second, he sets in his spot, and the third, he opens and sets in front of my daughter. Each to-go box has a plastic fork and knife rolled in a white, paper napkin inside, resting on top of the least messy entrée.

  Duke glides into his spot and immediately digs in to his meal.

  The linoleum has cracks. The dingy walls could have used a new paint job about ten years ago, but hands down, my new man has brought us to the best barbeque I’ve ever eaten in my life.

  And he watches my mouth chew and swallow every bite I take. It’s as unnerving as it is sensual. With each of his bites, sauce clings to his overly shaggy mustache and some drips onto his goatee, saucing some of the silver hairs red. Far from what should be considered sexy, I can’t help the urge to lick every drop off his face. But as my little girl is here, that urge gets checked pretty quickly. I’m doomed with this man if I’m finding his messy beard sexy. It’s sauce. Sauce isn’t sexy.

  After I ball up my napkin and toss it in the box, he collects all our trash to throw away, and we leave to take on Nashville.

  We drink in every family-friendly sight Nashville has to offer. The Adventure Science Center. I thought we were going to have to take up residence in one of the interactive exhibits the way Jade fought us leaving, which she only relented because Duke whispered something in her ear. What he whispered quickly became apparent when he led us to the largest candy store I’d ever laid eyes on. It put Willy Wonka to shame. And my daughter reacted like, well, like a kid in a candy store. Duke was next to her the entire time, her partner in crime, filling bag after bag.

  They got candy, I got coffee. Eventually. After we walked off our food truck dinners, we made our way to the Starbucks for Frappuccinos. The icy drink went down smooth, a nice reprieve from the Tennessee heat. Though Duke is a badass, manly biker, and apparently manly bikers don’t drink cold coffee drinks, as I found when he ordered his Grande Americano. At my eyebrow raise, he shook his head and uttered one word. “No.”

  Pit stop over, we took on Nashville again.

  The lights of the city brighten the streets. The sky has purpled from the sun setting. We stop, I think our last stop of the day, in front of a street corner cowboy crooning out a country song, just him and his guitar. I’m not much for country music, but the guy has talent… and then there’s the ambiance.

  Jade has her arms wrapped around Duke’s thigh, leaning into it. And he has a hand resting on her shoulder. He drapes his other arm around my shoulders, and pulls me close, dropping a kiss to my temple.

  Tucked in his arms, we look like a family. I feel like a family. Aiden never made us feel like a family. I guess because he’d already started up with the woman from Australia. He never wanted to go on any family adventures, and rarely went with us for the obligatory ‘he’s her father so he should be there’ appointments. But here’s Duke, not her father, treating us as a family. The kind of family I always wanted for my daughter.

  Those are exactly the kinds of thoughts I shouldn’t b
e having so early on with the man. I’m torn. Torn because I have to look out for Jade, but I don’t want to alienate Duke if this really turns out to be something between us.

  It’s time to get going back home when Jade begins to drag her feet every step. Duke, who’s been holding her hand the whole way, scoops her up into his arms, and grabbing a hold of my hand, tows me behind him.

  We don’t head back to the parking lot where he’d parked the truck. Instead, he walks us down to the crosswalk to cross the major thoroughfare, and back up the sidewalk to a towering, semi-fancy hotel, pushing me through the automatic double doors, then right up to the reception desk where he pulls a credit card from his wallet—connected to his belt loop by a thick chain—to buy us a room for the night.

  Duke stops in the gift shop to buy Jade a little Nashville nightgown, pink with a Stetson hat and an acoustic guitar on the front, and I add a package of pink, princess pull-ups. Jade can be a hard sleeper when she’s really exhausted, and with all the walking we’ve done today, she’s exhausted. Which means as a precaution, she wears the pull-up.

  Up the elevator lined with rich, dark wood and forest green-gold thick-striped paper, we stop on the fifth floor, turning left from where we’ve stepped off. And we move down a hallway, again of rich, dark wood. But the walls had been papered in a gold with pinstripes of forest green. Gold sconces for the light fixtures, gold kick plates on every door along with gold door handles.

  Seven rooms down from the elevator, we reach ours. Duke swipes the key card. The light flashes green, and he pushes open the door to an amazing hotel room. Unlike the greens and golds of the hallway and elevator, we’re met with lush creams and copper along with the dark wood. Only one bed, a king. But the room has a pullout sofa. Which after locking up, I walk over to pull out, tossing the cushions on the floor in front of a circular, dark wood table holding a lamp and the obligatory hotel room service menu.

  He lays Jade down on the mattress. I remove her clothing, drape her nightgown down over her body, where the hem hangs to her little calves, and then help her out of her star panties and into a pull-up.

  Once I tuck my girl in, I lay down next to her. Jade is out before her head hits the pillow. Right as I close my eyes, I feel myself being lifted and open them back up to see Duke’s stunning silver-gray eyes meeting mine. He carries me to the big bed where he drops me and proceeds to strip my shorts down my legs.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper-yell.

  “Getting you naked,” he grumble-whispers as if the idea should have been common knowledge.

  “I can’t get naked with you here.” Being a mom, I’ve mastered the whisper. This being a panicked whisper. “She’s in the room with us.”

  “She’s sound asleep, Doc. Ain’t nothing waking her up.” He’s probably right, but I can’t tell him that because it will only encourage him to strip me more.

  “We can’t here.”

  “Honey, I need to taste you again. Need it.”

  Oh damn. I want him to do that, too. What that man did to me in my living room was nothing short of magical. My magic man. “Let’s go in the bathroom.” I offer as an alternative.

  “Fuck no. First time I have you, I want you in a bed, not pushed up against a wall or on the floor like we’re a couple ’a teenagers.”

  “Well how about you taste me, that is… um… put your mouth on me, and I’ll return the favor?”

  “I’ll give you that. But when we get home, you and I hit a bed. Peaches has friends or day care, or wherever the fuck she goes. We’ll pick her up when we’re done.”

  I start to nod but—oof—my gut hits his shoulder because he throws me over it and clomps softly into the bathroom. The motion sensor light flicks on when we enter, and he sets my bottom to the sink’s vanity, intent on making me lose my panties. But I want to give him his first, and so I slide off and drop down to my knees while at the same time, go after the buckle on his belt. I undo the button, pull the zipper, and tug his jeans to just below his hips.

  Thankfully, Duke is not the kind of man to bother with boxers or briefs. He stands tall and proud, thick and beautiful in front of my face. Something I’d known about him since close to my first visit to the clubhouse. Having seen the outline on several occasions over the past year, when he’d been turned on by one of the pieces, shortened from pieces of ass, because that’s exactly what they are. Women who show up to the club for sex. They aren’t anybody’s girlfriend, showing up on weekends and party nights for a good time.

  The pieces shouldn’t be confused with the hot mamas who live semi-permanently at the clubhouse. They cook and clean, and take care of the brothers who live there in exchange for that place to stay. And again, they have sex with the brothers. Somehow, it always comes down to sex with the brothers.

  Dammit, now all I can think about are pieces and hot mamas, and I don’t want to think about either. Because they’ve had a lot of sex, and me? I haven’t gone down on a man in so long, and I know he’s used to the professional talents those girls have to offer.

  Bad time to face a bout of insecurity and nerves. But I’m here. I’m doing this. After I suck in a few deep breaths and release them slowly to try to calm the bubbling anxiety, I wrap my hand around his base and suck in something else, until my lips hit my hand. He’s huge. Bigger than he looked before I took him in my mouth. My eyes water to the point I have to squeeze them tight and try not to gag.

  I will my throat muscles to relax. It’s easier to do than I thought it would be, the way Duke sifts his fingers through the back of my hair, massaging my scalp as he does. I melt into his touch and begin to suck and lick like I’m enjoying the best melty popsicle of my life. With my other hand, I gently massage his balls. Our noises, the pop from the suction, my little mewls and purrs, and Duke’s much louder grunts, not to mention his much, much louder “Oh fuck me” and “Fucking fuck me, honey” fill the small room, spurring me on.

  As I chance a look up, his eyes are closed, head tipped back, ecstasy written over every feature of his face. He locks his arms straight, hands holding the edge of the vanity to keep himself standing when his knees begin to buckle. Is this something that happens every time he gets a blowjob or does he really enjoy it that much?

  The muscles of his abdomen pull tight. I know what that means. Though even if I didn’t, the “Doc, honey,” he grumbles and the way his fingers go from gripping the vanity to grabbing a fist full of hair, warns me he’s close. I’ve never done what I’m considering before, but know men like it, and I don’t want Duke to miss his skanky pieces, so instead of pulling away, when he growls a second, more forceful, “Doc, honey—”

  I ask, “Are you clean?”

  “What the fuck?” he grunts.

  “Are you clean?” I ask again.

  “Fuck honey, yeah. I’m fucking clean.” On the word clean, he lets go hard and long, my mouth on a down glide. And I swallow. Some dribbles down my chin, but I keep up the swallow and don’t quit sucking until I’ve milked every drop from him. Every drop.

  His chest heaves heavy and rapid as he stares down at me, eyes glistening—still hot, but full of something else. Something… beautiful? I don’t know what to do with such a look. It’s satisfaction, longing, appreciation and even peacefulness, with maybe a few others mixed in there. But from my position on my knees, on the floor, those are what I can pick out. No man that I can remember—even Aiden, especially Aiden—ever looked at me with that expression before.

  Wearing an open reverence, his eyes glisten with it, lines around those glistening eyes crinkle with it. Duke pulls me up to stand in front of him, one hand he brings to rest on my hip, stroking his thumb back and forth lightly along the bare skin between my shirt and panties. For such a simple act, it’s almost too much for me to handle.

  He turns to pluck a tissue from the tissue dispenser then shifts back to wipe the dribble from my chin. His mouth descends until it covers mine.

  Hell yeah.

  Oh, hell yeah.


  He touches the tip of his tongue to the tip of mine, a move done so tenderly, I melt into him. In response, he glides his hands up to rest at the hem of my Tee and takes the kiss deeper, so much more than the tongue touch. A kiss I feel down to the tips of my toes. We support each other, my arms around his neck, his around my waist.

  Duke twists and backs me up to lean against the vanity, the place he’d been only minutes before.

  Not once this morning, not once did I think I’d end the day in a swanky hotel in Nashville. Especially not after I crashed my Jeep, especially not with this man, my ‘old man’. He hitches my leg around his hip, moving one hand from my waist to slip into the leg hole of my panties, through the folds of silky wetness, where he zeros in on the spot. Not a direct hit, because he’s not trying to hit it, circling my clit, teasing me with the light pressure. I can already begin to feel my body tense up in the best way.

  Then because this is my life, there’s a tapping on the door followed by a, “Mama? I gowtta potty,” in a tired little girl voice. I tear my lips away from Duke’s, laughing not because it’s funny, but because I’m so turned on its either laugh or cry. And while I help him do up his jeans, pin him with a ‘see, I told you’ glare. The very reason I wouldn’t let him take me in that fluffy, king-size bed.

  When I open the door, she has her little fist rubbing the sleepiness from her eyes, and she turns her head from Duke to me. “Why you in the bafwoom wiff my mom, Duke?”

  His hands rest back on my hips, lightly biting his fingers into the flesh there. It’s claiming, even if only to a four-year-old. “Your mom and I were talking, Peaches. And we didn’t want to wake you up.”

  “Okay.” She readily accepts his excuse. “But I weally gowtta potty.”

  Duke and I move at the same time, he stops for me to go out first, following closely behind. Jade pushes past us and snaps the door shut.

  “So you mighta been right,” he says. “Don’t know how I’m supposed to return the favor now.” His silver-gray eyes dart to the bathroom, then back to me, face showing clearly thanks to the nightlight I’d left on for Jade, for that exact reason. In case she needed to use the bathroom or a drink.