Proposal (With the Bad Boy Book 10)

by Wanda Amard

  I tilt my head in her direction to get her going. By the time I get to the food line, Harold will already be having seconds and there will be no food left.

  “You leave your little woman with us,” Harold’s words slur as he sips from a can of beer.

  We need to flee here quicker than I’d planned if he’s already slurring.

  He slips his arm around Kimber and hugs her tightly, getting her a spot in the line in front of him. I narrow my eyes shooting death rays across the room, but he only winks and laughs at something Kimber says.

  “Don't worry about him, Vinn. He’ll be nice to your lady friend,” my sister Stacy says setting her drink down at the spot across from me at the small card table.

  “I don’t like anyone touching her.”

  She rolls her eyes like only a big sister can do. “Yes, we all know how you dislike it when people play with your toys.”

  I grind my teeth. “Kimber isn’t a toy. She's my girlfriend.” I figured someone would have shit to say.

  “She looks young enough to be Harold’s daughter.”

  “She's not that young and don't mention shit about it, Stacy. I don’t want her to be uncomfortable here.”

  “No one here will be rude to her. You can trust your family.”

  “I don't trust anyone in the family.” I’d think the older more mature ones would understand. They’ve dealt with the bullshit longer.

  Stacy sticks her fork in a scoop of macaroni and cheese — from the box… we don't get fancy even for Thanksgiving — and takes a bite.

  As everyone is piling plates and others are sitting down to start eating, the front doors of the trailer open and I’m on edge. My sister’s fists ball together and I stand up, almost knocking my chair back when a blonde head walks in the door, her seven-year-old son following.

  “What the hell is this shit?” I ask Stacy.

  Who would go behind my back and invite these two here? On fucking Thanksgiving. Heads will roll in this family if someone doesn’t confess.

  Stacy stares at Monica and her son, her eyes confused as well, shaking her head that she doesn't know.

  “Save our damn seats,” I point to the two seats Kimber and I have staked out. This is worth their potential loss.

  My mom leans against the counter in the kitchen and I stalk up to her, each step louder on the trailer floor even over the noise although a few have stopped talking, waiting to see what happens. “What the fuck are Monica and her kid doing here?”

  My mom tilts her head so she can see Monica. The she-beast of a woman takes off her coat and talks to one of my sisters-in-law sitting on the couch like she’s welcome.

  “I invited her, Vinn.”

  My mouth opens in shock and I don't whisper the words. “How in the hell could you do that to me?”

  My mother stands straight, ready to battle this out. It doesn't matter how old I am or how old she gets, she’s still my mother. “Monica's kid is part of this family even if you don't like it. You and your brother have never been good at taking responsibility for things, and I intend to be in my grandchild's life regardless of your plans to ignore him.”

  “Then you won’t be a part of my life.” I refuse to continue family holidays if she’ll be at every one.

  My mother looks as if she’s planning to pick Monica as she calmly reaches over and uses the lighter to start a new cigarette. “That's a choice you'll make, Vinn. But don't walk in my house and talk trash to me. My family is everyone here, and I love you even though you’re constantly fucking up.”

  That’s how she sees it?

  I guess at least the truth is out.

  Chapter Four

  Kimber

  You and your brother. Vinn’s mother's words echo in my brain as I take a seat at the small card table next to another woman. The one who took the pie from me earlier.

  “Hi, I'm Stacy.” She reaches her hand over to shake mine and somehow, I remember how in my dazed state.

  “Kimber.”

  “I sat here so you wouldn’t have to sit by any other assholes.”

  I laugh — grateful she's trying to make me feel better but also worried at least a few of them really are assholes. The way Vinn’s brother Harold whispered in my ear to give him a sign if Vinn had kidnapped me and I needed to call the police doesn't seem quite as funny after how Vinn shot daggers at him. What is it that Vinn and his brother have trouble taking responsibility for? Which brother? Because without Vinn giving me an explanation, I'm pretty sure the dark-haired boy that walked in the trailer directly after Monica is who this revolves around.

  The boy looks nothing like his mother so I can only imagine he looks exactly like his father. Vinn and the boy are so much alike, the same colored eyes — a deep honey brown hair. Even their noses come down at the same angle and their chin formed at the exact same way. I'd pretend they were dominate family traits, but those only belong to Vinn when I peek around the living room.

  Why does he look so much like Vinn? Why is Vinn so mad that the boy is here?

  It’s not just his hair color or the shape of his face. I swear the kid moves similarly to Vinn. He’s seven or eight years old, but he's tall like Vinn and he's comfortable in his body, walking with confidence even into a room full of adults. He didn’t flinch when everyone stopped to stare. I would have run away at his age. Heck I still want to run away.

  What if Vinn lied and Monica's child is his? What other explanation could there be?

  The questions swirl around in my head as I do my best to at least pretend like I'm eating food even though every bite rolls in my stomach, threatening to come back up and land on Stacy’s plate. By the time Vinn is down in the chair across from me, he scowls at his sister and then smiles in my direction. But there's something off about it. It's too… smiley. Vinn doesn’t ever smile so large. He’s forcing it.

  A small cacophony of voices starts up as the family eats and also talks with one another. Stacy and Vinn complain about their mother and the fact she didn't make green bean casserole this year. I'm content to smile and nod whenever asked a direct question, but that’s about it. After a few minutes pass, it feels like everyone has had their first round and a few stand up for seconds, but most of my food is still on my plate.

  I swallow down another spoonful of macaroni and cheese and hope I don't embarrass us by making a mad dash to the bathroom and one hell of a family introduction. I've done my best not to get caught looking, but my eyes haven't strayed far from Monica or her child for the entire meal. There's an empty seat at our table, but when Monica headed in this direction, the look Vinn gave her made her cross to the other side of the room. She sat at the couch with her kid sitting on the floor.

  What man wouldn’t invite his kid to Thanksgiving dinner? Or be happy he’s here. Even acknowledge him.

  Two of the siblings’ voices carry over the others and almost automatically everyone else quiets.

  “Tell them the bad news already. I need dessert.” The man next to Harold talks loudly, getting everyone’s attention.

  He stands up as if he's calling the room to attention. “Tricia's not here this year because we’re getting divorced,” he says the words flat matter-of-factly. No one in the family says anything but they quickly go back to their food after nods of acceptance. It must not have been a shocking revelation to anyone here.

  “Good because we’ll need the space for Kimber,” Stacy shouts. “If everyone keeps popping out kids like this, we won’t have any room left.”

  Most people laugh. “The only one who doesn’t is Vinn.” Harold laughs and points in our direction. “Vinn must be ready to put something in Kimber if he's bringing her to Thanksgiving dinner.”

  Their mother sits next to Harold, and slaps his arm. “Don't be vulgar at Thanksgiving.”

  “Vinn’s always been one to move quickly,” Monica says loudly from her seat on the couch, turning to stare Vinn in the eyes. “He asked me to marry him on the third date.”

  Vinn’s eyes fl
ash in anger and he his stabs his fork into his food looking as if he’d rather reach across the room and strangle her. He might not be the only one.

  Everyone else laughs as if it’s common knowledge, but it's news to me. Very new to me.

  Monica's words seem to tumble through the air and then head straight for me, landing in my chest like a knife. Vinn has been engaged? To her?

  What the hell happened between them?

  I refuse to cry at his family’s table, so I swallow hard, threatening my eyes if they even produced a tear they’re in trouble. Still, I drop my head to my plate and focus on my food hoping the faster I eat the sooner we can get out of here.

  I'm the only one in the house who doesn't know whatever story is going on with Monica. I've begged Vinn to tell the truth, but he refuses to do so and now I’m alarmed.

  “Who invited you anyway?” Stacy yells at Monica after she pats me on the hand to ease my distress. “Haven’t you done enough damage to the family?”

  Monica stands up and Stacy does too. She reaches down and takes the butter knife from the black card table, whipping it in Monica's direction. The knife sails through the air, but loses momentum and hits the back of the couch.

  Monica screams. “Did you see her try to kill me?”

  And then all together, as if it’s a coordinated dance, the adults stand. A glass dish breaks somewhere close to the main table and a beer gets thrown in our direction, but Vinn hits it out of the air before it reaches Stacy or me.

  “Why the hell is it always someone?” Vinn’s mom screams over the ruckus. Vinn latches on to my hand and my eyes are wild, wondering what will get thrown next. Brothers and sisters yell at one another and lob insults. The kids in the family keep eating as if this is a normal occurrence. They aren’t even trying to take cover. Vinn shakes his head in disgust and leads me right through the mass of people and out the front door, not slowing.

  “What about my apple pie?” I ask as he pulls me all the way to his car, puts my stunned body in the passenger seat, and locks the doors after getting in.

  “I’ll buy you another damn dish,” he says starting up the car and pulling out of the trailer park, not even bothering to check back at whatever it is we left at his childhood home.

  Chapter Five

  Vinn

  One fucking holiday — that's all I wanted. One holiday.

  “Should we go back and make sure everyone's okay?” Kimber asks tugging on my sleeve as I practically squeal tires getting the hell away from my family. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  Fuck that. I'm leaving them to their own damn devices. That's what my mother gets for inviting the whore to a family Thanksgiving. What was she thinking? I never believed my own mother would betray me so deeply.

  “Hell no. Kimber I'm still on probation. I don't know how in the hell I got off with your dad almost shooting me with a gun, but I won’t press my luck again.” I wouldn’t be near the house when the cops show.

  “But what about your sister? She's nice.”

  I nod. Stacy is the one sibling I haven’t wanted to murder over the years. She came to visit the most in prison — six trips in five years, a better average than anyone else.

  “Trust me. Stacy can handle her own. Her husband doesn’t come anymore because three years ago my brother Harold accused him of touching his wife and he hit Harold so hard he had to go the emergency room for a broken cheekbone.”

  Harold is not a bad brother to have, but once he gets drinking, he can be a real asshole and none of us were that upset about his visit to the ER. He threatened to press charges against Stacy's husband, but we talked him out of it and he's refused to come ever since. Smart man if you ask me. Even Stacy probably only came to meet Kimber.

  Kimber rubs my knee with her hand and it does little to calm my nerves. I never wanted her to see my family that way, but deep down inside I always guessed they’d show their true colors. It's why I kept her away for so long.

  It's also why I want to work so hard to make sure we don't fall into the same trap. If not for the bond I feel for a few my siblings, I’d cut them all off. But my mother is my mother and my family is my family. However, I plan do my absolute best to mitigate how much my children are around anyone with my DNA.

  We ride in silence until I pull into the Fabulous Acres Trailer Park wanting nothing more than to get this day over with. Maybe watch the Lions lose to someone on their Thanksgiving Day game. Some constants in my life I look forward to every year. My family’s holiday behavior and a losing football team. If I play my cards right, hopefully I can guarantee Kimber’s mouth on my dick as a third.

  “Promise me, we’ll never let that become our lives,” I plead with her as I park in the carport.

  She squeezes my leg. “I promise. First, I'm not having six kids and second I’ll make sure ours have better aim.” My sister always did throw for shit.

  I laugh and lean over the center console to kiss her on the cheek. She turns her head in time. “God, I love you,” I say when we pull apart.

  Kimber's eyes shine. “I think that's the first time you’ve said that to me.”

  “Really?” I search my memory, but come up empty. “From now on, I’ll tell you every day. You have the best pussy I've ever seen and I love it.”

  She rolls her eyes and hits me on the shoulder. “And there you go again ruining the moment.”

  “What do you mean I’m ruining it?” I ask as she gets out of the car, my family's feud left behind for us both. “That's what every man wants.”

  “What every woman wants is a man who loves her for who she is,” Kimber says as I open the trailer door.

  “Yeah, I love you for all those reasons too.”

  She shakes her head. “But mostly for the pussy?”

  I smirk and my balls grow tight. Holy fuck who knew it would be so hot for my woman to use that word. “Say it again,” I coax as she walks backward toward our bedroom.

  “Pussy,” she says drawing the word out with a smile.

  “I would definitely remember if you ever said that word. It’s hot. Say fuck.”

  She laughs. “Vinn.”

  “Say it,” I demand as she walks backward into the bedroom.

  “Fuck.” She basically whispers the word, laughing as she finishes.

  Her knees connect to the side of the bed. “Now say fuck me.”

  She shakes her head, but listens. “Fuck me,” she says with more pizzazz than my original command. She’s being feisty but I like it.

  I undo the button at the top of her jeans. “Now say, Vinn, fuck me.”

  She laughs having figured out where this is going. “Vinn, fuck me.”

  “My pleasure.” One quick push to her shoulder and Kimber tumbles back into the bed, her eyes wide as she bounces off the mattress.

  I pull her jeans off her hips, not bothering to unzip them, and throw them in the room behind me.

  “You said you wanted to watch the football game because Thanksgiving was a day to spend with losers.”

  I lower my head and sniff her underwear, pulling in the perfect scent that is nothing more than Kimber. “Plans change. I've decided today I'm going to make myself a winner.”

  She widens her legs. “How do you plan to do that?” she asks as I trail a finger on the edge of her panties and twist, pulling them down.

  “I plan to screw you and then turn the game on in the bedroom, watch the Lions lose, and then have more sex to feel better about it.”

  “That's a detailed plan. Have you been figuring it out for a while?” she asks, but her questions stop when my tongue grabs its first taste of her wet pussy. Her knees come together and I use two hands to pull them apart. My cock swells inside my jeans, pushing to get out, and I quickly undo them letting them fall to the floor. I figured it would take a few minutes to prime Kimber so she’s ready to take my throbbing shaft, but her lips glisten, begging for me to take her.

  With her legs thrown over the bed, I pull on her knees to position her
just right and push through her folds. It only takes three pumps until she’s accepted all of me and I glide between her thighs.

  “Vinn,” she moans.

  “Gotcha, baby,” I rub circles over her clit and stare down at our two bodies joined together in the edge of the mattress. Her hips move her ass higher trying to get a better position. My balls draw close and I know I'm getting ready to blow. All of it will be inside her tonight.

  “Fuck, Kimber, I can't wait until one day I can put a baby in you.” The thought of my seed making the start of a new life with Kimber is something I never thought I’d want with a woman, but with Jailbait it's different. I want to keep screwing her until the trailer is full.

  “I'm not having a baby yet,” she says, her eyes closed and her head thrown back, taking everything I give.

  Her shirt covers her tits and I pull it up, exposing her bra as my dick jerks inside her body.

  “Fuck the damn pill. You need to stop taking those.” The sooner I can get Kimber pregnant, the sooner I can make her mine. As I drive into her body, the raw need consumes me — to make her mine, to give her a way so we’re always connected and she can never be rid of me. Our life. Together.

  Kimber pulls off the bed sheets in her ecstasy, her hands grasping as my balls tingle and work their way to my dick. I flick her clit one last time harder, and she screams, her pussy clenching against me and drawing my own release. My balls climb up and thick hot jets of cum shoot filling her. The sounds of sex reverberate around the room along with a smell that is the two of us.

  “Fuck, I love you,” I groan as the last of my release leaves me. I've never meant those three words more than I do right then. Life with Kimber will be new and perfect. We won't allow the drama of our previous lives and families to interfere. This woman is everything to me and I plan to be everything to her. I’ll tuck myself so far up Kimber she can't see anything without me in it.