Mr. Control

by Maya Hughes

  “Mel, you were always in our hearts. Always. Not being able to see you was the hardest thing we’ve ever gone through in our lives. We were about thirty seconds from going to jail after trying to track you down and get you back. We hoped that one day when you were ready you’d come to us. That you’d come back home,” she said, her voice cracking. I squeezed her hands on my shoulders and glanced back at her, tears gathering in her eyes again.

  “I’m glad I came back,” I hesitated. She’d always been my mom in my mind, but to say it out loud. “Mom,” I said, turning to her. Her tears spilled over then and her sobs rang out in the hall as she wrapped her arms around me and swayed us back and forth. Her tears gathered on my neck, and mine did the same on hers. Pulling back, she ran her hand along my face, pushing my hair back. The smile on her face could have lit a stadium for months and I knew that because I wore the same one.

  “You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear you call me that, Mel. The daughter of my heart,” she said, gathering me up in her arms again. I glanced over at Esme and Rhys. Esme’s face was a mask of concern.

  “Don’t worry, kiddo. These are happy tears,” I said, laughing. Rhys produced a stack of tissues for the two of us. Mom told me all about the other kids who’d joined their family over the years. Some lived with them for years, while others were only there for a few weeks or months. Each one had a place on their wall.

  “So, who are you, young man?” Ben asked, getting all paternal on Rhys. But Rhys was a good sport.

  “I’m Rhys Thayer, sir,” he said, holding out his hand.

  “Oh wow, I’ve heard of you. But don’t think that lets you off the hook for the grilling that’s coming your way about our Mel,” he said, shaking Rhys’s hand.

  “Ben,” I said, embarrassed, like any girl would be bringing a guy home to her dad. The pangs in my chest were hitting harder and harder now. These were my parents. They’d done more for me in the short time I’d been with them than they could ever know.

  We spent the rest of the day eating, laughing and hanging out at the house. It wasn’t until later that night in the hotel that I finally took a breath. Esme was asleep in her own room in the suite and Rhys sat up against the headboard holding me in his arms, as I reminisced about the entire day and how far we’d come from our first meeting.

  “If you’d told me a year ago, I’d be here with you after introducing you to my parents, I’d have laughed myself into a coma,” I said, rubbing my hands over his forearms. Their warm, heavy weight helped keep me focused on this moment, on how lucky I was.

  “Then I’m definitely glad I didn’t tell you a year ago. I’m not into the whole sleeping beauty, unconscious woman thing,” he said, into my ear, giving me a nip on the ear. “And since we’re already in family expansion mode, what do you think about getting started on a new addition?” he asked, squeezing me tighter.

  I glanced over my shoulder at him.

  “Are you sure? We haven’t even been married a year.” I didn’t want to rush things. We had all the time in the world and I didn’t know the first thing about babies. Esme, I could handle, she could be reasoned with. How in the world was I supposed to be a good parent to a baby?

  “You’ll be a wonderful mother. You already are to Esme. And the fact that I don’t have you pregnant already is only by sheer force of will, and the fact that I knew you needed time. So, what do you say? Do you want to make a baby with me?” he asked, his eyes filled with so much joy and love it took my breath away. How could I say anything but YES! to a man who looked at me like that?

  I nodded and that was all it took before he growled and flipped me over, so I sat in his lap.

  “How do you want it, Mel?” he said, his cock pressing heavy against my panties.

  “Any way you want me. I know how much you love to be in control,” I said, licking his lips and grinding myself on his lap. I moaned and he grabbed my ass, squeezing my cheeks as he pressed me down harder on him. His fingers danced across my clit, rubbing it through my underwear. I slid my hands around his neck and up into his hair, devouring his mouth and breathing him in all at once. He lifted me up, slid the crotch of my panties aside and slammed me down on his cock so hard, it took my breath away and I came, my legs shaking, biting into his shoulder to muffle my screams.

  He only slowed for a second to let me catch my breath before he lifted me and thrust into me at the same time, driving my pleasure higher and higher. I could tell it would be a long night and I wasn’t going to complain one bit. I’d hold on and relish this wild ride. One that only he could create. He’d give me more than I could have imagined. A home. A life where I mattered. A family. It was everything I’d ever been afraid to hope for and it was all laid out in front of me now.

  God, I loved this man.

  If that’s not enough of Rhys and Mel, you can get another speak peek of them in the extended epilogue. Click HERE to get one more day with them!

  Afterword

  I wanted to take a moment to acknowledge all of the amazing families out there who can take a special role in a child’s life as foster parents. So many times we hear the worst about the system, but there are some truly amazing families who do everything they can to welcome children in need into their homes and hearts.

  For more information on how you can change a child’s life and become a foster parent, visit the U.S. Department of Health & Human Services to find out about the process in your state.

  Acknowledgments

  Sitting down at my keyboard and writing are only a small part of what it takes to create a book. Rhys and Mel have lived in my head for a long time, so I’d like to thank the following people for their help in bringing these characters to life.

  My husband for wrangling the kids, so I could grab a little down time here and there to gather my thought and type away.

  To my editors, Tamara, Bex and Donna, you are an amazing team and I can’t wait to work with you over and over until you’re sick and tired of me!

  To LJ at Mayhem Cover Creations for my kickass cover, you are so patient, especially when I have you tweaking things down to the wire :)

  To my readers, thank you for reading my books. Thank you for the emails and messages telling me how much you love my characters and I’m so looking forward to bringing you even more amazing ones in the days, months and years to come!

  Lots of love,

  Mx

  Also by Maya Hughes

  Blinded - Second Chance Secret Baby Romance

  Mixed - Enemies to Lovers Romance

  Served - Enemies to Lovers Romance

  Rocked - Rockstar Romance

  Passion on the Pitch - Sports Romance

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  https://www.mayahughes.com/

  maya@mayahughes.com

  Sneak Peek at Rocked

  Chapter 1 - Keira

  The sound of charcoal scraping across a newly stretched canvas always brought Keira back to her first days in the art studio. She’d been so unsure then, with her sketch pad tucked under her arm. She’d left her camera back at home, that was where she felt comfortable, behind the lens, but she wanted to tackle a new challenge and her mother didn’t believe her talents should be wasted capturing scenes, but through creating them. A keen, longing hit her dead center in the chest as she thought about her mother. It had been two years since she passed and nearly that long since she’d put her camera down, except for the rarest of occasions.

  She glanced up at the clock.

  “Ok
ay, everyone, it looks like our time has come to an end. I wanted to thank our model, Jaxon, for agreeing to pose for us today.” Everyone clapped as Jaxon shrugged his robe back on, with a dramatic bow. The class wrapped up with students packing away their materials. He’d been a good subject, not too much movement, hadn’t needed a break and he hadn’t gotten a boner, which you wouldn’t think would be an issue when you’re standing in front of twenty art students, but surprisingly, it happened. A lot.

  When it happened, after the shock wore off for everyone, she redirected the students to focus on the form, not necessarily the function of the human anatomy. But some made it difficult with their impressive…displays. Thankfully, that hadn’t been an issue today. He tied his robe and waved to the class before departing. He worked as a backup dancer, but didn’t have any tours lined up, so his physique had gotten a few women and some men in the class a bit hot and bothered. She can’t say she didn’t take a couple of longer glances herself, but he wasn’t her type. He was just way too perfect from his bright white pearly teeth to the way his hair looked like it had never been mussed in his life.

  “Thank you everyone for a great semester. I’m sure you’re all anxious to know if there will be summer classes.” Keira was anxious as well and hadn’t heard anything from the department yet. “But we still won’t know for a little bit longer. You’re all on the class mailing list, so they’ll send you any updates about summer courses. It was great working with all of you this spring and I hope to see your art up in a gallery someday.”

  The class clapped as they finished gathering things and gave her hugs and wished her well for the summer break. The end of these classes hit her with mixed emotions. Bittersweet because it was another group moving on and amazing to see the progress so many of them made. A lot of people thought they’d never be able to draw, let alone create the artwork they could accomplish by the end of the term. The adult community classes held a special place in her heart. It was always humbling to be a part of someone discovering their passion for art. The students filed out of the class and Keira checked the room over to make sure everything was in order. She turned out the lights and closed the door on another semester.

  Keira had discovered her passion when she was five years old. Scribbling on your math homework instead of solving the problems meant a one-way ticket to the thinking chair. But her teacher had seen something in her art and encouraged her to use it whenever she could, just not on her math homework. Drawing, painting and photography became her best friends throughout school. Going to college for art had probably been a mistake. She should have majored in something useful like finance or computer science, but those never held her attention. Plus, she sucked at math.

  Unlike a lot of her friends who’d graduated and went on to give up on their art, even in the few years since graduation, she had landed this community art class gig. It sure beat being a receptionist at a gallery or something like that. At least, she could help others create and sometimes carve out a little time for herself to create a few pieces of her own. Pieces that were almost sure never to see the light of day. She checked her mailbox in the office. A single white envelope sat inside. Hands shaking, she picked it up and shoved it into her bag.

  Nothing like getting a letter determining whether or not you’ll be able to eat this summer on the last day of class. She jumped into her car and hightailed it back to her apartment.

  This was not a letter to open on campus. She could see it now, full time instructors and worse tenured professors taking pity on her, if the classes had indeed been cut as the rumor mill was saying. It sucked not having a steady gig, but if you weren’t producing art there were limited choices for an art major. The thought of trying for another gallery show turned her stomach. The last experience had left a sour taste in her mouth and probably permanently stunted her artistic growth.

  Nothing like an ex to not only break your heart, but ruin something you’d once been passionate about. Teaching others art came naturally, but the showing part, that was where the gnawing pit of uncertainty reared its ugly head and made her want to crawl under a rock. She had a bit gallery opening scheduled last winter with her ex, Paulo, also showing his sculptures. They were both abuzz with excitement over it, that lightheaded feeling rushing to her whenever she dropped off another set of prints. While her mother never approved of her photography, it always held a special place in her heart. Her dad gave her the first camera she ever used and she still had it to this day. She’d taken the pictures for the gallery with that camera. She’d even taken off the winter semester of community class instructing to make sure that she’d have everything finished in time. She’d finally be a featured artist in a major gallery opening.

  Then things started to fall apart with Paulo and she found out the reason she’d been included in the show to begin with. It wasn’t because they admired her talent, it was out of freaking pity. After a particularly nasty fight, where he’d had way too much to drink, he’d thrown it right in her face. The only reason she’d gotten a spot in the show was because he’d made it a stipulation of his participation. Throw his girlfriend a bone, not like she could get a spot on her own. The weight of the crushing devastation nearly brought her to her knees. Her chest got so tight, she dropped down onto the floor. Better that than passing out. He stormed out and she brought her knees to her chest, tears dropping down onto her jeans.

  She contacted the gallery, the next day to let them know she was pulling out of the opening. Her throat still scratchy, she placed that call and managed to keep her voice even as the tears were back. So stupid! They tried to ask why, but she didn’t even want to let them know she knew. The embarrassment made her want to crawl under her bed and never come out. All those months wasted, no money coming in, and then she’d pulled out of the opening. Not her smartest move.

  But she couldn’t have taken that spot knowing the only reason she was even featured was because she was sleeping with Paulo. It would have been more embarrassing to show her work and have no one interested because she wasn’t good enough. He was the one they wanted. They tried to get her to stay in, but the humiliation radiating off her as she gathered up her folios from the gallery, making them back off. It was all she could do to get out of there before breaking down in tears in her car. The overly large photo prints mocked her from where they were lined up along her living room wall. Capturing someone through a lens allowed her to see them in a way she could never capture with her drawing. But now even that had been ruined.

  Ripping open the envelope, she’d been dreading since she saw it in her instructor’s mailbox, Keira hefted her bag up higher on her shoulder standing next to her car in the parking lot outside her apartment building. They cut her class! They cut her summer funding. The classes she’d depended on teaching to be able to—you know—eat and live this summer just evaporated. She’d hoped for a miracle, but this year it wasn’t in the cards. The applications she’d put in all over town had returned absolutely nothing. She ran her fingers through her hair and leaned her forehead against the roof of her tiny clunker. The level of being screwed raised exponentially when she opened the door to her apartment and picked up the notice that was slipped under her door. A three hundred dollar rent increase effective next month. Perfect!

  Being an art instructor wasn’t exactly the ticket to the big bucks, but she’d cobbled together a good portfolio of classes she offered throughout the year to keep her afloat. Summer was rough, but she’d managed to find a way over the past couple of years. It seemed her luck had run out. And selling art work, she’d never been good at putting her stuff out there to begin with and when she finally ginned up the courage, everything had fallen apart. She preferred to guide and shape the work of other artists now. But she’d have to try to sell her stuff, unless she wanted to be homeless.

  Keira threw her bag down on the couch and opened the fridge and hung her head. She’d forgotten to go grocery shopping. Pulling out some pitiful looking take out container, she sniffed it, sh
rugging and stuck it in the microwave. Maybe she could put some stuff online to sell or maybe do some event photography. The timer beeped and she took it out, shoveled a huge forkful into her mouth and started to chew. That was when she saw the huge patch of green fuzzy mold hanging out in the corner of the container. Gross! She thought it was broccoli.

  Spitting out what was still in her mouth into the trash, she promptly threw the rest of it away. Stomach growling, she cautiously sniffed the only other container in the fridge, after searching the contents extensively, she popped it in the microwave and waited. Her phone vibrated across the nearly empty counter.

  Mark: Going away party tonight. Don’t be late! And a special performer may stop by.

  She’d completely forgotten and holy shit! Did he mean who she thought he meant? There was a musician she’d seen at a few small venues and festivals over the past year. She couldn’t get his music out of her head. He didn’t have an album yet, so she’d tracked down some recordings of his stuff and a single had been released recently. His musical ability was only rivaled by how hot he made her. Not many women went for the redheads, but on him, it looked good. Red hair, blue eyes, golden brown freckles, fingers that flew across the guitar strings like nothing she’d ever seen before. What wasn’t there to like? For some reason, he’d decided that her friend Mark’s bar, The Bramble, was going to be his LA pit stop and every time he’d performed there, she’d missed him. The last time, she’d literally run into him as he came out of the bathroom on his way out of the bar. Until tonight!

  His first single seemed to be on repeat with the Top 40 stations in town and she almost hated that more people were getting to know him. She enjoyed having one of those undiscovered talents in her playlist that she could pull out to blow people away. But people with talent like him didn’t stay out of the limelight for long. Hopefully, the tickets wouldn’t be too expensive next time he came through town because she was sure he’d be playing stadiums in no time. He was opening for a big band this summer. Her lack of musical knowledge failed her when she tried to think of one of their songs. But she didn’t care, she’d buy a ticket to their show just to see him perform. Now she needed to confirm that he’d be playing tonight.