by Lynn Burke
I watched him stalk away like a man on a mission, and I had no doubt what he planned to do. Take care of the hard cock along his right thigh. My mouth watered, and I tore my focus off his broad, hunched shoulders. Pure power, raw masculinity, and an honorable heart if I’d ever seen one.
My heart fluttered at the thought of letting go, arousal heavy enough to thrum my pulse in my ears. Damn him for being so perfect. Alluring.
With a heavily huffed exhale, I pushed up and went inside. Devon played some video game on the TV, but I didn’t mind his occupying the only one in the house. I kissed him on the top of his head.
“I’m headed to bed, Dev.”
“How’s Vigil?” he asked without turning from the screen, his fingers flying over the controller in his hands.
I straightened and moved to his side to better see his face. “You knew he came over?”
He smirked enough his dimple popped. “Was gonna come out to join you but saw him sitting there on the stoop. I crept away real quiet so he could have you all to himself.”
“Who said he wanted me all to himself?”
Devon laughed, but didn’t look away from the TV while the colors from the screen flashed across his face in the lone lamp’s light. “Come on, Mom. The guy is dead gone on you. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”
“What makes you think that?”
“The way he watches you. When you talk and when he probably thinks you don’t notice him staring. If I had to bet—” Devon jerked sideways while his character tried to shy away from some beast with a club “—I’d say he’s got a thing for your ass.”
“Devon!”
“Sorry. Bum.”
Heat flushed through me as I thought of Vigil staring at my backside.
“Give him a chance, Mom,” Devon said when I didn’t respond, his focus intent on the screen. “Just might be tons of fun.”
I narrowed my gaze, hands planting on my hips. “And what would you know of fun? Last we spoke, you said you hadn’t even gotten to second base with a girl.”
His cheeks flushed beet red. “I might have gotten that far.”
“Uh huh. So how do you know about the fun part?”
His character died, and he swore under his breath.
I let the curse go but kept my focus on his face.
He wouldn’t look up at me, but fiddled with the controller. “I might have seen some stuff online,” he squeaked.
God, I loved the fact my son felt confident enough in our relationship to be honest with me. “By accident?”
“Um … no?”
I huffed a short laugh, my hands falling from my hips. “Take it easy on the porn, Dev. It’ll give you high expectations. Ninety-nine percent is for the cameras and isn’t even real—including all those perfect titties.”
“Mom,” he groaned and rolled his eyes.
“You promise me when you meet a girl and you’re ready to experience that fun, you’ll talk to me first. I’ll get you whatever protection you need if you’re too embarrassed to get it yourself. I don’t need any rug rats running around your teenage feet or diseases that could hinder the rest of your life.”
“Not interested yet, so cool your jets, Mom.”
“Okay, son.” Laughing again, I kissed the top of his head once more. “Get showered before you crawl into bed, Dev. You stink.”
“Love you, too!” he shot as I ambled back down the hallway.
I read for over an hour while curled up on my double bed, imagining a red-headed, pale-eyed neighbor as the knight in chromed-out armor, riding in to save his beloved. He claimed his love with words—then claimed her body in a sunlit meadow where purple heather waved in a warm breeze. The author didn’t mince words, but laid out the sex scene in vivid detail, heating me clear through.
Happily ever after, the end.
Sighing, I tossed the old paperback aside and stared at the discolored ceiling above. God, I missed having a man. My ex hadn’t been affectionate, but damn, how I longed for hugs and snuggles beyond Devon’s. He’d been clamming up on me the previous few months, and the lack of physical touch really did a number on my head.
Without giving it too much thought, I grabbed my cell and shot off a text.
Thank you for the company tonight, Vigil.
I chewed on the inside of my lip while waiting for him to reply.
V: Talking to you is a pleasure
A sigh fluttered from my chest at the thought of a man wanting to be with me for his own pleasure—outside of the physical. What man did that shit? Longing for more sent my fingers over the screen.
Me: We should do it again sometime.
V: Whenever you want, wildcat. I’m all yours.
Oh, the temptation to tell him to meet me out there that very minute... Huffing at myself, I texted what I knew I ought to.
Me: Sleep well, my friend.
My cell dinged before I could set it down on the bed stand.
V: I’ll be dreaming of you.
“Goddamn you, Frankie Capello,” I grumbled, my mind revving back up to where it had been while reading.
I fished my vibrator from the bed stand and took care of business, but true satisfaction lay beyond reach. Cursing myself, cursing Vigil, cursing my entire existence that led to us meeting, I burrowed my head under my pillow and clenched my eyes shut. Sleep was a long time in coming.
****
Vigil wore another pair of jeans that fit his ass perfectly and outlined the bulge between his thighs when he came over the next day to watch the games with Dillon.
I kept to my room more than the living room, needing space to breathe. The scent of his soap and his mere presence stole the oxygen from my lungs, leaving me light-headed and all fluttery.
Arousal soaked two pairs of panties during the long hours of his visit, too, from nothing more than heated glances. Not one brush against me, no copping a feel while passing close in the kitchen. No suggestive words, either. He totally honored my request for not hitting on me.
What the hell was the man doing to me? I’d gone a long time without, but that hadn’t ever turned me on to the point of combustion from a gentle brush over my clit before. But it wasn’t just how he looked at me. The attention and affection he showed my son drew me in, too, ensnaring all the feels in my heart, damn him.
When the second game’s fourth quarter started, I went out to the back porch with my tea, filling my lungs with the night air that didn’t contain a hint of Vigil. Breathing came easier, but my mind couldn’t be torn from thinking about him.
Those veined forearms. The large hands—calloused palms and strong fingers. Pecs that swelled his t-shirt. The hints of gold in his beard and the laughter in his eyes when he bullshitted with Devon.
Sighing, I propped my chin in my palm, my elbow resting on my knee while staring across our small backyard. A warm breeze tickled hair over my cheek and rustled the leaves of the trees to my right. Stars hinted in the darkening sky, and someone’s dog took to barking to ruin the serenity of my stolen moment.
The door squeaked open behind me, and I felt him before he spoke, jitters rousing to life in my belly.
“Can I join you?”
Same as the night before, I patted the stoop beside me, and he lowered into place, setting my nerve endings alive with little shoots of energy zinging into goosebumps.
“You’re really tensed up today.”
“Mmm,” I agreed without looking at him and sipping my tea.
“Shoulders are damn near up to your ears.”
“Yeah.”
“Scoot over and I’ll give you a massage,” he said without a trace of sexual advancement.
I finally looked over at him to find a soft smile lifting the auburn hairs around his mouth. Full, kissable lips... Jerking my focus upward only made things worse. The light behind us lit one side of his face, sending the other into dark shadow.
Half angel, half demon.
A snort left me before I could stop it.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, one of his eyebrows popping up along with a corner of his lips.
That damn mouth.
“You’re an absolute contradiction,” I muttered, hating that I couldn’t just put him inside a box and label it, thus ending whatever I felt simmered between us.
“In what way?”
“You’re a beam of light and a bastardly demon all wrapped up in...” I swept my hand through the hair as though encompassing him from head to toe.
“Wrapped up in what?” he pushed, his angelic eye twinkling with enough of the demon I squeezed my thighs together.
Scowling, I held his gaze. “I haven’t decided yet.”
He grinned and leaned back on his hands, casting his gaze across the yards separating our houses. His pecs swelled along with the muscles lining his shoulders, and my focus slid down over bulging biceps and those veined forearms again.
“You’ve got a thing for my arms and hands.”
I jerked my head back toward the trees at being caught staring, my stomach fluttering like mad.
“Wildcat.”
“Hmm?” I refused to turn.
“Do you need a hug?”
His soft tone, the lack of sexual suggestion again stung my eyes and tightened my throat. I shook my head.
“Look at me.”
My head turned on its own as though I had no say in the damn matter over whether I wanted to obey Vigil’s command or not. His lips held no trace of flirting, his eyes lacking the lust I’d been dealing with all day.
“Come here.” He held out one arm in invitation, taking my tea from my hands with the other and setting it aside. “I’ve got two strong arms. Let me hold you and I promise to keep it platonic.”
I gave into temptation like a toddler with a loving puppy, shuffling my backside close and pressing against the hardness of his chest. A shudder rippled through me, and I closed my eyes, soaking in his warmth, his strength, even as his scent flooded my senses and rushed warmth between my thighs.
Strong arms wrapped around me, tugged me sideways onto his lap, but his hands stayed firm and unmoving on my back and shoulder just like he’d promised.
Safety.
A tear escaped beneath my clenched eyelids, and I snuggled closer, my throat aching.
“I got you, wildcat.”
And that’s all it took. I bawled like a baby, clinging to his shirt, my face buried against the steel of his chest. Complete emotional release of the pent up fears, disappointments, and anger wet my cheeks and his shirt. Ten years of bullshit flowed out of me in crashing waves, beating against shore and dragging bits of sand-like regret away with its pull.
Vigil kept his hands in place, but one thumb caressed my shoulder in soothing rhythm. I focused on the touch until I quieted. Emotions spent, emptied, my body took notice of his virility, the hardness pressing against my thigh. My breasts grew heavy and nipples pebbled. Warmth sprang to life between my thighs, readying me for affection of a whole different sort.
The kind I couldn’t allow no matter how much I ached for it.
I started to pull back, but Vigil only let me go so far. Glancing at his face ensnared me in his intense stare, and I held my breath.
“You alright?” he asked, smoothing my hair off my cheek, the roughness of his fingertips fluttering my eyelids closed again.
“Yeah.”
“Want to talk about it?”
I shook my head while rubbing my lips together, fighting off the need to press them against his.
“Michelle.”
My eyelids popped open, and tension strung tight between us, quieting all else in my ears but the steady thrum of my heartbeat and the one I felt beneath my hand where I still clenched at his shirt. Our hearts beat in rhythm, our breaths shared in the short distance between us.
Yearning to taste him swept over me, shivering me in the warm night.
Vigil eased me closer, pressing our chests together, mere inches spanning the distance between our mouths. His cock jerked against me, sending a rush of wetness to coat my panties. He was a beast, the likes of which I’d never seen or touched—and my body was onboard and screaming to dive in head first without thought to red flags.
His gaze dropped to my mouth, and I waited to see if he was a man of his word, my breath once more held tight inside my lungs.
“You test a man’s restraint, woman.” Grimacing, he adjusted me on his lap—off his erection rather than grind against me. “Fuck.”
That word on his lips, groaned with absolute need … holy hell, yes, please.
I gulped, my heart stuttering as the precipice my will power stood atop trembled beneath my feet.
He set me aside with his large hands as though I weighed nothing more than that toddler who’d sought comfort, making the decision for me. I stared as he stood, adjusting his hard length less than an arm’s distance away.
“Need to cool off, wildcat.” He strode back into the house, leaving me wet, willing, and so damn alone I wanted to cry again.
Goddamn him to hell and back.
Chapter Thirteen
Vigil
I kept my fucking distance for a week because I could only take so much. Every night she sat on that porch, and I watched her through my back window with the lights out like a sick perv, my dick twitching every time it seemed her gaze drifted my way.
Holding her had been nothing but torture. She fit in my arms like she belonged there, her sweet scent driving me fucking insane as I refrained from burying my face in her hair or filling my hands with her soft curves. Because goddamn did she have them and fuck did I want them. Around me. Under me. Cradling my dick in wet slickness.
I pussied out and spent the following Sunday at the club rather than hang with Dillon, catching shit from my brothers for not being around as much the previous couple of weeks. I’d been distracted big time, and it didn’t go unnoticed. Telling them to shut the fuck up earned me a bit of peace, but I needed truth and definition so I wouldn’t lose my fucking mind.
Devil hadn’t learned anything new, but he felt the need to share the shit he had on my new neighbors with our brothers, Michelle being a single mom and how much I wanted her ass. Fucker almost got his nose flattened, and if not for Dasia’s hugging his head to her tits to keep me from doing so, I’d have let my aggravation loose on his pretty face.
At least Ricky seemed to be sober, sipping a tonic rather than making love to a fucking bottle of JD. He had another shit excuse for missing Wednesday, but I could see the edge he rode in his eyes and decided to let things lie quiet until he detoxed fully.
Feeling somewhat settled with his whole affair, my damn head focused on Michelle fucking twenty-four-seven. Even though I emptied my balls every goddamn day, tension rode me like a bitch, open throttle and empty highway. Like she couldn’t get enough. Twisted my insides right the fuck up with need to butt heads with Michelle again, get that rise out of her that made my cock ache.
Dillon stayed away, too, and I wondered if I’d fucked things up by hugging his mom. I’d texted him after his first day of school, and it took him two hours to get back to me. It’d been okay, he’d said. That was it. No hot girls, nothing to hint at his true thoughts or emotions. I got the same response on Tuesday and Wednesday. He finally showed up Thursday, and the second I saw his face, I knew he wasn’t okay.
He lifted more reps, more weight, the set of his jaw and the determined glint in his eyes telling me more than his zipped lips.
“What’s going on, Dill?” I pushed once he sat red-faced on the weight bench, sweat dripping off his chin.
“School fucking sucks ass.”
“What happened?” I tossed a towel to him and leaned against my tool bench, arms crossed.
He wiped his face while continuing to scowl. “I’m a nice k
id, right?”
“Damn straight.”
“Friendly.” He slapped the towel onto his knee and looked up at me, pain in his dark eyes. “Outgoing. I can talk to anyone. Make friends with anyone—or at least I could back home.” His scowl deepened, and I waited as he glanced away as though searching for an explanation for whatever he’d yet to tell me—but I already knew where he was going. Expected it, actually.
