by Jo Raven
His hands are frantically working on the small buttons on the front of my blouse, but eventually he curses against my mouth and sits back, tugging at the hem of said blouse. “Take it off, or I’m gonna rip this damn thing to shreds to get it off you. Need to touch you.”
Skin to skin. I know how he feels. It’s always the same with him. We only made love yesterday, and I slept in his arms all night, but it’s as if we’ve been apart for months and can’t wait to get our hands on each other.
Together we pull my blouse off, and he stares at my boobs, his eyes darkening.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he breathes reverently, and reaches behind me to unclasp my bra, letting my boobs spill out. “Holy shit, you’re so beautiful.”
He means it. I see it in his dilated pupils, his uneven breath, his twitching hard-on, the shaky hand he lifts to push me back down on the mattress. He loves my swollen breasts, my rounded belly, the few extra pounds I put on since I got pregnant.
He loves me.
“Tay…” he whispers.
I close my eyes, overcome with emotion, and he leans over me. “Need you. Now.”
“You have me.” I open my eyes to find him lowering himself over me, one elbow braced by my head, cupping one boob with the other. His mouth curves up on one side in a sexy, crooked smirk. “But you’re not ready for me yet.”
“Of course I’m ready—ooh…” His mouth closes over the tip of my breast, sucking, teeth teasing, and pleasure shoots straight down, right where his hand is now sliding, slipping between my thighs, teasing, stroking. “Matt…”
He switches to my other breast, licking my hardened nipple, blowing cool air on it, sucking lightly, and it’s so sensitive these days the pleasure mingles with pain.
“Oh God…” I twist away, but then arch up again, seeking more. He’s driving me insane with lust. “Please…”
His fingers are slipping in and out of me, and I’m right on the edge of an orgasm again, so very close… and then I gasp as I come on his fingers, his mouth on my breast, my insides tightening with the force of it. My hips lift and fall, riding the waves of pleasure.
He lifts his head, giving my nipple one lingering lick that has me moaning, while I try to gather my scattered wits. “This is what I’m talking about,” he murmurs.
All I can do is pant and squirm.
Then he pulls out the two fingers he had inside me and licks them, slowly, his gaze never leaving mine.
Getting me all hot and bothered again.
“Now you’re ready for me,” he says, and reaches down for his cock. Before I can regain the power of speech, he strokes his hard-on over my clit, making me gasp.
And he pushes into me.
My world splinters, breaks, narrows down to this man leaning over me, pushing into me, claiming me. His hands are braced at my sides, and powerful muscles bulge in his arms as he lowers himself in an inverted push-up to lick at my mouth.
Then he pushes himself up again, pulls out an inch or two, and thrusts into me with a heartfelt groan.
Pleasure sparks down my spine, spreading like liquid fire in my belly, and I bite my lip to muffle a moan. It feels so good. His hot gaze lifts to my face, and in his eyes I can see it all—his need, his love for me, his desire, and the control he has over himself drawn taut and about to snap.
Because of me.
He’s rocking his hips now, pistoning in and out of me, a beautiful beast of a man, his small nipples drawn into tight points, his abs clenched into a crazy six-pack. Sweat gleams on his smooth skin, in the strands of his short beard, his dark hair stuck to his temples as he grunts and his rhythm stutters, his cock swelling more inside me.
He holds my gaze, his face tightening with what looks like pain or intense pleasure. “Tay…”
Just the sound of my name in that raw, raspy voice as he’s about to come, and my core clenches around his cock.
“Matt…” I whisper, and arch up as I come again.
Love you.
Chapter Three
Matt
After a long day at work, and with my worry about Evan heavy on my shoulders, coming home to my girl and sinking inside her is the best fucking thing in the world.
This girl blows my mind. So pretty. So warm. So tight around my dick. I love her heart, love her mind, love the extra sexy curves from the baby I put in her. Her lush tits. Her swollen belly. God, I could be inside her all day and all night if I could. Feeling her, holding her, making her come again and again.
Giving her so much pleasure it will counteract all the pain contained in this world.
Giving her everything I have, everything I am, to keep her forever.
Always this deep-seated fear that I could lose her.
I can’t. I won’t.
Fuck.
“Matt…” she whispers, and arches up, her hands tightening on my arms, like her pussy around my cock. Her eyes widen a little, brows lifting as she clenches around me, and cries out.
She’s coming again, the pressure ratcheting up until I can’t stop the dam from breaking. My breath goes out in a long groan, my vision goes white, and my mind blanks as I jerk inside her, drowning in pleasure.
When my body finally relaxes, and I open my eyes to look down at her, I find a lazy smile on her pretty face. My fucking stupid heart flips over.
Like every single time.
“I’m glad you’re coming with me,” I tell her, not willing to pull out of her just yet, loving the feel of her pussy around my cock, pulsing faintly, drawing tiny aftershocks from me.
She licks her lips. “I always come when you’re done with me.”
I grin down at her. “Heh. Coming to Destiny.” She likes teasing me, turning my world lighter, and I love her for it. I love her so fucking much. “We’re long overdue for some alone time. I want to fuck all night long, without fear that one of the kids will walk in.”
“Like that ever stopped you?”
“True.” Regretfully I pull out, and I roll over beside her, not to crush her. “Still, it might be nice to have you all to myself.”
Despite Evan’s troubles and my worry for the guy. But I mean it. I need her, need time with her, without the kids, and her siblings, before the baby comes. Maybe it is because of Evan and the reminder of how fragile peace and happiness is.
I talked to him today. He didn’t say much, but I got out of him what happened. A car accident, not his fault. A broken arm and collarbone seem to be the worst of the damage.
What a fucking mess. I wish he’d talked to me sooner, wish he’d told me more, but I’m gonna find out, on the spot. Not like he can stop me. He asked for my presence there, after all.
I wonder if this anger I’m feeling is the reason he held back all this time. He probably realized I’d have gone the moment he told me how things are and punched the living daylights out of all the motherfuckers who think they can toy with people’s lives.
Evan’s life.
She rolls on her side to put her arms around me and bury my face in her soft, sweet-smelling hair, dragging her close, pulling her leg over mine. She fits so perfectly against me, together with our baby in her belly, cradled between us.
“Are you all right?” she whispers, lifting her face to look at me, her blue eyes filling my vision like a calm sea. “You tensed.”
“Yeah, I…” I kiss her forehead, lift my hand to stroke a dark curl behind the shell of her ear. “I’m okay.”
“You’re worried about Evan,” she says.
I nod.
It’s not a question, and I’m glad, because I don’t want to confess that I’m worried about so much more. Not when being beside her is such a gift I don’t feel I have the right to complain or ask for anything else.
Even if it has to do with her father and bully of a half-brother—the one she’s so concerned about.
Dammit.
* * *
We’re due to leave town the next day in the morning. It’s a Friday, and I took today and tomorrow off, a
s well as Monday, but I’ll need to see if I’ll need more time, depending on what Evan needs from me. Kaden says he’s got everything at the Mancave under control.
And why wouldn’t he? I’ve never left the shop entirely in his care before, and I don’t know why the hell I’m worried he can’t pull it off. Kaden’s got as much experience as a mechanic as I do. He’s damn good at his job.
There ya go. Everything will be fine. Kaden’s got the shop, my mom and Octavia’s will look after the kids, and Gigi and Merc promised to take them to the movies and spend time with them. They’re in good hands, and they’ll be fine, even if I’ve never left them behind before.
Maybe that’s all there is to it. First time away from them since I got together with Octavia. Must be the reason why my stomach is twisted up in a knot.
It’s just for a few days, Jesus Christ. Let go, Matt. They’ll be okay without you.
I throw my duffel bag into the back seat of my double cabin pick-up truck and slam the door with unnecessary force, then kick at the tire for good measure.
They’ll be fine. They’ll be here, waiting, until you come back.
Christ, I’m still ruled by fear. Still fucked up in the head. I’ve had years to come to terms with Emma’s death, with the dark spaces in my mind, and it takes one bad turn of events such as this one to pull me off the damn track.
Well, I won’t fucking let it happen.
* * *
“Mary!” I open her bedroom door, but I find the room empty. “Where is that girl?”
I walk inside, turn in a circle, as if she’ll appear from behind a curtain or step out of the closet. Where is she? She should be ready for school, eating breakfast downstairs with Cole, but my search of the house so far has produced zero results.
Cursing, I wander back down the stairs and check every room on my way to the kitchen. I wanted to talk to her before leaving, and last night she appeared to be asleep when I peeked into her room.
Is it possible that my little girl is avoiding me?
What the hell’s going on?
“Cole.” He’s still slurping his Fruit Loops, watching cartoons on the small TV set on the counter. “You sure you don’t know where your sister is?”
He shrugs quickly, a light roll of bony shoulders, and shoots me a furtive look.
Oh boy. I drag a chair back and sit down across from him. “Cole. I need to talk to Mary. Where is she?”
He swallows his mouthful of cereal, glances back at the TV as if he can escape through the screen, then turns back to me, mouth downturned. “She doesn’t want me to tell you.”
“Well, I am her father. Yours, too, yeah? As your father, I need to know where you are, always, so that I can make sure you’re all right. Do you understand, buddy?”
He gives a jerky nod, puts down his spoon. His cheeks are turning red. “She just didn’t want to talk to you, that’s all.”
“Funny thing is, I want to talk to her, so tough cookie. Where is she?”
“Outside. Under the tree. She likes sitting there.”
True, but it’s fucking cold out there. “Thanks, buddy.” I reach across the table and pat his hand.
He snatches it back, looking away. “She’ll hate me for telling you.”
“Mary can’t hate you, Cole. She loves you too much.”
The corners of his mouth turn up in a pleased smile. “Yeah?”
He’s smiling, still looking away, when I get up and walk outside to find my daughter. Stupid kid, this boy of mine. How he doesn’t know Mary adores him is beyond me. Ever since she was a tiny thing and he was a squalling baby, she’d rock his cradle, stroke his dark curls and act like his own mother. She can’t hate him for telling on her.
Although, I think as I walk down the garden path toward the oak towering on one side, Mary is changing. She’s acting in a way I wouldn’t have predicted. She’s acting not like herself.
Isn’t it too early for the teenage acting-up thing?
Cool wind whistles down the street, bringing a promise of rain. I put my head down and shove my hands into my pockets, cursing myself for not grabbing a rain jacket before rushing out.
The tree leaves rustle as I approach. Why didn’t I think to look for her here?
Probably because I didn’t think she’d rather get drenched than talk to me.
“Mary.” I step under the branches. “Where are you?”
I see the pale flash of her small face, and she steps out from behind the thick tree trunk, hands jammed in the pockets of her pale pink parka. “Dad.”
“Daughter,” I say gravely, and I catch the curl of a quick smile.
“What are you doing out here?”
“What am I…? Are you serious? Why are you out here, and not eating breakfast with Cole?”
“I ate. I’m done.”
“And what, you thought hanging out in the wind and rain would help you digest faster?”
She holds my gaze fiercely with her dark eyes. “Dad.”
Jesus. And… “Mary.”
She bites her lip, but I see that quick smile before it disappears. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“Why not?” I step closer, open my arms, and she comes to me. My little girl. I ruffle her hair, and she grumbles, but she lets me hold her for a few precious moments before pulling back. “What’s up, little lady? What’s on your mind? Why are you avoiding us, me and Octavia?”
“I’m not avoiding you,” she says, but she’s a terrible liar. This girl has never been an open book, but since she was little she wore her worry on her face disguised as anger. She’d lash out and glare instead of cry.
Takes after her father in this, I guess. It took Octavia to bring us both out of our protective shells.
“Who have you been texting with, then? At least tell me as much. If it is a boyfriend, I swear I’ll keep an open mind, give him a chance to state his case.”
She finally laughs, and God I missed the sound. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
A boy, then. Filing that away for further discussion, I try again.
“Talk to me, baby girl. I can’t go chasing after you in the cold every time something is wrong. My old bones hurt.”
“You’re not old,” she says.
“That’s not the point.”
She sighs. “Everything’s fine, Dad. I promise. And it’s not that cold.”
“Don’t promise. Don’t…” I huff, rake my hand through my hair. It needs a cut, badly. Been too busy lately to go get it done. “Something is bothering you. I want… the best for you, and your brother. For all of us. I’m not an easy guy to get along with, and not the best father, but I fucking love you with all my heart. I hope you can come to me with—”
She slams into me, wrapping her thin arms around my back, burying her face in my chest. “It’s not you, Daddy.”
I draw a sharp breath. She hasn’t called me that—Daddy—in what feels like years. Maybe it is years. “Okay. Is it Octavia?”
She shakes her head against my sweater.
Pulling her against me, stroking her hair, I frown at the gray morning. I can’t help noticing she hasn’t replied to my question. Something’s hurting her, and I can’t fight it without knowing what it is.
If it’s not something we did, then what?
* * *
Mary disappears again before I can properly say goodbye, and I know I need to take my time to sit her down and talk to her until she opens up and tells me what’s bothering her.
But meanwhile, we have a trip to prepare for.
After placing Octavia’s suitcase beside my duffel bag in the back seat, I help her up to the truck, into the passenger seat. My hands linger on her, as does her gaze on me. She smooths a hand over her belly and God, I love the slight swell.
“Ready?” she asks, reaching out to touch my face, and I don’t know what to say.
Ready to see the wreck of Evan’s life? To see Destiny, where I swam through darkness until I found her, where a psychopath kidnapped my kids, and the
n her, almost killing her? Where her asshole father and sadistic half-brother live?
Not sure, but I don’t have a fucking choice.
“I’m ready,” I reply evenly, and turn my face to kiss her palm. “Buckle up, sweets. Time to hit the road.”
Her fingers tangle in my short beard, tugging my face closer. “Stop worrying so much. It’ll be okay.”
“Yeah,” I say gruffly, and lean in to kiss her. “I know.”
She lets go, and I close her door while she makes a face at me through the window.
Shaking my head, I walk around the truck and climb behind the wheel. “What?”
“Nothing. Just…” She giggles behind her hand. “You’re really hot when you’re glaring.”
Christ, this girl. Like my daughter earlier, I bite into my lower lip not to snort. “I said, buckle up, Mrs. Hansen. This will be a wild ride.”
“With you, Mr. Hansen,” she mutters, still laughing, “it always is.”
Chapter Four
Octavia
As we head out of town, I lean back in my seat and close my eyes. God, we’re leaving. It’s a relief. I didn’t want to admit to myself how I dreaded the stress of packing, of saying goodbye to the kids who looked so frigging sad, to my mom and Gigi over the phone who did a good job of stressing me more.
Oh God, it’s still morning time. The drive to Destiny is about four hours in good weather conditions, barring accidents and hailstorms. I could catch a wink. The rocking of the car always puts me to sleep.
“Tired?” Matt asks softly, and I catch his dark gaze on me as the truck idles at a traffic light.
“A little.” Wiped out, actually. I settle back more comfortably, smile at him. “I hate goodbyes.”
His mouth tightens a little. “Me too.”
It’s obvious his mind instantly went to darker times, and permanent goodbyes. It kills me to see him sad, lost in painful memories.
I reach out, lay my hand on his arm. “We won’t be gone long.”
