Son of a Beard

by Lani Lynn Vale

  Was I curious to know his secrets and motives behind doing what he’d done? Sure. Was I going to let that get in the way of what I knew was growing between us?

  No way in hell.

  “Let’s go watch some TV.”

  He gave me one last long squeeze, and then let me go, taking my hand and leading me to the living room and my amazing couch where our glasses of wine sat.

  Though, I noticed that he gave me the one he’d drank from already.

  Not that I minded.

  I just thought it was funny.

  And as we watched season two of the show we’d started last week, I felt at home for the first time in a very long time.

  Chapter 11

  Just because I’m a gentleman, doesn’t mean that I won’t spank you.

  -Food for thought

  Truth

  I woke up to the feeling of light touches trailing over my face.

  My eyes slowly snapped open, and I came face-to-face with Verity, who was staring at me like I was some interesting science project she was trying to figure out.

  “You’re awake?”

  I nodded, a yawn stealing my breath as I moved my arms up high over my head and stretched my back and legs.

  “Yeah,” I said gruffly in between yawns. “What are you waking me up so early for?”

  She pointed to the side table where my phone started to go off, and I sighed.

  “Big Papa,” I mumbled.

  Reaching to the desk, I picked it up and answered it, listening to what Big Papa had to say.

  “Is he dead?” I asked the moment he told me why he was calling.

  “We found him in an alley right outside the pub,” Big Papa answered. “Not dead…yet. But he will be soon, if all the blood loss was any indication.”

  I cursed.

  “You get anything out of him?”

  I crossed my fingers like a child but was disappointed.

  “His throat was sliced when we got to him,” Big Papa answered. “It was obvious that we were meant to find him before he was dead. There was a note pinned to the body with a fucking knife dedicating the kill to you. The anonymous 911 caller also called and told us exactly where to find him.”

  “Did you trace the call?”

  “Yes,” Big Papa snorted. “Was traced back to a pay phone outside the pub.”

  I grunted.

  “What else is there?”

  He didn’t pretend to hold anything back, but that was also because I was a knowledgeable source of information, as well as a good resource. I’d been an instructor for going on eight years now at the police academy, and I’d been a resource utilized by MPD for six of them.

  “The academy was vandalized,” he answered. “Nothing too bad, but there’s graffiti, as well as damage to the outside gates and cruisers.”

  “You think it’s related?” I assumed.

  “Yes,” he answered. “But not because there’s any evidence that there is, it’s just a gut instinct.”

  “Did you tap into the video surveillance?”

  “Yes,” he sighed. “Nothing at all. Every single camera angle from both the store where he was found and at the academy was clean. Not one single person was caught on it.”

  I growled in frustration.

  Of course they were able to avoid them.

  That spoke of professionalism, not petty crime to me.

  It didn’t matter, though. I knew exactly who it was that left that particular calling card.

  Elais fucking Beckett.

  “Why do you say they’re connected?” I feigned confusion.

  The less people that knew this man was in town, the better.

  “Nothing concrete, just a feeling,” he answered. “I just wanted to give you a head’s up, anyway. Didn’t want to surprise you.”

  You did enough, I thought morosely. Just knowing that man is in the same town as me is enough to set my hair on end…and that’s quite a feat seeing as I don’t have much in the way of fucking hair.

  Beckett’s fault again.

  Six years ago, when I got out of the Navy, I’d hooked up with a black ops group that was—or so I thought at the time—in the business of rescuing and recovering children who were kidnapped and being held hostage all over the world.

  What it actually turned out to be, though, was my inability to see anything bad in an old man who looked and acted like my grandfather. The same fucking man that my grandfather had introduced me to and who had been like a second grandfather to me for the entirety of my life.

  The same man that my father warned me about when I first started working for him.

  I’d trusted my grandfather, though, and it’d been the one and only time he was ever wrong. But, Jesus Christ, was it a doozy.

  Why? Because I’d killed a man. Although that man hadn’t been innocent by any stretch of the imagination, he did have the right to be tried for his crimes in the United States, and I’d robbed him of that right.

  Five minutes later, I hung up the phone, letting it drop down onto the bed at my side.

  “You okay?” She pressed a kiss to my pec, right above my nipple, and my dick stirred.

  I was a sick mother fucker.

  Not even ten minutes ago, Big Papa had told me the gruesome details of a man’s death, and now I was hard.

  Not to mention that there was a man here in the city who would like nothing more than to see me dead just like my grandparents.

  The same man who was sent to prison because of me—and whose release I apparently had not been told about.

  But did that stop my dick from getting hard as she trailed kisses down my sternum?

  Fuck no.

  Yeah, definitely going to hell.

  As I rolled over and pinned her underneath my body, I delighted in the gasp that left her throat. And I didn’t let the outside world—nor my conscience—intervene for the next thirty minutes as I made it my mission to forget anything and everything while in turn I memorized Verity’s body.

  “Baby,” I rasped against her neck, widening her thighs with my knees and pushing her legs farther apart.

  “What?” she breathed, her lips turning to fan over the line of my jaw.

  My beard rasped against those soft lips, and she moaned.

  My hands moved from her breasts to her arms, sliding up over soft skin until I had a delicate wrist in each hand.

  Pinning them to the bed above her head, I dropped my mouth, running it over the length of her neck and then even further along the top of her collarbone.

  “Jesus,” she rasped. “You make me act like I’ve never done it before.”

  A blush of red stole up her chest, infusing her cheeks, and I grinned.

  She was fucking adorable.

  I chuckled and dropped my head down, catching one stiff nipple between my lips and biting down gently.

  Her whole body bowed off the bed, and her naked bottom half arched up, seeking the touch of my cock against her softness.

  I gave her what she wanted, grinding down my hard cock into the warmth of her sex.

  Her heat practically scalded me where we touched, and I closed my eyes and moaned around the tip of her breast.

  Her fingers curled into fists as her back came off the bed, pushing more of her full breasts into my mouth.

  I opened wider to take it and then sucked hard.

  Over and over again, I licked, sucked, tugged and nibbled on her nipple, lavishing it with the attention it deserved.

  Releasing her wrists to use my hands to cup her breasts, I switched my mouth to the other nipple and gave it the same treatment.

  She dug her heels into the bed, thrusting her hips up and forcing my cock to grind even harder into her pussy.

  “Please,” she moaned. “I need you.”

  I knew exactly what she meant.

  My cock was swollen and throbbing, and if I didn’t get inside of her soon, I was fairly sure I would die f
rom lack of blood to my brain.

  She reached down when I wasn’t fast enough to obey her orders, and gave me two pumps with her smooth, soft hand before placing the tip of my cock against her entrance.

  I grinned at her, and slowly let my hips drop.

  The minute her heat engulfed the swollen head of my cock, I shuddered from the pleasure of it.

  I sank all the way inside her to the base of my shaft. I knew that whatever I did, this was right.

  She was right.

  Everything about her was right.

  I moaned into her neck as she took all of me, latching my hands onto her hips with a strong grip.

  My fingers dug into the meat of her ass, and my thumb pressed down against her hip bone, causing her own feminine growl to escape.

  “You feel so fucking good, baby. Like a dream,” I rasped, sweeping my lips up the line of her jaw.

  She pulled at my beard, causing me to look up into her eyes.

  “You’re the best I’ve ever had and I don’t want you to ever stop,” she whispered fiercely.

  I grinned against her lips, and then pressed down, letting my tongue trail against her bottom lip before replying.

  “I gotta go to work some time, sweet girl,” I murmured. “And I’m fairly sure you said you’d help me with the pub.”

  She sighed, her breath fanning out against my lips, and I chuckled.

  “I guess you’re right,” she murmured. “But I’m ready and willing anytime you want to take me.”

  I growled, then pulled my hips back and snapped them forward.

  The loud slap-slap filled the room around us as I continued to fuck her with long and hard thrusts.

  She started coming on the fourth stroke, and didn’t stop until I pulled back and waited for her pussy to release the stranglehold she had on my cock.

  I didn’t want to blow yet. I wanted to enjoy this for a little bit longer before reality intruded once again.

  Which I showed her as I took her for a very long time afterward.

  By the time she was a writhing mass of stray hairs and sweaty body parts underneath me, my balls were screaming for release.

  “One more,” I ordered.

  She shook her head, the long brown strands seeming to stick absolutely everywhere.

  My chest. Her chest. My neck, her armpit.

  Hell, a lot of it was even underneath her back and causing her neck to arch, giving me perfect access to run my beard over the sensitive skin there which seemed to really drive her wild.

  “One more,” I repeated, pulling out of her completely and dropping down between her legs until her feet rested on my shoulders.

  The first swipe of my tongue against her clit had her moaning in denial. “Nooooo,” she whimpered. “I can’t.”

  The next swipe—a sweet burst of flavor that was all Verity—had her rolling over to her belly to flee.

  I caught her around the ankles and yanked her down until she was over the side of the bed.

  Her feet didn’t touch, and that was okay with me.

  The less purchase she had, the less chance she had of getting away from me.

  Placing both of my hands on her ass cheeks, I parted them and bent forward, resuming my attack.

  She cried out, and then tensed when I swirled one blunt finger around her entrance.

  “God,” she breathed. “You’re sadistic.”

  I let my beard trail up the inside of her thighs and she shivered as goosebumps broke out over her skin.

  “I can do it…please. Just get inside of me.”

  I knew she could, but I was going to taste this one before I released inside of her.

  And she knew it, too, as she turned her head to the side and watched me lick her through the mirror over her dresser.

  I penetrated her with a third finger, I sucked harder on her clit, and that was all it took.

  She tried to get her knees under her to pull away, but I held her tight with my shoulders, pinning her to the bed as I continued to my oral assault on her pussy.

  Once she was finished contracting around my fingers, she was breathing hard, and I was nearly bursting.

  Standing, I straddled her backside.

  It took two rough strokes of my cock over her tight ass before I was coming, the juices of her pussy lubing my hand as I jerked off.

  White splashes of cum landed on her back and ass, and by the time I was falling over to the bed beside her, I was heaving out my breaths right along with her.

  I was sweaty, hot, and sated.

  And I wanted nothing more than to lie here and do that a hundred times over again.

  “That was the hottest, best sex I’ve ever experienced in my life, and I think I need a smoke and a drink now,” she mumbled into the mattress.

  She lay still, not quite able to move yet, and I liked the sight of my release decorating her back, so I stayed right where I was, too, gathering my wits and staring at the beautiful woman beside me.

  “I need a towel,” came her muffled reply.

  I snorted and got out of bed, snatching my underwear off the floor, and my pants off the bed post, before heading to the bathroom.

  Pulling on my underwear, followed by my pants, I left them zipped but unbuttoned and then grabbed the rag off of the towel holder and wet it down.

  Wringing it out, I walked back into the bedroom only to find her in the same position, face down on the bed.

  “You okay over there?” I asked her, placing the wet rag against her back and methodically cleaning my release from her.

  She squeaked when the cool towel hit her skin, and goosebumps broke out over her back, arms, and legs.

  A tease of sorrow hit me as I cleaned the last remnants of my release off completely, and I tossed the rag a little harder than I should have, beaming the wall across the room with it before it fell into the hamper underneath.

  “I better not have jizz on my walls,” she muttered, turning her head.

  I smiled and dropped a kiss to her cheek before getting up and searching for my t-shirt.

  “Have you seen my tee?” I asked. “I have to be at a class in about thirty minutes.”

  “The last time I saw it, it was out in the living room,” she muttered, eyes closing once again in the early morning sunlight that was streaming through her partially open blinds.

  I buttoned my pants and hooked my belt as I made my way to the living room, spotting my fucking tee exactly where she said it was, but annoyed to find the goddamned cat sitting on it, cleaning its ass.

  “Get off, fucker,” I muttered, yanking it out from underneath him.

  The cat lithely got to his feet, tossed me a hiss, and then walked off with his tail twitching in the air.

  I curled my lip and shook out my shirt before I shrugged it on.

  Immediately, I sneezed.

  I was allergic to cats…had I mentioned that?

  Not so allergic that I couldn’t be in the same house with them, but allergic enough that if they slept on my goddamned shirt, I would be sneezing and likely itching until I could get a shower.

  I’d just turned the corner to head back to her room when I stopped in my tracks.

  She was standing there, leaning against the wall, waiting for me.

  “You don’t like my cat?” she guessed.

  I snorted.

  “No,” I murmured. “But only because I’m allergic to them.”

  Her eyes widened.

  I sneezed again.

  “I…don’t know what to do,” she finally admitted.

  I winked at her.

  “It’s okay. I’ll go home, take a shower, and everything will be back to normal…promise.”

  She pursed her lips.

  “Trust me.” I held up my hands, one in the air, and one out flat, like I was swearing on a bible.

  Then the words she said next stopped me in my tracks.

  “I trust you completely, Truth. With
my heart and with my body,” she whispered. “You’re a good man.”

  I wasn’t a good man.

  The words my father hurled at me as he’d left dinner stuck with me.

  She had to be curious. That had to also be the root of why she was saying this to me in the first place. She wanted to reassure me that she was on my side…and she shouldn’t be.

  And as I left five minutes later after getting one final goodbye kiss, I knew that I needed to leave. If Elais Beckett found out about Verity, he wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep in his quest to make sure that Verity endured the same fate as my grandparents.

  He’d made me a promise five years ago—one that I thought he’d never be able to carry out—that he would make my life a living hell.

  Too bad I didn’t believe him.

  It might’ve saved me a whole lot of heartache.

  Chapter 12

  I either give too many fucks or not enough fucks. It’s like I can’t find a middle ground for perfect fuck distribution.

  -Verity’s secret thoughts

  Verity

  I was at work, but he wasn’t.

  At least he’d told the crew that I was now in charge. If he hadn’t, I would’ve left. None of them trusted me at this point, anyway. I’m just a woman that the new boss man was banging, and they thought I got this job because I was fucking him.

  Which couldn’t be further from the truth…could it?

  Normally, I wouldn’t doubt myself. Not even a little bit.

  However, it’d been five days—which seemed to be a common occurrence with him—since I’d seen him, and I was beginning to wonder what in the hell I was thinking working this job.

  Though, that didn’t stop his brother and sister from coming in two days ago telling me goodbye, and giving me hugs.

  It was the sympathy I saw in their eyes that had me biting my lip and trying to figure out what in the hell was going on.

  Was there more to what his father said than I knew?

  And if so, was he ever going to tell me about it?

  As I walked out of the pub around two p.m., confident that the crew could handle the rest of the afternoon and dinner crowd, I knew I was going to light into him the next time I saw him.

  What gave him the right to string me along like this?