“Why?”
“Because, young boys are—” But before I can finish, Cole is behind us, handing us some sodas.
“I made this one, just for you,” he tells me, and the second I take it into my hand, I can smell the liquor fermenting from the tip of the straw.
“Thank you,” all the girls say as his eyes eat me alive. My pussy tightens as I watch the way he licks his lips and moves so smoothly.
“You know him?” Polly asks.
“Yeah, I know him.”
“Shit, shit, shit,” Annabelle repeats, and we all look to see why she’s cursing.
About twenty feet in front of her is the boy she likes, and he’s on his way over to her.
“What do I do?” she asks me, but before I can answer, we are all shocked as he takes another girl by the hand and leads her into the photo booth.
I catch a glimpse of Anna, and I can see the true heartbreak come over her face. My motherly instincts kick in, and I shoot across the skating rink, dodging kids along the way. My tutu bounces with every forceful stomp. I’m a mother bear in full protection mode of my cub.
No way will any fucking boy mess with my daughter.
Two boys stand outside the booth like they’re keeping guard. But my death glare makes them scatter, and I angrily yank open the curtain to the sight of two kids kissing. It takes everything in me not to kick this little punk square in the dick.
“Out, now!” I shout, probably a little too loudly. They scurry, and with all my might, I tear the curtain straight off the machine.
Fuck this!
With the red drape in my hand, I turn and notice almost everyone staring at me—everyone including Anna.
I toss the curtain into the trash casually and walk quickly to her, knowing I fucked up. But she dashes toward the restroom. “Anna, wait!” I try to stop her, but she locks herself inside. “I’m sorry, Anna.”
“Just go away, Mom.”
With my head on the door, I feel like a fucking fool.
“Please, just go!” she shouts even louder.
When I turn around, I see Cole giving me a half-smile. He raises another soda in the air, and I go to take it from him.
What else can I do?
“Don’t say a word,” I tell him.
“I wasn’t.” He passes me the drink, and I swear this one is stronger than the last.
As I swallow my worries with gulp after gulp, I ask him, “Do you have a key to the restroom?”
“Do you really want to go in there?”
I shake my head, not sure how he knows me so damn well.
“She your only one?” he asks.
“Yeah, and I swear to God, no matter how hard I try, I’m a constant fuck up in her eyes.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“But, it is.”
“At least you’re present. My mom walked out on my dad when I was a kid, and I haven’t seen her since.”
I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself, and tell him, “You still are a kid.”
“No, no I’m not.”
A noise from behind us startles me, and I look to see Mr. Rogers as frazzled as ever yelling at a group of kids who are chanting and encouraging a few boys to a dance-off.
“What, they can’t dance now?”
“That man is fucking crazy.”
Another employee walks up to Cole and asks him a question. I look over at the bathroom; the door is still closed. Taking out my cell phone, I text Anna.
Me: Will you please come talk to me? I’m so sorry.
Anna: No, Mom, you completely embarrassed me. Polly’s dad is coming to get us.
What in the world am I supposed to do? The logical part of my brain says to let her go and give her space. But the motherly part says to tell her no that she needs to know I was only trying to help. But she doesn’t see my point of view anymore. However, that doesn’t stop me and I text her again.
Me: I can drive you guys there.
Anna: No thanks.
Which is probably a good thing, because Cole fed me such stiff-ass drinks my head is spinning. Going into my phone, I send a text to Polly’s dad, thanking him for picking them up. It’s nice of him, but that’s how he is; he always does whatever the girls need.
Feeling completely useless and depleted, I head out of the skating rink. I’ve fucked the night up enough.
This is why I never volunteer.
No matter how hard I try, it turns to shit. Like when I lost one of the kids on a trip last year, or when we were late for the bus the year before. It’s that kind of shit that always happens to me, not the other moms. Me.
After getting into my car, I rest my head back against the seat and close my eyes. Maybe a night away from her will help me to clear my mind. The recent shit with Tom and his girlfriend has had my head spinning, and it’s led to me not being myself. I need to figure out how I can be the mom my girl wants and needs me to be.
A knock on the window startles me; I look over to see Cole, leaning against my car. “Were you really gonna leave without saying goodbye?” he asks me. Sheepishly, I nod, and he places his hand over his heart. “Ouch. I barely know you, and you already broke my heart.”
“Whatever!” I yell out.
He opens the car door and reaches for my hand to help me out. Once I stand on my feet, his strong arms wrap securely behind my back, telling me just what he wants. At first, I’m a little startled, but I quickly find comfort in his hold.
“Let me take you home,” he says.
“How are you gonna get home?” I ask.
“I’m not,” he responds and leans down, claiming my lips. You’d think the man had been with hundreds of women for how skilled he is with just a kiss. Hell, maybe he has, but in this moment, I don’t care. Nothing else matters except for this guy and me. All my worries and stresses disappear.
For once, I give in to something for myself, and as I do, I hear giggles coming from across the lot. I open my eyes, Cole never stopping, to see Annabelle staring at me, and her friends laughing as they all get into Polly’s dad’s car. Instant mortification takes over, and I’m not sure what to do or again, how to make this right. And for some stupid reason, I give her a thumbs up.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
A thumbs up? Jesus Christ! She shakes her head, and I swear I’m the biggest mom fail ever.
Also by LK Collins
When New York City’s most desirable male escort gets caught, things get messy.
Latch Teracino is God’s gift to women. He’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of in a man, and he’ll fulfill your hottest fantasies, all for a price. He makes a very good living pleasing the rich and famous. Like Abby McEllrath, married to Major League Baseball’s biggest all-star, which often leaves her at home, lonely and bored.
After years of neglect and disrespect from a man who promised to give her the world, she meets Latch in the most unlikely setting. For Latch, she’s just another client – it’s the way he works. And for Abby, she adapts. However, as time progresses, their explosive connection transforms from dirty, raw sex into so much more than just a paid relationship.
Lines are crossed.
Rules are broken.
And lives are shattered.
In the end, Latch and Abby have to make a choice, one that will forever change the course they were destined to be a part of. But sometimes a simple choice isn’t that easy, especially when the one you leave behind would rather die than live without you.
Short Story 1
Preview of Latch
Copyright © 2017 LK Collins
Cover Design by Prezident Collins
Edited by Lisa Christman, Adept Edits
Photography by Sheikoevgeniya
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing.
This is a wor
k of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.
***This book is an Erotic Romance novel and contains mature subject matter. It is not intended for those under 18 years of age.***
Latch
Dedication
Latch, this one’s for you! Thank you for allowing me to share your story with the world.
“I am reassured knowing that this…is the only way…” –Latch
She’s face down on the bedroom floor moaning my name. My cock fills her soft, pink pussy, and I thrust myself in and out of her again and again. I love how tight she is around me. “Harder, Latch,” she begs for more.
I grip her hips giving her what she wants.
“You like being fucked, don’t you?” I ask her in a deep calm voice noticing her thighs starting to shake. There’s really nothing like the way a woman’s body moves when you fuck her just how she needs it.
I grin pulling her arms together behind her back, filling her full. She screams loudly not holding anything back, “Fuck, Latch!”
“That’s it, Abby, let me hear you,” I grunt. Abby is one of my regulars. I’ve been seeing her for over a year now, and every time we’re together, it’s explosive. She’s unlike any of my other clients, or any other woman for that fact. Over time our connection has morphed into something so strong, so unreal. We talk all the time, sharing so many things with one another, just about our days, which is nothing that I’ve ever done before. But it’s something that I depend on, which is not like me. I’ve never had a real relationship. I’m not saying that this is real, for Christ’s sake, I still charge her for my time, but it’s all I know and how I keep myself protected.
Dropping her arms, she arches her back, pointing her face to the ceiling feeling every inch of my swollen dick. I grab the leash that’s connected to her collar bound tightly around her neck. “Hold on, beautiful.” Driving my movements hard, I fuck her with all I have, and she tightens herself around me like a vice. I can tell a good come is beginning inside of her. Her light skin is sweaty, with a tint of red to it. Closing my eyes, I get lost in the moment, enjoying her tightness. Enjoying how fucking amazing she makes me feel.
Suddenly her noises change in pitch and I can tell her orgasm is right there. I stop right before she comes, not wanting her to let go yet, not until I am ready.
With the leash tightly in my grasp, I back out of her slowly so she can feel every inch of my dick leave her aching cunt. This is why I’m on speed dial with so many women. Yeah, I might not have planned to be in this line of work, but God gave me a gift and I’m using it. Gripping her around the waist, I flip her around like a feather feeling the adrenaline pumping through her body. She looks up at me panting with that little smirk, the one that I’d do anything for. As I lift her in my arms, she clings to me and I move her body to the massive bed.
Gently, I lay her down. Our eyes never break contact, even as I wipe my sweaty hands dry on the pillow next to me and it reminds me that her husband sleeps right here, right where I’m about to fuck her and unload. Well, at least he does when he’s home, but anymore, that’s rare. He checked out on Abby and their marriage a long time ago, turning to alcohol and roadies. But who am I to judge? I’m no fuckin’ saint, that’s for damn sure.
Abby has her legs closed. “You playing with me?” I ask her and run my tongue up one of them as I hold it in my grip. She tilts her head and gives me a tiny nod. “May I enter your pussy?” She opens her legs for me, waving me in with one finger. I grip my shaft low at the base, keeping the condom up the best that I can. Slowly I drive myself back into her relaxed body staring into her green eyes. I don’t know what it is about Abby…but there’s something that’s so intriguing. A fire inside of her that pulls me to her like a moth is drawn to a flame.
Leaning down, I lick her nipples and begin to stroke in and out, slow and long, knowing I’m hitting right where she’s not used to. She’s close, that I can tell and this pushes her to the edge. Like clockwork she tightens her cunt, arching her back as her orgasm invades her system.
“Oooh fuck,” she moans softly and I keep my strokes steady at the pace she loves. Her eyes have that spark to them, almost like it’s hurting her, but really she’s just in her favorite place. Her body is my ecstasy, making me wild inside as my own blow creeps up out of nowhere. However, I don’t fight it, letting go and releasing, with my cock buried deep inside of her.
My cum hits strong and I begin to shiver, tightening my ass and thighs; holding it for just a second longer makes it unbelievably intense. Over time, my orgasms have evolved into something so fucking powerful. And when I’m with Abby, she pushes me just a tick past there.
When we are together, I can come multiple times and that’s rare for me. Now, that’s all I’ve been thinking about when I’m with anyone else. Hell, Abby is all I think about anymore.
Since my favorite thing in the world is to fuck, my work suits me well. And coming at the end is the icing on the cake. But coming again and again is the whole fuckin’ bakery.
After I unload, I continue to stroke myself hoping to get the feeling for a third time today. She runs her fingernails up my back and I drop my head, loving her touch.
My balls tighten when I pick up speed and suddenly another orgasm hits me hard. I open my eyes and look at her as I come yet again. She stares at me with that goddamn look again and I can barely breathe. As I slow my movements, she asks, “Stay the night with me?”
I stop moving and cup her face with my hands. I don’t stay the night with my clients, no matter how much they pay me. I never have. But Abby is so different than the rest. From the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew I was doomed. Her calmness and beauty take over a room like a motherfucking hurricane. It’s what stuck out to me most when I bumped into her at the goddamn grocery store. After seeing her one time, I found myself going to the store all the time for shit I didn’t need, in hopes I’d run into her again. Knowing that her husband hasn’t been home in weeks, I respond, “Okay, but you aren’t paying me.” I kiss her gently, loving these times the most. The times after we fuck, where we can just be. I’ve hated taking her money, but it’s been the only way I’ve convinced myself that it’s okay to keep seeing her as often as I have been, since I don’t do relationships.
Laying my head against her chest, I hope that by doing this, I’m not opening either of us up to be too vulnerable. But with Abby, I do all sorts of things that I normally don’t.
The noise of her heart beats against my ear, and I own this moment of peace.
Then the alarm for her condo chimes that the front door has opened and we freeze, looking each other in the eye.
She’s terrified.
It has to be her husband. I hate to see her scared; a girl like Abby deserves the fuckin’ world. And her asshole baseball playing prick of a husband doesn’t give it to her. “What do you want me to do?” I ask her.
“Go,” she whispers reaching for the collar to remove it, and without hesitation, I listen to her. Looking around the room, there is no way to gather my things, which are spread out all over the bedroom, or to help her.
“Abby?” he calls out and I spot my pants on the chair. Darting to them, I move with urgency and hit the window not even taking the time to get dressed. I look back at Abby as she’s shoving everything under the bed. “I’m sorry,” I tell her before opening the window, knowing it will chime through the alarm, but right now, I don’t have a choice.
The fresh air is freeing as I fly down the fire escape like a monkey, not caring that I’m fifteen floors up. Above me, I hear chaos coming from
the window and then a loud bang. I know he is coming after me as the fire escape vibrates. I’m tempted to stop and fuck him up – he deserves it after all of the shit he’s put Abby through. But it wouldn’t change him. It’d just make it worse for her, which is exactly what I don’t want.
About LK Collins
You can also stalk…I mean follow them even more here:
Newsletter:
http://eepurl.com/by1yOj
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/lkcollinsauthor/
BookBub:
http://bit.ly/2j2S3Z0
Instagram:
@authorlkcollins
Twitter:
http://bit.ly/2hR1D35
Goodreads:
http://bit.ly/2j32f3q
YouTube:
http://bit.ly/2hPRkOC
Pinterest:
http://bit.ly/2j2XPK5
Reading Group:
http://bit.ly/2iGFcyR
www.authorlkcollins.com
Sweary Mom
Carina Adams
Dedication: For my boys – because this will be the only book of mine you’ll ever be allowed to read. Out of all of the names I’ve been called, Mommy will always be my favorite. Thank you for giving me that.
Sweary Mom
I grew up in a house where the catchword for everything was “shit.” Well, shit, Mom didn’t grab the gallon of milk on the way home. When the kids were being brats, they were little shits. The house was messy because we had too much shit. It was universal for everything—noun, verb, adjective…it worked for every situation.
#MomFail: 24 Authors & 24 Mom-Coms Page 24
