Doin' a Dime

by Vale, Lani Lynn

  Six was wrong.

  This room didn’t have sheets.

  But I wouldn’t need them.

  At least not right now.

  Not when there was a perfectly good wall…

  CHAPTER 18

  I don’t know shit about fuck.

  -Text from Wyett to Hunt

  WYETT

  “Are you drunk?” my husband asked curiously.

  “Yep. Thumbs up,” I confirmed, holding my finger up in a thumbs up. Only, it wasn’t a thumb. It was my pointer finger.

  I couldn’t get my fingers to work correctly.

  “We’ve never had drunk sex before,” he rumbled, placing me on my feet.

  There was an instant head rush, and that had to be why I didn’t see him coming until his big body was already pushing mine up against the hard wall at my back.

  I blinked at his sudden closeness.

  “Hello.” I smiled. “Geez, I’m really liking this new look on you.”

  I touched the tip of his nose where his glasses were slipping down the bridge of his nose.

  He looked disheveled, pissed, and hot as hell.

  I wanted to climb him like a tree.

  And… why couldn’t I?

  It wasn’t like he wasn’t my husband.

  The man was mine.

  I should be able to jump his bones if I wanted to.

  I took off my shirt and threw it over his shoulder.

  At least, I tried to, anyway. What I more ended up doing was taking it off over my head, tossing it, and hitting Hunt in the face with it.

  “Oops.” I plucked it from his head. “Sorry. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  He looked at me with amusement as he took the shirt from my hand, tossed it behind him to the floor, and looked at my boobs.

  “They’re great boobs, aren’t they?” I declared.

  His eyes flicked up to meet mine. “I want to press my face between them and live there forever. The greatest set of tits of all time.”

  “You can do that.” I paused. “But sometimes they’ll need to be washed. They get a little sweaty.”

  He chuckled and reached to trace the lace of my bra.

  “This one is new,” he murmured, his eyes flicking up to meet mine before going back down.

  “It was the only clean one I had left,” I explained. “It’s lace, and it’s itchy. It’s not my favorite, but it fits well, so I keep it because I need something fancier if the need arises. You know, like a work function. Or if I get married. That’s the last time I wore it. When we got married. We should do that again. Get married. I liked doing that. Though, this time I wouldn’t mind having my Six there, too. We can’t invite your family, though. They were a bunch of assholes.”

  His eyes were sparkling when I finished my drunken diatribe.

  “I think I can get married to you again,” he said, trailing his lips down the length of my stomach. “I think I can do a lot of things with you again.”

  “Like what?” I asked breathlessly, feeling my heart start to pound for an altogether different reason.

  He bit down on the flesh just below my belly button, causing certain things inside of me to clench with excitement.

  “Like getting another puppy,” he said, letting his lips start to move again, this time to my right hip.

  He pulled the fabric down, and then kissed where it covered right over my hip bone.

  “Another puppy?” I replied breathlessly. “What…” I swallowed when he trailed his mouth across the length of my stomach. “What about the two you already have?”

  He grinned against my other hipbone.

  “I want to become a dog parent with you,” he said. “Those I raised by myself. Raising a dog is a big responsibility. I wouldn’t make that decision with just anyone.”

  I swallowed hard when those panties started to inch slowly down my ass, one delicious millimeter at a time.

  “I also want to marry you again, too,” he agreed. “And I want to fuck you again. Love you again. Take you to see the beach again.”

  I giggled. “We just came back from the beach.”

  “But I didn’t really get to enjoy it. I had to take that course. I didn’t even get to make love to you in the sand like I would’ve liked,” he teased.

  I grimaced. “Hunt, I’m not going to lie. I’ll do the sex with you anywhere. But sex on the beach sounds painful. Can you imagine all that sand in all those delicate places?”

  Speaking of delicate places, they were now exposed to the world thanks to Hunt’s magical fingers.

  Trying to distract my exploding need for him, I whispered huskily, “What else do you want to do again?”

  “I want to bring you home for the first time again,” he said. “But there are also some actual firsts that I want to do.” He then licked the length of my stomach before saying, “Like your breasts. Have they ever been fucked?”

  I felt my face flush with heat. “Nope. My ass hasn’t been, either.” I then covered my mouth as I squeaked in surprise. “Shit! I’m sorry. That wasn’t supposed to come out of my mouth!”

  He chuckled against my mound. “I plan to take that one day, soon. I plan to take and retake all of your firsts. Everything. I’m gonna give you your first baby. I’m going to give you your first I love you. I’m going to give you your first house. Your first really big fight. Your first make-up. I’m going to retake any time I want, too. Because you’re mine, and I want to make sure you know it.”

  I knew it.

  I wanted it.

  I loved it.

  “You love me?” I asked dumbly.

  He twisted me around and spoke to my ass as he squeezed the flesh between his big hands. “I’ve loved you since you first said I could touch your eyelashes. I’ve never once experienced torture more than you coming to see me once a month while I was in prison and me not being able to touch you. To know that you’re okay. To see for myself that you were happy, healthy and whole.”

  I swallowed hard as he pressed his face against my lower back, his chin resting against one ass cheek.

  “I don’t know when I fell in love with you,” I admitted. “It was just one morning, I woke up, and you were the first thing I thought about. When I went to bed, you were the last thing to cross my mind.”

  He bent forward and bit my ass cheek, causing me to laugh.

  “Bend over,” he ordered roughly.

  I have never bent over faster in my life.

  It was honestly quite amusing.

  Which had to be why I was laughing when his mouth touched my sensitive inner flesh.

  “Wow,” he said. “I’ve never thought to experience laughter while I’m going down on my girl but…”

  I spread my legs wider, allowing him better access.

  He took advantage and started to fuck me with his mouth.

  Long delicious strokes against my clit had me panting before I’d even realized I was close.

  But that was how it was with Hunt.

  My sexy little computer geek had a mouth like the devil.

  He could do things with those hands and clever fingers that I’d never experienced before.

  The man’s IQ was fucking off the charts, and his analytical brain had him thinking outside the box even at the oddest of times.

  Like now, I could feel him tapping his finger on the tip of my clit.

  “What are you doing?” I breathed, squirming.

  “Typing out Morse code on your clit.” He chuckled. “I like the way it keeps me from getting too excited. Usually I do this when I want to make sure that I control myself when I’m in the throes of breaking a code. It’s to keep my excitement at bay to keep me from making mistakes.”

  “You won’t make a mistake,” I assured him. “You’re doing great. And I swear to God, you’re making me want to crawl out of my skin.”

  I was just about to continue, but his chuckle had me stilling.

  Just before I opened my mouth to ask him something else, to confront his chuckle, h
e pulled me backward.

  Right onto the hard length of his cock.

  Goddamn.

  “Hunt!” I cried out in surprise.

  Hunt didn’t waste time with small talk.

  He pushed and pulled me down on his cock. Filling me quickly and making me feel empty just as quickly.

  “Jesus,” I gasped, feeling what felt like a great huge ball of something filling me up to almost bursting.

  He never once slowed his pace. Just continuously pumped himself into me, hitting that most perfect place inside of me.

  But before it got too far, before I could come, I was crying out.

  “No!” I wailed. “I want your mouth when I come!”

  He froze, his big hands on my hips, and stopped with his cock stuffed fully inside of me.

  “Spin around,” he ordered.

  When I went to stand up, to pull him out of me, he stilled my hips.

  “No,” he grunted. “Keep me inside of you. All the way.”

  I licked my lips, then performed a near impossible task of turning in his arms while keeping his cock still fully embedded inside of me.

  “Fuck yeah,” he growled. “Right the fuck there.”

  I was spun halfway around, his cock at a different angle now deep inside of me, and I felt like a freakin’ pretzel.

  Hell, with his legs in between my own, I couldn’t do much more than be at his mercy.

  And at his mercy, I was.

  He filled me, pushed me, pulled me.

  Whatever he wanted, he did, and I sat back and allowed him to do that.

  Allowed him to do me.

  “Jesus, you’re so tight,” he rumbled. “Every single time I feel like it can’t get any better, that what I felt last time wasn’t anywhere near as good as it was this time, you show me differently.”

  I was panting.

  My breasts were straining against the bra I never fully got off.

  And I wanted to come.

  Badly.

  I wanted him to fill me up. I wanted his fingers on my clit.

  I wanted his mouth on mine.

  I wanted it all.

  I wanted kids with him.

  I wanted a life with him.

  I wanted this all to be real and not ‘convenient’ anymore.

  “We were never convenient,” he growled. “That was just the easiest way I could find to get you where I wanted you.”

  I finished the twist in his arms, facing him with a gasp.

  He made sure to twist me so that he stayed inside me as I moved.

  The sincerity in his eyes had me reeling.

  “What?” I asked.

  He lifted me up and slammed me back down.

  “You were never convenient,” he grunted. “Never.”

  Then he proceeded to fuck the absolute hell out of me.

  There were no other words for what he did.

  He fucked me like a man possessed. Like a man that was set on proving a point.

  That I was not a convenience.

  And when I came, my mouth was on his.

  His hands were on my ass.

  And my body was on fire.

  CHAPTER 19

  Once you hit a certain age, you become permanently unimpressed by a lot of shit.

  -Fact of Life

  HUNT

  The day had been shit.

  I knew that it was going to be bad when the first phone call I got after I started work over an hour late was from my mom. On a new fuckin’ number.

  Then my sisters, also on new numbers, started calling when I told my mother that I was no longer a part of her life and to stop calling me.

  My sisters all thought that they had to play a role in my life, and none of them, Mom and Dad included, had ever liked any girlfriend that I’d ever had.

  And I think they’d gone into today thinking that Wyett was a little gold digger.

  She wasn’t.

  In fact, she was so far from it that it was comical.

  She hadn’t let me pay for a single thing since I’d gotten home.

  Which sucked, because I knew she was struggling with money.

  She’d literally just finished school and had started her first job and hadn’t been working there all that long.

  She needed money in the worst way since she refused to touch any of her ‘nest egg’ as she liked to call it, but the only thing she allowed me to do was continue letting her live in my house.

  Her words, not mine.

  As far as I was concerned, my place was now hers, forever and ever amen.

  No take backs.

  “Hunt?”

  I squinted at the doorway, surprised to see Wyett in the door.

  “Yes?” I asked, sitting up from my computer and wincing slightly at the already pounding headache.

  I couldn’t find my glasses.

  And needing glasses and sitting in front of the computer squinting wasn’t the best thing in the world.

  Yet, there I was, doing it.

  But I’d do anything for Wyett.

  And dealing with a small—okay, rather large at this point—headache so I could find the man that had taken a contract to kill her? That I’d do in a freakin’ heartbeat.

  Pain was nothing I hadn’t endured before.

  “I’m really hungry, and it’s that time of the month, if you get what I’m saying, and I would really, really, really like Chick-Fil-A. Can you go get it since you won’t let me leave?” She held her hands up in a pleading gesture that had me vowing to do absolutely anything she ever asked of me if it made her look at me like that.

  “Yes,” I answered immediately. “Now? Or do you want me to wait a little bit until lunchtime?”

  She waved her hand away. “They serve lunch all day long. It just takes longer. And if you don’t mind going now, I would be super, duper happy.”

  I grinned and glanced at the search I was doing.

  I was scanning the man’s financial records to try to get an idea of where he was at. But so far, no hits had come on any of his usual means of payment.

  That likely meant that when he was on the job, the man paid in cash so he couldn’t be tracked back to a place.

  Which was smart, because otherwise someone could do what I’m doing now and find him and track him anywhere he ever happened to go.

  Leaving the page up, I picked up my phone and shoved it into my pocket.

  Once I was up, I headed toward where she was standing in the door looking at me.

  Her face was full of flames, which meant that she likely more than remembered the night before.

  Stopping in front of her, I tilted my head slightly.

  “You know that you’re mine?” I asked.

  She swallowed and nodded. “I do.”

  “You gonna stay living here?” I asked.

  She nodded. “I am.”

  “You gonna let me marry you again? This time in front of everyone?” I kept at it.

  She didn’t say anything this time, just gave me a fierce nod.

  “You love me?”

  Her breath hitched. “I do.”

  I grinned then and dropped a kiss onto her upturned mouth. “I love you, too.”

  A weak laugh left her. “I know. You made me understand your intentions last night.”

  I pulled her in by cupping her ass, making sure that she felt the erection tenting my pants.

  “I’ll see you in about thirty minutes,” I said.

  She grinned at me weakly. “Okay. Be careful.”

  I gave her a look.

  “It’s not me that has a hit out on me,” I pointed out. “Plus, I think I can handle my own.”

  Turns out, I could handle my own up to a certain point.

  • • •

  I used my phone app to order our food as I sat in the parking lot and waited for it to arrive.

  I was deep in thought, my eyes on the phone in my hands, and not the area surrounding me, so that had to be why I allowed them to get as close as they did.

&n
bsp; Then again, there was only a certain amount of ‘not paying attention’ I did.

  Before prison, I would’ve been so engrossed in my phone, or my computer, that I wouldn’t have even paid the three men any attention at all.

  AP—after prison—that wasn’t the case.

  I was more than aware that they were there in the truck beside me as I waited.

  That had to be why I allowed it to happen at all—them getting that close to me.

  At first, I thought that they were waiting for their food like me.

  I was trying to follow a movement on the identity I’d filched from the hit man’s computer, engrossed in that, when one of the men got out of the truck at the next space over and walked toward the door.

  He handed the woman cash, but she shook her head. “I’m sorry, but we’re not able to accept cash in that large of bill amounts after a certain point in the day.”

  The man scowled. “I only have a hundred-dollar bill at the moment.”

  She looked torn, but ultimately stood her ground. “You can pay on the app! But I’m sorry, we can’t take hundred-dollar bills.”

  The man scowled hard. “Shit.”

  The young woman frowned, taking a step back at the look on the man’s face.

  That’s what got my full attention.

  “I’m hungry,” he growled. “I haven’t eaten in twenty-four hours. I’ve driven six hours straight. And you’re telling me you don’t accept cash.”

  I looked at the girl who was wincing. “I’m really sorry, sir.”

  The man hissed in frustration, looking sort of torn.

  Then he reluctantly reached into his pocket and produced a credit card. A credit card not in his wallet.

  I frowned hard.

  The woman smiled and hurried back inside.

  The man scowled and headed back to his truck just as my food came out.

  Just as she was handing me my drinks my phone pinged, signaling an alarm.

  The hit man had used his credit card.

  I quickly took the food and the drinks, and shoved them unceremoniously into the saddlebags, knowing that the fries were spilling and not giving one single shit.

  “Thank you,” I said on autopilot.

  “My pleasure.” The woman replied, then handed the man in the truck beside me his credit card back.

  She was just reaching the door when the details of the transaction hit my phone.