Creative Casanova: A Hero Club Novel

by K. Street

  “Let’s go.” Carter circled an arm around Kendall’s waist, and together, they led Zeke and Brucey to the next building.

  I gave Ryder a shy smile. “Thank you for inviting me. It means a lot to me.”

  He laced his fingers with mine. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me too.” I snuggled into him.

  As long as I lived, I would remember this moment. Walking hand in hand with the man I loved and feeling like he really saw me. For the first time, it was as though I belonged. Like I was part of a family.

  Twenty-Five

  Ryder

  I pressed the button for the garage entrance from inside my truck. The door slowly rose, its mechanical sound barely audible through the rolled-up windows. I glanced in the rearview mirror at my kid brother passed out in his booster seat and smiled. Then, my gaze moved to Presley, who sat in the front passenger seat, staring at me with a quizzical look etched across her pretty features.

  “Spend the night with me.” I didn’t ask because it wasn’t a request.

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Spend the night.”

  Her gaze shifted toward Zeke.

  Presley had spent the night at my house multiple times over the last few months, but it had always been when Zeke stayed the night at Mimi’s, and he’d been none the wiser.

  I inched closer, cupped her cheek in my palm, and spoke softly, “I want you here. Tonight and in the morning. I want the three of us to gather for breakfast at the kitchen table. I want Zeke to know you’re more than someone’s face I eat on occasion.”

  Her delicate laugh vibrated against my skin.

  Then, she turned serious.

  Our eyes met, and our gazes held steady as we had another wordless conversation.

  Finally, Presley asked, “Are you sure?”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely.” I gently kissed her lips and then pulled back. “Do you mind letting Turtle out for me while I carry Zeke in?”

  Presley loved that damn dog as much as Zeke and I. And the dog loved her just as much, if not more. Furry little traitor.

  “Sure.” Presley reached for her bag and quietly opened her door, cringing when the dome light came on. After she lightly closed her door, she trekked through the open garage.

  Once she made it inside and the sound of Turtle’s barking tapered off, I climbed out, carefully closed my own door, and then went around to get Zeke.

  Somehow, I managed to get him out of his seat, into the house, and through his bedroom doorway without waking him.

  My steps faltered a bit as I crossed the threshold onto his carpet. Zeke’s bedside lamp cast a muted glow over the room. The covers on the mattress had been pulled back, and Presley stood near the foot of Zeke’s twin bed, a look of pure adoration on her face.

  The sight of her standing there in that damn Pippi costume, braids sticking out, looking at me like I’d hung the moon, caused my world to tilt on its axis.

  I made my way to Zeke’s bed and gently laid him down. Presley moved beside me, and together, we silently removed Zeke’s combat boots. There was no way I’d get him out of his costume without waking him up, so I left him in it.

  I pulled up the covers and bent to kiss him on the top of his head.

  “Night, kid. Love you bigger,” I whispered.

  Presley brushed her lips to Zeke’s cheek. “Sleep well, sweet boy.”

  Together, we exited the bedroom and headed for the living room.

  “If you want something to drink, help yourself. I need to run out to the truck and grab a few things.”

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “Nah. I’m good.”

  When I returned a few minutes later, arms loaded down with Zeke’s candy haul and the treats Mimi had sent home with us, I found Presley in the kitchen, staring out the glass doors.

  I emptied the items in my arms onto the counter and then moved to where she stood, embracing her from behind. “Everything okay?”

  Her sweet smile reflected back at me. “Everything is perfect.”

  I turned her around in my arms and then held her face between my palms. My stare bore into hers. We didn’t have another wordless conversation because this time, I had the words, and I couldn’t stop them from rushing past my lips even if I wanted to.

  “I love you, Pres. I love you so fucking much sometimes that it feels like I can’t breathe.”

  Her deep chocolate eyes turned glassy. “I love you too.”

  I claimed her mouth in a tender kiss, showing her how much I meant the words.

  Time passed as we stood there, wrapped up in each other.

  Reluctantly, I finally pulled away. “I’m going to lock up. Meet me in the shower?”

  “Of course.”

  She took one last drink of water from her glass on the counter, grabbed her bag, and then wandered in the direction of my room.

  After I made sure everything was secure, I went to let Turtle inside.

  The dog raced into the house, tail wagging. His nails clacked on the wood floor.

  “Hey, boy,” I whispered while scratching behind his ears. “Did you miss me?”

  The dog stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on my waist, and laid his head against my stomach. I hunched over and wrapped my arms around him, returning his hug.

  “I missed you too, boy. Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

  He ambled at my side as we moved through the house.

  I placed my palm on Zeke’s cracked bedroom door, lightly pushing it open. Turtle went to the side of the bed and sniffed. Once he was satisfied his boy was safe and sound, the dog lay on the floor at the foot of the bed.

  “Good boy. Stay.”

  I pulled the door closed, leaving it open a crack, and set off to find my girl.

  Twenty-Six

  Presley

  “Need some help?” Ryder asked as he joined me in the master bathroom.

  I stood barefoot in front of the elegant double vanity, plucking what seemed like sixty-seven thousand bobby pins from my hair.

  “You don’t mind?” My fingers were already starting to cramp.

  “Of course not.” He pointed to the closed toilet lid. “Sit.”

  “All right. Thank you.” I pecked his lips before taking a seat.

  His deft fingers began their tedious work.

  “Did you have a good time tonight?” he asked.

  “The best. Your grandma is amazing.”

  “She really is.”

  “The plastic gloves with the candy corn fingernails and popcorn hands were classic.”

  “Mimi has been doing that on Halloween for as long as I can remember.”

  “What was it like … growing up like that?”

  “Like what?”

  I shrugged. “Normal, I guess. My parents always turned every occasion into a catered event. Fine china. Waitstaff. Always way over the top. Did you know tonight was the first time I’d ever gone trick-or-treating?”

  Ryder’s hands stilled in my hair. “Are you serious?”

  “My parents didn’t have time for such nonsensical things. My nanny offered to take me once, but my mother forbade it, and then she went on a twenty-minute rampage about caloric intake and dental hygiene.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Around eight, I think.”

  “I’m sorry, baby. Your mom sounds like a real peach.” He went back to work.

  “It’s fine. That’s just who she is. My mother criticizes, and my father throws money my way to lessen the blow. Sorry,” I sighed. “I probably sound like an ungrateful brat.”

  “Not even close.”

  Metal pinged against the marble countertop, and the stack of bobby pins grew. I lifted my hand and pressed it to the side of my head, trying not to wince as Ryder slid the pipe cleaner first from one braid and then the other. I dropped my hands back to my lap. Then, he carefully unwove each strand. When he was finished, he massaged my scalp.

  I shivered from the contact. A tingly sensa
tion rippled over my head, the kind you experienced when your hair had been up too long.

  “Better?”

  “Ah. So much better.”

  He kissed the crown of my head.

  Ryder slid back the glass shower door and then turned on the water. When he had the temperature to where he wanted it, he stripped out of his clothes.

  I tried not to salivate while I took in his naked form. All broad shoulders and lean muscle. My gaze lowered to his toned stomach and the tapered V before zeroing in on his thickening cock.

  With heat pooling between my legs, I removed what was left of my costume, tossing it in a heap on the floor on top of Ryder’s. Next, my bra and panties joined the discarded wardrobe pile.

  He held out his hand in invitation. I placed my palm in his, letting him guide me into the massive shower.

  We stood beneath the spray. Tasting each other while warm water rained down on our backs.

  Finally, I pulled away and reached for the shampoo, stopping short when my eyes landed on two familiar-looking bottles.

  “You bought me shampoo and conditioner?”

  “I did.” He reached for the bottle, flipped the top open, and squeezed some into his palm. “Let me.”

  I turned around, my back to his chest, and closed my eyes.

  Ryder worked the shampoo into my hair, using the pads of his fingers to scrub my scalp with the perfect amount of pressure.

  I relaxed into his touch and practically purred. If this was heaven, I never wanted to leave.

  After he rinsed my hair, I circled my arms around his neck and kissed his lips while trying not to become distracted by his rock-hard erection pressing into my belly.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I applied conditioner to my hair and let it work its magic while Ryder and I took turns in washing every inch of one another.

  He got out of the shower first and wrapped a towel around his waist while I rinsed my hair and then turned off the water.

  I grabbed one of the two towels left on the rack, tipped my head upside down, and twisted it around my wet locks before tucking the remaining towel around me.

  Ryder used his forearm to wipe the fogged mirror in front of the sink where he stood, and then he picked up a container of shaving gel in one hand while he used the other to pull out the middle vanity drawer.

  “I picked up some other things for you.”

  Words failed me as I stared at the contents. Eucalyptus-spearmint lotion. Two bottles of contact cleaning solution along with a lens case. My preferred brand and style of hair elastics and a fresh supply of my favorite lip balm that I always had on hand.

  Warmth spread through me.

  This man …

  “Ryder … I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything.”

  I tried to process all the new developments in our relationship as I rifled through my bag, which I’d left on the counter earlier, searching for my glasses. Once I found them, I took out my contact lenses, placed them in the case, and slipped my glasses onto my nose.

  While Ryder shaved, I applied lotion to my legs, washing my hands afterward. How well we shared the space, as though we had done so for years, wasn’t lost on me. After we brushed our teeth, Ryder padded across his bedroom and secured the door before he ditched his towel over the hamper and sat on the edge of the bed, cock half-mast.

  I went to him, braced myself on his shoulders, and straddled his lap.

  My brown eyes met his green ones.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what, sweetheart?”

  I struggled to put my thoughts into words.

  Everything.

  Tonight.

  Being so thoughtful.

  Loving me.

  When I finally spoke, I said, “For being my more.”

  He reached around the back of my head and tugged on the tucked end of the towel still holding my hair, freeing it. The still-damp strands fell over my bare shoulders.

  Ryder cradled the back of my head in his palm. “I love you, baby.”

  “I love you too. So much.” I opened my towel and let it fall to the floor.

  Chills rippled over my exposed skin, causing my nipples to harden.

  “You’re so fucking sexy, Pres.”

  He palmed my tits, rolling my nipples between the rough pads of his thumbs and forefingers.

  A quiet moan fell from my lips.

  Ryder brought his mouth to my breast and sucked the hardened bud between his teeth. Then, he swirled his tongue over the tender flesh, soothing the ache. Wetness gathered between my legs as he applied the same sweet torture to my other breast. He slid his hand into the space between us, pressing his middle finger against my swollen clit.

  “Ryder,” I gasped.

  “Shh. You gotta be quiet, remember?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He kissed my neck while he continued strumming my clit.

  I took off my glasses, gingerly tossing them up by the pillows, and adjusted my position.

  “Ryder, I need you inside me. Please.”

  After a little maneuvering, he lined his rigid cock up with my entrance and pushed himself inside.

  I circled my legs around him as he placed his hands on my hips, bringing me closer.

  The fullness was almost too much.

  I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from crying out.

  Slowly, we began to move, finding our rhythm.

  Our mouths crashed together. Nipping. Sucking. Tasting.

  Each thrust deeper than the one before it.

  His fingers dug into my hips, slamming me onto his cock again and again.

  Pleasure and pain collided.

  I buried my head in the crook of his neck. “Ryder. Oh God,” I whimpered as my climax took hold, and I fell into bliss.

  Seconds later, he grunted his own release.

  “Damn, Pres,” he panted. “If that’s the kind of thanks I get for giving you a drawer in the bathroom, I’m happy to give up half the closet.” His deep chuckle vibrated against my skin.

  “Very funny.” I snuggled into him.

  Ryder drew lazy circles on my back with his fingertips. The gentle strokes caused my eyelids to flutter closed.

  We stayed connected for long minutes.

  “Pres?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you falling asleep on me?”

  I stifled a yawn. “Maybe?”

  “Come on, baby. Let’s get cleaned up and go to bed.”

  “Okay.”

  Even though Ryder’s cock had started to soften, I still winced as we disconnected. He helped me ease off his lap, and I put my glasses back on and excused myself to the bathroom, emerging a few minutes later.

  “I set out one of my T-shirts and a pair of boxers for you.” He pointed to his dresser. “But, you know, it’s fine by me if you want to sleep in the buff.”

  “I’m sure it is.” For some reason, I had never been comfortable sleeping completely naked, so I slipped on the clothes and gave him a peck on the lips as he passed me on his way to the bathroom.

  I set my glasses on the bedside table, crawled under the covers, and fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

  I woke with a start and blindly reached for my glasses, slipping them on my face.

  The glowing numbers on the digital clock read 2:40 a.m.

  There was that sound again. I quickly sat up and breathed out a sigh of relief when Ryder didn’t stir.

  I crept to the bedroom door and unlocked it. Then, I exited the room, nearly tripping over Turtle.

  Shit.

  I pulled the door closed and focused on the dog.

  “Hey there, boy,” I whispered. “What are you doing up?”

  Turtle trotted down the hall, stopping in front of the guest bathroom door. A sliver of light cast a glow on the hardwood.

  I tapped on the door. “Zeke? Hey, buddy, are you okay?”

  “No.”


  “Can I come in?”

  “Yeah.”

  His watery voice broke my heart.

  I twisted the knob and opened the door.

  He wiped at his tears. “I-I had an accident.”

  “It’s all right,” I told him, noticing the wet spot on the costume he still had on. “Don’t be upset. I’m going to get you some fresh clothes, and we’ll get you all cleaned up.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Turtle watched over his human as I crossed the hall into Zeke’s bedroom and flipped on the light. I found neatly folded underpants in the first drawer I opened and pajamas in the next. I grabbed what I needed and darted back to the bathroom.

  I placed his clothes on the edge of the counter farthest from the sink. Then, I turned on the faucets and ran warm water. I reached into the linen closet for a washcloth and dipped it into the water before wringing it out.

  After I shut off the water, I turned to Zeke. “I’m going to help you out of your wet clothes. Do you think you can clean yourself up with this”—I held out the washrag—“and put your dry pajamas on?”

  He nodded.

  I helped him undress and then gave him some privacy. I went across the hall to strip his bed before taking the soiled items to the laundry room and starting the wash.

  Zeke exited the bathroom with his underwear on and his shirt on backward. “Can you help me with my shirt?”

  “Of course. Why don’t you grab your pants too?”

  He went back into the bathroom, returning with his PJ bottoms.

  After I helped him right his clothes, he looked at me as if seeing me for the first time.

  “Um, Presley, are you having a sleepover?”

  It was entirely too early in the morning for this conversation, but Zeke wasn’t the kind of kid you could just blow off.

  “Well, it depends. Is it okay with you?”

  “Sure, but I peed in my bed, so now, where are we gonna sleep?”

  “How about the couch?”

  “All right. We can get the pillows off my bed. I didn’t pee on those.”

  Ten minutes later, I found myself sandwiched between Zeke and Turtle on the couch. I turned on the television, lowered the volume, and set the sleep timer. Ironically, the opening credits of Top Gun filled the screen.