Wicked Whiskey Love

by Melissa Foster

  As his appreciative sounds came back into focus, it seemed impossible that everything around her hadn’t shattered right along with her.

  “You’re so sexy, baby,” he rasped against her bottom.

  He pressed a kiss there, still fucking her with his fingers, every inward thrust taking her higher. “I want you to come on my mouth.”

  “Oh God—” Her arms and legs turned to jelly.

  “No?”

  “Yes! So much yes.”

  He flipped onto his back and guided her hips until she straddled his mouth. Good Lord, the man knew just what to do with that talented tongue. She rocked in time to his efforts, feeling the pull of another orgasm. Blood rushed through her ears, pounded through her veins. He fondled her breasts and squeezed her nipples, sending sharp zings ricocheting inside her. He sucked and fucked, tweaked and teased, until her whole body felt like one raw nerve. And then he did something exquisite with his mouth, and she bit down to keep from crying out as her climax consumed her.

  Before she came down from the peak, he guided her hips lower, shimmying up to devour her breasts as he pulled her down onto his shaft, thrusting hard, taking her up, up, up again—and holding her there, at the edge of a cliff. He was a master at heightening her arousal, at making her crave and ache, until she felt as though she’d sell her soul for release. But he’d never want that. He didn’t command or belittle; he coaxed and cherished, giving her exactly what she needed, at the perfect time.

  “Grab the headboard,” he said in a growly voice as he guided her trembling hands. “That’s it. Now lift up so just the head of my cock is inside you.”

  His dirty talk nearly did her in. And oh my! She followed his directions, and he thrust in and out, slowly, masterfully, sending her right up to the stars.

  He rose, bracketing her face with his strong hands, like he never wanted to let go, kissing her as she rode the waves of pleasure. One hand moved between her legs. His fingers wreaked havoc with her most sensitive nerves, working her over with a fast, precise rhythm as his shaft filled her. He filled her everywhere—in her heart, her mind, and her body. When she surrendered to their passion, lights exploded behind her closed lids, and he swallowed her every plea.

  “Keep holding on, gorgeous,” he coaxed as he withdrew from between her legs and moved behind her.

  There was no way she could let go of the headboard. She was trembling all over, her nerves were on fire, her heart was practically beating out of her chest, and she freaking loved every second of it. She was still trying to grasp the idea that sex could be hot and loving and that her pregnant body was capable of feeling this toe-curling good. She’d half believed that she’d mentally made their lovemaking into more than it really was Saturday night, but holy fudge, Bones was amazing.

  His lips touched her spine again, and his strong arms circled her. “I’ll go slow in case it’s uncomfortable.”

  She closed her eyes as he entered her one slow inch at a time, making every sensation excruciatingly intense. She felt the deep slide of his cock and the warm press of his hips, and then he took them both to paradise.

  Afterward, he pressed his loving lips to her back, and then he rested his cheek there, hugging her for a long moment. “Missed you today. All of you.” His hand moved over her belly.

  “Mm. I missed you, too.”

  “Let go of the headboard, baby. I’ve got you.”

  She did, and he lowered them both to their sides, spooning her, his cock still nestled between her legs. He kissed her cheek, her neck, whispering sweetly, “You okay, darlin’?”

  He was so intense and tender at the same time, emotions clogged her throat. It was all she could do to say, “Mm-hm.”

  A few minutes later, he put a little space between them and used his palm to massage her lower back. How did he know exactly what she needed? He kissed her shoulder, and she melted under his touch. She knew she shouldn’t allow herself to play in the sandbox of a hopeful future, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to stay right there, wrapped up in him, feeling the happiness that even thinking about him brought. She wanted to see her children’s eyes light up when he walked in the door a month from now, a year…

  She thought about when she’d seen him running through the rain and about his father coming to help her with the kids today. And she remembered he’d wanted to talk with her before she’d seduced him.

  “What did you want to talk to me about?” she asked.

  He kissed the back of her neck, pulling her close again. “It’s not exactly post-amazing-sex talk.”

  “Is it eating-popcorn-and-cuddling-on-the-couch talk?”

  He chuckled. “Hungry?”

  “You gave me quite a workout.”

  They took turns tiptoeing out to the bathroom, and Bones lovingly helped her dress amid stolen kisses and sinful promises of illicit love for another time. He hugged her as the popcorn popped, and she couldn’t think of a more perfect moment than being in the quiet house, her babies safely tucked in their beds and her man’s arms around her.

  “I never knew it could be like this,” she said softly, her arms around his neck.

  “It meaning sex?”

  She lifted her chin, gazing into his gorgeous eyes. “It meaning life. Sex, kissing, touching, talking. I spent so long living on edge, being afraid. I’m finally able to slow down and relax. Instead of fearing what comes next, I’m looking forward to it. I look forward to going to work, to talking with Chicki and my coworkers. To evenings like tonight with the girls, planning a birthday party for you and Lila and being part of your family’s Thanksgiving.” She went up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his neck. “And nights like this, with you. I’m afraid to be this happy, and at the same time, I don’t want to miss a second of it.”

  His smiling lips came down over hers, and then he said, “You’ll never have to miss it or be fearful again. That’s what I want to talk with you about.”

  They took the popcorn into the living room and sat on the sofa. Bones glanced at her notebook on the coffee table and said, “You’re writing a lot lately. Is that a good sign?”

  “Yes, I think so, but it feels off. I started writing a story for Tracey, trying to give her a happily ever after. But we’re not twelve years old. We know what the world is really like, and I don’t think a fictional story is what she needs. I’m going to keep writing because I enjoy it, but I’m not going to share it with her.”

  He slid an arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer. “You’re starting to clear the darkness from your life. Give it time and I’m sure you’ll find your muse.”

  She nibbled on popcorn, thinking about that. “I hope so. I enjoy writing. Maybe one day I’ll write stories for Lila and Bradley.”

  “Tru writes fairy tales for Kennedy and Lincoln. He’s been doing it since they came into his life. Maybe you two should collaborate.”

  “Look at you, building a business for me. Writing is too personal for me to write with someone else. It just feels good, probably like riding your bike does for you. By the way, thanks for sending your dad over today. I’m used to taking care of the kids, but it was the sweetest gesture.”

  He touched his lips to hers, and his eyes grew serious. “I would have come myself, but I was slammed all day. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I saw a patient, a single mother, and she brought up her ex-husband’s rights to her son. It made me think about the kids and this little peanut.”

  She probably shouldn’t put too much hope in the fact that he said the kids instead of your kids. But when he touched her stomach with a thoughtful expression, her emotions whirled.

  “Sarah, have you been in contact with Lewis at all since you left?”

  “No, and I want to keep it that way.” She sat back, her reverie broken. “I don’t want him near my kids. He’ll ruin them.”

  “I know, darlin’. That’s why I’m asking.”

  “Well, the answer is no, and I hope I never have to.”

  He pulled he
r closer again and said, “I know this is uncomfortable to talk about, but he’s their father. He can come back at any time and try to see them. I don’t want you, or them, to have to deal with that.”

  “Stop,” she said angrily, and climbed off the couch. “Why are you doing this? We had such a perfect night.” Just talking about him made her skin crawl. She wrapped her arms around herself.

  “Because we can’t ignore the possibilities. We need to talk about this. He has rights.”

  She pushed to her feet and paced. “He gave up those rights the minute he took drugs, and if that wasn’t enough, he put the nail in the coffin when he forced himself on me.”

  Bones went to her, but she shrugged him away. “I don’t want him in your life,” he said emphatically. “I want to prevent him from trying to come back to see the kids. We can try to get him to consent to giving up his parental rights. Then you’ll never have to look over your shoulder again.”

  She shook her head, her heart racing. “I can’t talk about this.” She put a hand on her chest. “It’s making me anxious just thinking about it.”

  “Then let me do it for you. Let me track him down and get him to sign the papers.”

  “No,” she snapped. “You don’t understand.” How could he? “We’re good. Me and my kids and you and me. I don’t want to open that door ever again. He’s never looked for me. Why would he in the future?”

  “What if he gets clean and realizes his mistakes? It happens.”

  She held up her hand, needing him to stop. “Don’t do that. Even if he gets clean, he still raped me.”

  “Do you think I want this?”

  The anger in his voice surprised her.

  “Do you think I want to talk about this? To bring up something that I know hurts you? I want to kill that motherfucker with my own hands. But I can’t do that because it would leave you and the kids alone.”

  He raked a hand through his hair and turned away. She watched his shoulders rise with every long inhalation, the tension in his shoulders easing with each exhalation. When he faced her again, his expression was softer.

  He reached for her, touching his fingers to hers, and said, “I’m falling in love with you, Sarah.”

  He paused long enough for his words to sink in, filling her with warmth and happiness. “You are?”

  “I am,” he said with a secret, surrendering smile, as if he had no choice in the matter, and that was A-OK with him. “I think of you and the kids all the time. I feel empty when we’re not together. I want you in my arms, in my bed. I want the kids with me. With us. I want to protect all of you and to teach the kids to share and stand up for themselves. I know three months is fast, and we’ve been more than friends for only a few weeks, but it’s been building since day one. I don’t need you to say it back. I just need you to know how I feel.”

  She curled her fingers around his. Her heart swelled and ached with happiness, and at the same time, with hurt for what he was asking her to do.

  “The thought of him coming anywhere near you makes me blind with rage,” he said evenly. “I can’t ignore something that could bring harm to you and the kids. I want—need—to eradicate that threat, Sarah. I want the guy in prison, but without evidence of what he did to you, it’d be a nightmare for you and possibly for the kids, too. All I’m asking is that you think about it. If not because I’m asking you, then for the kids. So when Bradley is eight or ten or fifteen, he won’t have to deal with that guy. So Lila will never have to face the man who did horrible things to you. So you won’t have to.”

  She sank down to the couch, tears welling in her eyes. “You’re falling in love with me, but you’re asking the impossible.”

  He knelt in front of her and put his hands around her, then kissed her belly. “I’m falling in love with all of you, and I’m asking that we try to clear a path of safety for your future. I’ll do it. You don’t even need to be involved.”

  “I can’t.” Tears slipped from her eyes. “What if he refuses and wants to see the kids?”

  “What if he agrees and signs the paper? He hasn’t come looking for you yet.”

  She tried to imagine Lewis agreeing, but that meant imagining his face, and panic burned in her chest, flooding the rest of her into a shaking, bawling mess.

  Bones gathered her against him, soothing his hand down her back, and said, “I’m sorry. Maybe it’s too soon.”

  “It’ll always be too soon,” she choked out. “I can’t take a chance of bringing him back into our lives.”

  “I’d never let that happen.”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I just can’t let you risk it.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  THE NEXT TWO days Sarah felt like she was being chased by a ghost. It was Wednesday afternoon, and she was at the shelter, cutting Ebony’s hair and thinking about her conversation with Bones. She’d managed not to think about Lewis coming back into her life by refusing to let her mind visit that awful darkness. But ever since Bones brought up the idea of getting him to terminate his parental rights, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She’d asked Scott his opinion, and apparently he’d been harboring worries about the same thing. Like Bones, Scott thought Lewis was a ticking time bomb. But since she’d told Scott early on that she didn’t want to talk about Lewis, Scott hadn’t pushed.

  But Bones had.

  Because he’s falling in love with me.

  Warmth flooded her. She’d never been in love. She’d only ever been in a state of hopeful, deep like with Lewis. And over time, instead of falling deeper into him, as she had with Bones, she’d become removed. She’d gone from hopeful, to being happy there was a roof over her head, to being terrified.

  “You’re not going to give me one of those boy haircuts like Tracey, are you?” Ebony asked with a wink. When they’d first met, she was all hard edges and rough talk. By the time Sarah had left on Saturday, Ebony had softened up, and today she was even less guarded.

  Sarah pushed her thoughts aside and snipped another lock of Ebony’s hair.

  “Only if you’re lucky.” Tracey looked up from her perch on the arm of the couch, where she was reading a book Sarah had loaned her about starting over after domestic abuse. Her bruises had faded to a yellowish green.

  “I love Tracey’s cut, but don’t worry,” Sarah reassured her. “You said I could cut it to just below your ears, and that’s as far as I’ll go.”

  “That’s what he said.” Ebony smirked. “Then he’s all hello, back door!”

  That brought a litany of jokes and comments. Thank goodness Camille’s children were playing across the room out of earshot. Sarah’s mind traveled back to Monday night, only this time she revisited the deliciousness she and Bones had shared in her bedroom. After growing up with parents who made her feel shameful for even being female, and being manhandled by her ex, she’d wondered if she had a chance at ever having a normal sex life. Now she wondered what normal was, if there was any such thing. Because while the girls talked about putting that particular area under lock and key, she didn’t think there was any part of her body she’d want to make off-limits to Bones.

  Did that mean she was healing?

  Did it make her normal?

  A whisper of worry tiptoed through her. Or does it make me trampy?

  Her answer came in the form of Bones’s loving voice whispering through her mind. I want to make love to you until I feel every beat of your heart and until every breath you take joins with mine. No, she wasn’t a tramp. She was a woman who was falling for a good, trustworthy man.

  She finished cutting Ebony’s hair and said, “Can I blow it dry?”

  “I never blow-dry my hair. It just gets frizzier.” Ebony ran her fingers through her newly shorn locks. “It feels so light.”

  “I thinned it out a little. I brought a diffuser and some product that will help reduce the frizz and enhance your natural curls. I can show you how to use them.”

  “Do it,” Camille encouraged. “My sister uses
a diffuser, and her hair always looks great.” She pointed to her own beautiful, straight blond hair and said, “Nothing can make my hair hold a curl, but her hair is like Sarah’s, thick and wavy.”

  “Okay, I’ll be your Barbie doll,” Ebony agreed. “But you’re not dressing me up in any of that girlie shit.” She tugged her T-shirt over her belly rolls. “I don’t need to be like Meghan Trainor, strutting my stuff in tight jeans and short skirts. No siree. That just brings man trouble.”

  “Just because we had bad men doesn’t mean they’re all bad,” Camille said. “Look at Dr. Hottie.”

  Tracey nudged Sarah. “That’s your Whiskey man. We’ve renamed him, and we’re all a little jealous.”

  “Oh my gosh. I’ve never been the target of jealousy before. It feels weird,” Sarah admitted as she plugged in her hair dryer and attached the diffuser. “I never imagined being with a man like him.”

  “Hot?” Camille asked.

  “Yes, but no,” Sarah said. “Thoughtful and kind. A guy who thinks about me and my children before anything else. How about if you call him Dr. Dreamy? Because when I think of him, it’s not his looks that come to mind first. He makes me feel all melty, and I swear when he’s with my kids, there are no words to describe that feeling.”

  Camille gazed across the room at her children. “I’d give anything for a man who put my children first. My husband treated them like they didn’t matter. He only cared that I was his to own, humiliate, and belittle.”

  Sarah and the others exchanged a wary glance. While Camille had told them she’d been hurt by her husband, she had been tight-lipped about just what kind of abuse she’d suffered. Now that she was opening up, Sarah could see that the other girls were just as worried as she was about how far he’d gone.