by Gabriel Love
I whimper as he moves lower, kissing me between the hips, then pressing his lips to the mound between my legs. His hand parts my thighs and guide my knees apart while he kneels on the end of the bed.
I lift my head, my cheeks stinging as I realize I’m bared to his gaze. He can see everything with me like this. His fingers gently part the flesh between my legs and I feel him slip a blunt finger into me. It finds a magical spot inside and I drop my head back with a whimper.
I feel his lips on me and everything tenses up. My thighs instantly try to slam shut, but he pushes them back with an elbow and hand, holding them down to the sides as his tongue finds the bundle of nerves and begins to tease it in circles.
This isn’t something I’m familiar with. I mean, I’ve heard of it, obviously, but no one’s ever done it to me.
“Axl,” I whimper.
“Relax,” he growls into me and it’s like he hit a switch. My whole body melts and he gives a growl of agreement before really burying his face in me. “So sweet,” he says, the vibration sending my heart into overdrive. The sensations are incredible, so focused on my clit, yet gentle enough not to hurt.
“Please don’t stop,” I moan as he begins to circle and slash my button with incendiary motions that make my breaths refuse to come normally. Every single inhale is ragged, dragged in through my nose. Every exhale is spotty, forced out. My belly twitches uncontrollably and my hips are begging me to buck. To move, to grind against his face until I explode.
My hips jolt with the motion of his tongue and I feel him plant a hand on my belly, holding me down in a way that makes me moan. Being at his mercy is so freaking sexy. Especially since I trust him. I trust him.
Everything in me is gathering. I feel the pleasure creeping in, feel every muscle lock in place and begin to twitch. I’m on the edge of something great and I can feel it with every pass of his tongue. The seal of his lips around me slips a little and the wet, sexy noise destroys me.
“Axl!” I whimper as I feel my whole body begin to shudder. His tongue teases my clit gently as his finger moves within me, sliding in and out with the rhythm of the rippling pulses of my body. Dragging in a gasp, I struggle against the lightheaded, dizzy feeling of euphoria.
His lips and tongue gently touch and I feel him give me a little nibble that’s equal parts pleasure and pain and I moan, pulling back a little. My whole body is oversensitive, aching and sweet. And I want more. I open my arms to him even as there’s a knock at the door.
“Room service!”
He lifts his head, evil grin locked in place. “Oh, yeah, I ordered lunch.” He drags a knuckle down my cheek. “I thought you might be hungry.” The suggestive words are all it takes for my body to be ready for him again and I whimper.
Chapter Twenty
Axl
After another solid block of time spent riding, we’ve stopped again. It’s another motel room, another night. She’s on the bed, lying on her back and my head is resting on her ribs. Her fingers are combing through my hair and she’s talking in a low, intimate voice that ignites desire in my blood. But I promised myself I’d let her be tonight.
She needs rest and I need to figure out how the fuck to back the hell off her. She’s not mine. I’m just having a fuck ton of trouble convincing myself of that.
The vibration of her chest as she talks is a low, soothing rumble in my head and I feel content. “I just want a little house.” I hear her smile without even looking at her. I know her gaze is far away, lost in something only she can see. And I know she asked me for permission to tell me her plans. I’m not sure if she wanted permission because she’s used to needing permission to speak from Carl or if she was worried about boring me with her ideas. Both thoughts are troubling.
“Something with a backyard.” The hope in her voice is infectious. “Not a huge backyard, but big enough for a little garden. For a swing set for the kids I plan to have.” She gives a low, sensual laugh. “Two kids. Hopefully an older boy and a younger girl. That way he can take care of her as they grow up.”
It’s hard not to imagine her as a wonderful mom.
“Of course,” she continues, “it would have to be someplace nice enough I’d be willing to bring my parents to visit. You fall asleep yet?” she teases and I shake my head. I could listen to her talk all night.
“Am I boring you to tears yet?” her voice is joyous, like speaking these hopes out lout is solidifying them. Making them possible.
“No,” I say. I want to ask her to keep going. Because when she talks about these things, I can imagine them for myself, too. Her plans sound perfect. They’re things I never even wanted. Life as a kid who lost his mother was rough. Life as a teenager in the system after losing both parents… fucked me up. I didn’t want to have kids. I didn’t want them to ever be in a position to go through what I went through.
But when she says it, it’s like my brain suddenly sees it as a real possibility. A home. Roots. A wife. Kids. A dog. I can see it in mind’s eye. See her laughing as the kids play in the dirt. See her teaching them to plant and pull weeds. See her pushing them on a little backyard swing set. I can see her being a mother that children would need. Someone strong, loving. Firm, yet kind. She’d be incredible at it.
“Have you ever considered settling down and having a family?” she asks.
I shake my head. Before her, before this moment, I swore I’d never have kids. “I told myself I’d never have kids,” I say. I feel her tighten up. Feel her sharp intake of breath.
“You’d be a great dad,” she says softly, her fingers still coming through my hair gently.
“My dad was a bastard,” I say, bitterly hating the man. “After my mom died, he drank himself to death. He didn’t give a shit about Dex and me. He didn’t give a fuck that we’d wind up in foster care. He told us he lived for her, we were just the pesky side effect of loving her.”
She doesn’t say a word, just keeps stroking my head sweetly and I keep talking. “But my mother was incredible. Five feet of sweet kindness without a hint of fire in her. She deserved better than us boys.” Memories of the things we’d broken, the fights we’d had fill my mind and regret crashes in behind them. I can still hear her begging us to break it up I can still see dad on the couch, yelling at us to stop interrupting the game.
“It’s just you and Dex, then?” she asks. “No grandparents, not aunts and uncles? Anything?”
I shake my head and feel her inhale sharply.
“I never wanted to bring kids into such a cruel world,” I say. A cruel world where their parents could be ripped away at any time, leaving them alone and at the mercy of people that didn’t have their best intentions in mind. I found my family in the wrong place.
“You’re not your dad,” she says, conviction in every word.
But I’m not so sure. “How do I know that? I’ve never been in love before you and how can I be sure I won’t feel the same way he did?”
She’s quiet a moment. “You’re right,” she says finally. “There’s no way to know for sure. But I do know that you’re not selfish. You’re not that kind of man.”
She doesn’t know what kind of man I am.
“I’d like to think I know you,” she says softly and I realize I must have spoken my thoughts aloud. “You dropped everything to ride across the state with me. You gave up a lot to help me, risking your own neck, your business, your time. You’re not selfish.”
Neither of us say anything for a few minutes.
When she does speak, her voice is soft and soothing. “You’d be a great dad.”
Squeezing my eyes closed, I let her words flow around me. “You’re a good man.” Her fingers slide along my scalp and the tension ebbs out of me.
And I relax, feeling at peace with this crazy world. Maybe there is hope, after all. Maybe life is shit wall to wall, but perhaps there’s hope. Maybe a family, a wife are the glimmers of joy that would make everything worthwhile.
“What kind of dog?” I ask.
/> “Dog?” she says, “I’m a cat person.” I lift my head to look at her with disbelief and she laughs.
Chapter Twenty One
Caitlin
“I’m done running,” I say.
He glances at me, his eyes serious.
“I can start over right here. It’s a half hour drive from my parents. Not too far, but far enough.” I see the corners of his lips twitch and can’t keep the smile off my face. I’d considered not talking about my parents because of what he’d shared with me, but I’d realized that that would upset him more. Acting like I don’t have parents because he doesn’t wouldn’t help anything.
He says nothing but pulls me into a tight hug. I cling to him, blinking back tears. This man has done so much for me. He means so much to me. The thought of him walking away aches down to my bones and squeezes the breath right out of my lungs.
“Stay with me,” I whisper.
“I can’t,” he growls.
“You can,” I counter. I’m giving him permission to stay. Heck, I’m telling him to stay. What more does he need?
He backs off a step and grabs both my arms just below my shoulders. His grip is gentle and reassuring as his serious eyes lock on mine. “I’m all wrong for you,” he says and I shake my head, focusing my gaze on a spot on the carpet across the room and refusing to look at him again.
But he’s not done. “You’ll find someone who can love you wholly and give you the life you deserve.”
“Shouldn’t that be my choice?” I ask, hating the tears crowding my eyes. They cling to my lashes, refusing to actually fall and that’s the only saving grace.
His eyes narrow a tiny bit. “Shouldn’t it be mine?” I feel his hands squeeze a little. “I’m not a good man. There’s always a chance that the brothers will stop on my doorstep and demand I do another job.”
I stiffen up.
He seems to jump on my reaction. “Yes. You know who I’m talking about. You know that any life with me would be dangerous and unpredictable. I could be pulled away at any time.” Or killed, if another leader muscled in and decided he knew too much.
“How did you get out?” I ask, curious.
He shakes his head. “I didn’t. I never will. Nobody ever gets out unless they’re in a body bag.”
“I’m not afraid,” I whisper.
His expression tightens. “You should be.”
And ice water runs through my veins. He was one of them. Which means he… did things. Evil, ugly things. But so did I. I’m not perfect, who the heck do I think I am expecting more of someone else than I can do myself?
Lowering my head, I stare at the floor. There’s no way I can convince him.
“Hey,” he says, that throaty growl sending heat screaming through me. “I got you an interview.”
“How did you know I’d stay here?” I ask.
The corners of his lips draw back a little, but it’s not quite a smile. “Lucky guess.” Something about the answer doesn’t sit right, but I shrug it off. He’s never given me a reason to doubt him. Or distrust him. I’m not about to start now. I’m in whole heartedly and there’s not a thing he could do to change that.
“What kind of job?” I ask, knowing I’m more than a little thin in the experience department. It hadn’t taken long for Carl to get me fired form a handful of jobs and I’d been on my way out when I’d finally quit the last one the day I’d decided to run.
“You’ve been through hell,” he says and I sit back on the bed in the hotel room. “That’s a terrible thing, but it might be a blessing too.” His eyes are locked on mine and I shiver. “You can advocate for other women going through domestic violence. The job will train you and even send you to school if you want. It will allow you to help people who can’t help themselves.”
It’s… perfect.
I open my mouth, wondering what to say next. And I say nothing.
“You’ve got an interview for ten am tomorrow. I did divulge some personal information, but very little.” There’s a grin toying with the corners of his lips and I just stare at him, feeling like an idiot.
It’s the perfect job. One I didn’t even know existed. Stunned, I just stare at him, seeing his eyes tick back and forth between mine, his serious expression returning. There’s even a little crease between his dark eyebrows. I know I need to say something, but nothing is coming out. I just… can’t. This might be the best news I’ve ever gotten… on the heels of the worst news I’ve ever gotten. I’ll have the perfect job… but he won’t be here to celebrate with me.
Sadness washes through me and I suck in a deep, pained breath. I see the worry in his eyes even as tears crowd my eyes again. He’s freaking perfect for me! Why can’t he see it? I blink, watching him study me carefully.
“Did I overstep?” he asks, his hands falling away from my shoulders and meeting before him in a deceptively casual stance.
Overstep?
“It’s… perfect,” I whisper, unable to even speak in a normal voice around the aching lump forming in my throat. The only way it could be more perfect is if he was staying with me. Stepping into his arms, I tilt my head back and pull him down. Our lips meet and I cling to him, basking in his warmth, loving the safety I feel in his arms, and doing my very best to commit every second with him to memory.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
His arms circle me, his hands pressing flat to my back and gripping me tightly. Like he doesn’t want to let me go. And our lips touch again. The bittersweet sensations battle for control in me and I want to let them go and just enjoy this moment. Just enjoy him.
Chapter Twenty Two
Axl
I hear her sharp intake of breath as she steps over the threshold. It’s the third house today she’s looked at and something about this one feels different. She looks up at me, her expression all joy and excitement.
And I think about how this whole day has been strange. She’d asked me to go house hunting with her. It’s too normal. Too easy to be with her right now, helping her plan her future and knowing I won’t be part of it.
But part of me can imagine this being real. I could imagine being part of her life. Picking the perfect house with her. Not that I give a fuck about the house. I’d gladly live in a shithole hovel if she was there with me. She makes the home, not the building.
But she’s not fucking mine. I need to remember that.
I’m a temporary fixture in her life. We’re not making a home together. I don’t get to live life with her. I don’t get to drag her down with my shit.
We follow the real estate agent into the kitchen. And I can imagine Caitlin playfully chasing kids around the island and making pancakes. I can see her smile in mind’s eye as the kids do homework at the bar area.
“This kitchen is great,” Caitlin says, elbowing me and I nod, swallowing hard.
“Of course, it’s got this big glass front refrigerator that connects to an app your phone and updates your shopping list,” The agent chatters on and on, her cheerful tone giving me a headache.
“Fancy,” Caitlin grins at me.
In the staged dining room, my brain replaces the ugly table with something wooden and honey colored. I can imagine kids coloring at the table. I can imagine Caitlin sitting and doing homework with them and all the little kid crafts she’d likely do with them.
The sliding glass doors to the back are open, but I can’t see much beyond a little deck area. “Let’s look in the rooms,” The agent says in that cheerful tone that’s like nails on a chalkboard. We follow her and I feel Caitlin lean into me. Supporting her weight, I glance around the open, airy room with its view of the huge weeping willow out front. A tree that we’d hang a tire swing in.
I imagine a teenaged daughter sneaking out this window. Her older brother keeping her safe while they do the things that kids do.
And I see Caitlin’s eyes shining.
“It’s four bedrooms, two and a half baths, plus a bonus room that’s been used for laundry,” The agent contin
ues and I fantasize about stuffing a rag in her mouth and leaving her trussed up in the driveway and just walking the place at my leisure with Caitlin.
“So much for not needing a big place,” I tease Caitlin. She sticks her tongue out at me like a child and I chuckle.
“I was willing to go with three bedrooms,” she hisses. “But four means a guest room for mom and dad while the kids grow up.”
“What a wonderful idea. When you are two due?” The agent asks and I see Caitlin glance from the agent’s face to me, shock in her big eyes.
“Um, we’re not… Caitlin says, then shakes her head.
“Sure. We’re not sure. That doctor’s appointment is coming up soon enough,” I say, cuddling Caitlin close. She stares up at me, stunned. The agent nods, approval in her eyes.
“Well, it’s a nice neighborhood with good schools in the area.” The agent turns and I see Caitlin giving me a what the hell look.
It’s easier than explaining, I mouth and she seems to consider my words before nodding hesitantly.
I hear my phone chime and know Dex is checking in. Just like I’d asked him to do after the whole Carl bullshit. The text is just that things are running smoothly. I stare at my phone, struggling. And I dive.
The place is yours now.
A second passes. Come again?
Take it or sell it. It’s yours.
Another second passes. Then the phone rings. I see Caitlin glance over her shoulder at me, worry in her eyes before a smile transforms her face. She steps into the next room with the real estate agent as I talk to my brother.
“Okay, so you’re not dead and your phone hasn’t been hijacked by assclowns. What the fuck, man?”
“I mean it. The place is yours. Sell it, run it, I don’t give a fuck.” I’m sure as hell not going back. I’ve got a woman to protect. And it might mean spending the rest of my life just hanging back and watching her move on with her life.