by Nikki Ash
After I showed her around our new home, Kayla explained that her mom insisted on sending the prenup over to her in case things didn’t work out. She said she planned to rip them up but felt guilty about not listening to her mom’s advice. We agreed there would be no more listening to her mom’s advice. When Kayla called to let her mom know we were eloping she flipped out. I took the phone from Kayla and made it clear to her mother that her negativity toward love and toward her daughter was no longer welcome.
We decided to have the ceremony at the Church and then hold the reception-slash-New Year’s Eve party at our new place. There is no other way I would rather bring in the New Year than with Kayla as my wife and surrounded by the people who love us.
“Do you, Kayla Peterson, take Bentley Cruz to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, to love and cherish, from this day forward until death do you part?”
“I do,” she states excitedly with the most beautiful smile on her face.
I slide the wedding band on her finger that matches the engagement ring and then she slides my wedding band onto my finger. The ordained minister announces us husband and wife and tells me I can kiss my bride.
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I take my wife in my arms and kiss her, hoping to pass along every emotion I feel in this moment through our kiss. Everybody claps and Faith and Nathan both squeal and clap as well copying off of everybody else. We grab Faith from my mom and give her a kiss.
Liz takes a few pictures of the three of us and then some with my parents and Kayla’s brother before we all head back to our house to celebrate.
We arrive at the house and a few minutes later everybody else is pulling up to join us. I notice Caleb isn’t here yet. “Hey, has anybody seen Caleb?”
Nobody has heard from him since we left the church so I shoot him a text.
Me: Yo! Where are you? We’re all at the house?
I wait a few minutes and, when I don’t hear back from him, send him another text.
Me: Caleb! Everything okay?
I still don’t hear back from him and I start to worry. I ring his cell but it goes to voicemail.
Kayla comes over and puts her arms around me from behind. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t get a hold of Caleb.”
“He probably just stopped off at home.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Just as I’m about to call him again he comes walking in the door looking stressed.
“Hey, man! What happened? Did you get lost?”
“No, sorry, I had to stop at the gym on my way here. Marco didn’t realize the gym was closed because of the holiday and wedding so I gave him a ride home.”
Over the last several months Marco and Caleb have definitely grown closer. When he isn’t attending the MMA classes, he’s helping out around the gym cleaning windows and washing towels. Cooper doesn’t really need the help, but if it means Marco is safe and off the streets he’ll continue to find stuff for the kid to do.
“It’s a good thing you do for that kid.” And that’s the truth. Caleb makes sure the kid is home safe every day even if it means he follows him home without the kid knowing.
“Yeah, I just wish there was more I could do.”
“Like what? What are you thinking?”
“I don’t know… I just don’t know.” He shakes his head, looking defeated, and I know the conversation is over for now.
We head to the backyard to join everyone in celebrating our wedding as well as New Year’s. The radio counts down and when it hits midnight I give my wife a kiss. Everybody is cheering and hollering, but I can’t stop kissing her. She moans into my mouth and I grab her by the ass and lift her into my arms, her legs wrapping around my waist.
“Bentley, stop.” She giggles but continues to grind her pussy into my stomach clearly wanting me to continue.
Everybody is laughing at us and Cooper says, “We get it. We get it. You’re newlyweds and need some alone time.”
My parents take Faith back to their place for the night and after everybody leaves I grab my wife and bring her up to our bedroom to make love for the first time as a married couple.
* * *
Kayla
Bentley and I are finally alone. We make our way up to our bedroom and when we’re near the bed he grabs my hand and pulls me to him.
“I love you, Mrs. Cruz. You have made me a very happy man today.”
I can’t help but laugh when he says my new name. I can’t believe we’re married. I really am Mrs. Bentley Cruz.
“I love you, too, Mr. Cruz. Now, are you going to make love to your wife or stare at her all night?”
“I’m definitely going to make love to you.”
He turns me around and unzips my white dress I wore for our wedding. It’s not a traditional wedding dress, but it flowed to my knees and hugged all the right places making me feel pretty.
Once the dress is unzipped, Bentley grabs the straps and pushes them over my shoulders, letting the dress fall to the floor.
“Damn, Mrs. Cruz, you look exquisite.” Of course I’m wearing white bridal style lingerie under my dress. It’s silky and sheer and barely there, just the way Bentley likes it.
Still standing behind me, he takes his hands and glides them down my arms and over my ass. He continues around to my sex, pulling my body to his. Once our bodies are flush against each other he takes my face and tilts it to the side, laying open mouth kisses along my neck and then across collarbone, heading to my shoulder.
He continues to work his way down my body, kissing every square inch of my skin until he’s kneeling behind me, giving my ass cheeks kisses. He turns me around and I see that at some point he took off his clothes as well because he’s only in his boxers. His face is parallel to my pussy and when I look down, he’s smiling.
He reaches forward and gives my pussy a light kiss and then looks up at me giving me a sexy smirk. I back up to the bed and sit down. He spreads my legs, opens up my pussy, and begins to lick.
My head goes back in pleasure, but then he stops and says, “I want you to watch. Watch me lick your pussy, baby,” and my head snaps back up.
I watch his tongue dart out to my clit and lick me up and down slowly, getting me wet with desire. He inserts a finger and then two into my core while he continues to devour me. I’m mesmerized by how erotic it is watching my husband make love to my pussy with his mouth.
When my body can’t take it anymore I come all over his fingers and mouth. Before I’m even come down from my high, he’s up, grabbing my legs and parting them enough so he’s standing between them. He lifts one of my legs over his shoulder and my other one locks around his waist. He guides his dick into me at an angle and begins to thrust deep into me, hitting my G-spot. My already sensitive pussy begins to convulse again as he pumps into me over and over again sending my body into a complete frenzy.
Bentley picks up his speed, his eyes closed, and I know he’s about to find his own release. He opens them up at the last second and stares into my eyes as he comes in me. I’ve never felt closer to anybody than I feel to Bentley right now.
He bends down and gives me a kiss. “I love you, baby.”
We clean up in the bathroom and then lie down in bed.
He wraps his arms around me holding me close.
“We did it,” I whisper.
He chuckles and says, “Yeah, we did. Now you’re mine for life, woman.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Thank you for always having faith in us, Bentley.”
“I’ll always have faith in us, baby.”
He gives me a kiss on my neck and we fall asleep.
* * *
Bentley
About four hours later
I hear the phone ringing and jump up to grab it. It’s still dark out and my first thought is something must have happened to Faith.
I answer the phone without even looking at the caller ID but see
the clock reads four in the morning.
“Hello?”
“Yes, hello. My name is Jillian. I’m a nurse at Sunrise Hospital. Is this Bentley Cruz?”
“Yes, it is,” I say in a panic, praying my parents and Faith are okay.
“Baby, who is it?” Kayla groggily asks, barely awake.
“I have a Caleb Michaels here in the ICU. You’re his emergency contact.”
My body sags in relief that the call isn’t pertaining to my daughter, but then immediately goes into distress learning my best friend is hurt.
“What happened?”
“He was brought in by ambulance. Somebody called nine-one-one and reported finding him. When they brought him in he was unconscious and beaten severely. I can’t discuss the details over the phone, but his injuries are life threatening. Can you come down here?”
I jump up out of bed and grab whatever clothes I can find to throw on. “Yeah, I’m on my way.”
Kayla is now sitting up looking scared shitless.
“It’s Caleb. Somebody found him beaten almost to death. He’s at the hospital in the ICU.”
Kayla immediately gets out of bed and gets dressed as well. Once we are in the car, she texts our friends to let them know what we know. We ride to the hospital in silence, praying our friend will be okay.
Fighting series: book three
by
Fighting for Your Touch
Copyright © 2017 Nikki Ash
All rights reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Cover image: DepositPhotos
Cover designer: Jersey Girl Designs
Dedication
To my mom, who spent hours upon hours fostering my love for reading.
Prologue
Caleb
Seven Years Ago
“What the fuck is going on?” my dad yells at me, red faced, fists tight at his side like it’s taking everything in him not to punch me in my face. He’s not even questioning her. He’s already made up his mind I’m to blame. Of course I’m to blame. There’s no way his precious wife could be.
I’m standing face to face with him in my bedroom with my pants and boxers around my ankles. My dick is flaccid, but let’s be honest, it usually is when I’m around her. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with my dick. I know it works properly since I’ve spent most of my teenage years fucking women I wish I could forget about. You don’t know how many times I’ve jacked off hoping it wouldn’t get back up again for them. If it can’t get up what good am I to her, or any of them for that matter? Maybe if it stopped working she and all those other fucking women would leave me the hell alone. Unfortunately my dick doesn’t work that way—it doesn’t just shut off. After a while it goes hard again whether I want it to or not, and trust me, I definitely don’t want it to.
Before attempting to answer his clearly rhetorical question, I reach down and pull my pants up so my dick is no longer hanging out. The conversation is already awkward as fuck as it is, no need to add to the awkwardness of my father coming home early from a business trip to find his slutty wife with her mouth wrapped around my cock. I shoot a glare at the woman who is the reason behind all this, hoping she’ll for once do the right thing and admit the truth. I know it’s not going to happen, but I can hope. I have learned two things about women, they’re gold digging bitches and they can’t be fucking trusted. Every time I think I can trust a woman she proves me wrong.
She raises her eyebrows in defiance at me and I know I’m on my own here. I wouldn’t expect anything less from that cunt.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath in and then exhale slowly, attempting to calm myself before I try to persuade my dad of something I already know he isn’t going to believe. My hands are shaking, and I have a horrible feeling this is going to end badly for me. It’s just the way my life goes.
“Dad, please listen to me. It’s not what it looks like. This is all her.” There is so much more I want to say. So much more to this whole fucked up ordeal. But my dad is under enough stress as it is. I don’t want to add to it. Sure, he has made mistakes. He’s definitely not perfect, but he’s been through a lot these past few years and I don’t want to be the reason he goes through even more.
Tears of anger and frustration are clogging my tear ducts, and the lump in my throat is making it hard to breathe. The most frustrating thing is trying to prove to someone you aren’t lying without having any proof, especially without being able to explain the entire story. Because of the secrets I’ve been forced to keep, my dad’s caught me in too many lies to count that I couldn’t explain. I don’t blame him for not believing me now. Trust is hard to earn and easy to lose. Shit, if I were him, I wouldn’t believe me.
Even if I was a complete saint, the evidence stacked up against me looks bad, and judging by the look on my dad’s face, he doesn’t believe a damn word I’m saying. I want to tell him the truth. I don’t want to keep these secrets from him, but once the truth is out there, I can never take it back, and I don’t know how she will react. What if she makes good on her threats? Then every nasty, fucked up thing I have endured from all these women will be for nothing. My dad has lost so much. He deserves more than to have his entire life destroyed.
“He’s lying, Adam. He came on to me. I was scared,” she says with crocodile tears streaming down her face. Her cheeks are stained black from the overdone mascara her fake-ass wears. The truth is, her cheeks aren’t stained from crying, it’s from her taking my cock so deep down her fucking throat it choked her to the point of tears. Just thinking about her mouth on my dick makes me want to throw up.
When he turns to me, she shoots me a glare making it clear to keep my mouth shut. If he only knew the truth about his precious wife, he would run the other way and never look back. The problem is, she’s a smart, manipulative bitch and he has no idea the person she really is—not like I do.
He looks at me with longing in his eyes then looks back at her with what looks like disappointment, and for a second I think maybe he’s going to believe me over her, that he can see through all her bullshit and lies. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Gloria tense up. She’s thinking the same thing I am.
“I didn’t want this,” I blurt out as a last chance, praying he believes me. Praying he chooses me. Maybe he will kick her out and she’ll be out of our lives for good. I’m not sure if she’ll make good on her threats if he kicks her out, but we can deal with it all together. I’ll do whatever it takes to help my dad, which is precisely how I got in this fucked up position to begin with.
My dad looks back at Gloria one more time and her face goes stoic. She gives nothing away at first, but then with a small lift of her one eyebrow, she silently tells him something causing him to visibly stiffen. They appear to be having a silent conversation of some sort. I wish I knew what the fuck they were saying.
Instantly my dad’s demeanor changes from sad to pissed. He cocks his fist and punches the wall I’m standing in front of, his fist going through it.
Dry wall crumbles everywhere.
Gloria screeches like she’s afraid.
Give me a fucking break. That woman eats up and spits out grown men on a daily basis.
He walks up to me until we’re only inches apart, his face right in mine. I’m tall at six-foot-two. He isn’t quite as tall as me, but he’s still a big guy. He looks slightly
up into my eyes and with an eerily calm voice says, “I don’t know why you would do this, but I am not going to have you destroying this family with your lies. I’m going to give you one chance to change your story or you’re out of here.”
My shoulders sag in defeat and my head drops down shaking back and forth knowing this was coming but still shocked. I look back up into his eyes and see a glimpse of something… it’s almost as if he’s begging me to change my story, but I can’t do that. I might not be able to tell him the entire truth, but I’m not going to take responsibility for choosing to fuck that money-hungry, lying, blackmailing cunt. He thinks I’m trying to destroy this family with my lies… If he only knew I’m actually trying to save this family… No, fuck that. I’m trying to save him. We don’t have a family; they’re all dead.
I swallow back the hurt and stand straight up. I lift my chin and, with the little bit of respect I have left for myself, say the only thing I can say. “I’m out of here.”
Turning my back on him, I grab a backpack to pack my shit. I can feel his eyes on me, watching me, but I can’t look at him. The only family I have left just chose that piece-of-shit woman over his own son. I hear the door close behind them and a few seconds later my phone dings indicating a text.
Nasty Bitch: Don’t fuck with me.
I don’t bother to reply. I completely understand her text. If I try to tell my dad the entire truth she will destroy everything he’s worked for.