“I think I’d like that.”
I kiss the tip of her nose. “I would too.”
My lips hover over hers and she sucks in a breath. Then she steps onto her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine. I freeze. I stare into her startled, untrusting gaze, and then I slide a hand up the back of her neck and hold her tightly. The towel she wrapped around her head falls to the floor, so I palm the back of her head, tilt my face, and kiss her.
Her lips are soft and warm, and they’re a little shocked, but she softens under me, and her arms slip around my shoulders. She holds me tightly as she kisses me back. Her mouth parts on a whimper, and I slide my tongue inside, tentative at first, but her tongue meets mine and…
“Eww, gross,” I hear from behind me. I close the kiss, lift my mouth from hers, and rub my nose up and down the side of her nose as I squeeze my eyes tightly shut.
“They’re right behind me, aren’t they?” I whisper.
Wren looks over my shoulder. “Yep.”
“Are you two, like, boyfriend and girlfriend now?” Anna asks.
I open my mouth to say no, but Wren says, “Yes.” She holds my hand tightly as I step back. “Yes, we are.” She looks up at me with a question in her eyes. “We are, aren’t we?” I see the uncertainty written all over her face.
“We are,” I say. We abso-fucking-lutely are. “You two get your stuff together so we can get it loaded in the car, okay?” They run around the corner, only to run right back, both of them holding their noses. “What’s wrong?” I ask, although I can already guess.
“Roxy has a poopy diaper,” Devon says, still holding his nose.
“I’ll get it,” I say, but as I move to walk away, Wren tugs the fingers she’s still holding and pulls me back to her. She steps up onto her tiptoes and kisses me quickly and softly.
“I want to be really honest with you, so I want you to know that you can ask me anything and I’ll tell you the truth. Anything at all,” she says.
“Okay…” I’m a little confused.
“I just want to be sure you know what I’m thinking. I’m going to be more direct about my feelings.” Her face flushes. “Well, a little less direct than climbing into a shower with you naked. But still…”
“I want to say something really inappropriate but it might be too soon.” I bite my lips together.
“What is it?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. It’s not important.”
“Well, now it’s important, because I’m going to wonder what it is.”
I step closer to her and stare down into her face. “When you climbed into the shower with me…”
“Yes?”
“I really liked the bush.”
Her brow furrows. “What bush?”
I look down toward her lap and back up. “That bush. No landing strip. No naked skin. Perfect.”
Her cheeks grow rosy. “Oh, well, that’s good to know.”
I press my lips against hers. “I just wanted you to know in case you were thinking about shaving it off before I get you naked again. You know, prepping for the big day.”
“And…you…don’t want me to prep…that.” She points down with her index finger.
“Fuck, no,” I growl against her lips. “It’s perfect, just like the rest of you.” I kiss her again and then I go to change a diaper. Or two. Or four. Hell, I can’t remember my own name, much less who has a poopy diaper.
As I walk out of the room, I see Wren sink back to lean against the counter, as though her knees have gone weak. I’m glad I’m not the only one.
Wren
We make it almost to Davenport, close to where Iowa meets Illinois, before we stop again. Last night, the kids were comfortable and tired, so Mick and I took turns driving. He drove while I slept, and I drove while he slept. Now it’s almost ten pm, and the kids are asleep, except for Chase. He had a late nap in the car, and now that we’re at the hotel, he thinks it’s time to party. I’m holding him in my lap, counting his fingers and toes, and he laughs at me when I yawn.
“You think that’s funny. You think everything is funny.” But then his face scrunches up. “Except for me telling you you’re funny, apparently,” I mutter. He didn’t want his bottle a few minutes ago, but he happily accepts it now. As his eyes begin to close, my phone starts to buzz quietly from across the room. I don’t want to move Chase to go get it. They’ll call back.
Mick has gone out to get groceries for tomorrow, so we can make some sandwiches and some snacks. He should be back any minute.
My phone buzzes again, and Mick comes through the door at the same time. He has shopping bags looped over one arm, while he holds a rolled bundle of magazines under the other. He talks into his phone. “She’s fine. She’s right here. I just got back to the hotel and I’m looking at her.” He rolls his eyes. “I promise that she’s fine. She’s holding a sleeping baby in her lap.” He walks to me and holds out the phone. “It’s Emilio.”
I take it and put it on speaker. “You people don’t give up, do you?” I ask. If they don’t get me immediately on my phone, they just call Mick’s.
“I’m sending two security guys to you. They should be there before you wake up.”
I sit up a little, careful of Chase sleeping in my lap. “Why?”
Mick unrolls a few of the magazines that were stuck under his arm. The headlines on the gossip magazines are stark and glaring.
FALLEN FROM ZERO BAND MEMBER HAS FALLEN TOO FAR
IS WREN VASQUEZ LEADING A DOUBLE LIFE?
SHE STOLE HER MAN, AND NOW SHE’S RAISING HER KIDS
“Oh, good grief.” I get up and put Chase in his portable crib. “When did all this start?” I ask, as I sit back down.
Mick leans into me, laughing silently as he sees a headline that says STAY-AT-HOME DAD REVEALS WREN VASQUEZ IS A SEX ADDICT. THAT’S WHY THEY HAVE SO MANY KIDS. He wipes a pretend tear from his eye.
“It started today,” Emilio says. “I don’t like it. I’m sending two guys, whether you like it or not.”
I flip open one of the magazines and see a picture of me and Mick standing beside the van, along with the four children, in front of the last hotel we stayed at. “Okay,” I say quietly.
“What?” Emilio barks. “Did you just say okay?”
“Yes, I said okay. They’re taking pictures of the kids. And I didn’t even see them.”
Since Mick and I were going to be in the car most of the time, I’d thought I could go incognito and I didn’t bring security with me. Apparently, that was a mistake. They even took pictures of us sitting at a local fast food restaurant as we ate burgers. The photos are grainy, and you can’t see the kids well, but still… They’re innocent in all this.
“Do you want to just fly them the rest of the way? You could get them there in a few hours.”
Mick shakes his head.
“No, their mother wanted them to be driven. She has enough going on right now without someone betraying her trust,” I tell Emilio.
He sighs heavily. “Well, look for two dapper dudes with mirrored sunglasses and high-dollar shoes. They’ll rent a bigger van, too, and I’ll just have someone else drive mine back.”
“Oh, can they do the driving?” I ask, suddenly excited.
“I think they’ll insist on it,” Emilio says.
Mick gives me a thumbs-up, and his eyes sparkle with excitement. Who knew driving across the country would be so tiring?
“Okay,” I say. “We’ll be on the lookout for them.”
“So, how’s the trip going?” Emilio asks.
I take the phone off speaker and Mick goes to put the groceries away in the cooler and in the fridge. “It’s going fine. The kids are great. They’re amazing, really.”
“How’s it going with Mick?” he asks.
“Fine.” I smile against the phone.
“Jesus,” he mutters. “Do I seriously have to ask?”
“Ask what?”
“Are you in love with him yet? Marta wants to know.”
/>
“Yeah, sure, it’s just Marta who wants to know.”
“Well, I need to know if I should start saving up for a wedding.”
Saving up? Emilio could buy and sell half of New York with the money he has put back from his days playing music. “I don’t think so.”
“Is he standing right there?”
“No, he’s about ten feet from me in the kitchen.”
“He’s being nice to you, right? He treats you like he should?”
Mick comes around the corner carrying a small tub of my favorite ice cream and two spoons. “He does,” I admit.
Mick pops the top on the container and sits back against the couch with his arm touching mine. I suddenly want to get off the phone really bad. “Thanks for setting up the security, Melio,” I say.
“Anything for you, kiddo,” he says. I imagine him pulling the elastic band from his long silver hair so he can adjust his low ponytail, like he always does when he gets sentimental. It’s one of his tells.
“I love you, Melio,” I say.
“I love you too,” he says quietly. “I guess I better go. I got invited to play cards with the Reeds.”
“Did Marta say you could go play cards?”
He laughs. “You know, I might have left my balls in her purse a few times through the years, but she doesn’t care if I go play cards. So, I didn’t even ask.”
“Way to keep hold of your balls,” I say.
Mick gives me a questioning glance. I wave my hand to tell him it’s nothing. Just silliness.
“Besides, someone has to take Henry’s place.”
“Where is Henry?” I ask, suddenly concerned.
“He’s not feeling well.”
“I’ll call and check on him tomorrow.”
“Well, stay safe. And text your old man sometimes, would you? I don’t want to find out where you are from the tabloids.”
“Yes, sir,” I reply. He hangs up without saying anything else. “You heard? He’s sending security to us. They’ll be here tomorrow.”
“Glorified drivers,” Mick says.
“With weapons and kick-ass martial arts skills.”
“I’ll never get another moment alone with you, will I?” he asks, as he hands me a spoon. I stick it into the ice cream and lift it toward my mouth, but just before it gets there, Mick grabs my arm and takes it for himself.
“You ate my ice cream,” I say, pretending to be indignant.
He scoops some up with his own spoon and holds it out to me. I grab his arm so he can’t pull back, and then I eat it. “This is good stuff,” he says as he shovels another spoon of it into his mouth.
“I wouldn’t know,” I say drolly.
“Oh, quit pouting,” he teases as he gives me another bite.
I take the container from him and then crawl across his lap so that I’m sitting with my legs facing the other end. He grabs my hip and pulls me closer. “You always smell so good,” he says as he nuzzles the side of my neck with his nose.
“You do too,” I admit.
“I do?” He lifts his shirt and sniffs it.
“What do you wear?”
“Deodorant,” he says on a laugh. He lifts his arm. “Which I sorely need to use again. I should go shower.”
“Devon was the last one in there, so it might be a mess,” I warn.
“Boys,” he says. Just that one word. It needs no more explanation.
“Do you want kids?” I ask casually.
He rocks his head back and forth like he’s trying to decide. “Maybe.”
I freeze. “What does that mean?”
“It means if the time is right and the woman is right and the finances are right and everything else is right with the world, I probably would.”
I shove his shoulder. “You love kids.” Why would he put so many stipulations on it?
“I do.”
“Where did you learn to do all the things you do with kids?” I ask, knowing I’m prying but hoping he won’t care.
“I had an old girlfriend who had two kids when I met her.” He lifts my legs and sets me off his lap.
“Oh,” I say. “What happened?”
“We broke up.” He goes into the bathroom and closes the door.
Something tells me the woman in question was Nicky. She was probably the love of his life, the woman he’d hoped to spend forever with. And suddenly I can’t taste the ice cream anymore.
Mick
When I get out of the shower, Wren is in our bed with the covers pulled down toward the feet, lying on the sheets. She’s wearing those damn short-shorts that drive me nuts. When she walks, I can see the curve of her butt cheek at the top of the thigh. And I’m pretty sure she’s not wearing a bra. In fact, I’m sure of it because it’s currently hanging on the chair next to the bed.
I pick it up and look at the lace. It’s soft and slick and cold.
“Dude,” she says. “Are you seriously fondling my underwear?”
I look at her over the bra, but I don’t put it down. “Are you wearing underwear?”
Her cheeks get rosy and she bites back a snort, I can tell.
“Are you?” I ask again, my eyes meeting hers. “Ease some of my discomfort and tell me you are. Please.”
“Discomfort?” she says, sitting up and crossing her legs. She plumps a pillow and drops it into the vee. Then she rests her elbows on it, her chin in her hands. “Why does my underwear make you uncomfortable?”
“It’s not your underwear. It’s the fact that your bra is over here while your naked boobs are over there.”
“I’m about to go to sleep,” she explains, her cheeks flushing even more.
“And I’m pretty sure that there’s nothing between you and those little shorts you’re wearing.” I hang her bra back up and cross to sit on the edge of the bed, looking away from her. I take my watch off and lay it on the nightstand, trying to take a minute and dispel the idea of her…here…in my bed.
“Again, I’m going to sleep.”
“Well, so am I, and you’re not making it any easier.”
She lifts her chin from on top of her fists. “I can’t tell if you’re joking with me or not. You’ll have to tell me.”
“I just did.”
“Do you want me to sleep in my jeans? God, Mick, they’re legs. Just legs. They take me from place to place. They hold me up when I might fall down.”
“And yet I have so many other uses for them in my head,” I admit. I turn and smile at her. I’m only half joking. In all honestly, it’s hard seeing her so comfortable.
“What other uses?” she asks cautiously.
“You sure you want the answer to that?”
“You had better tell me something because I’m freaking out a little bit here. What other uses are in your head?”
I grab one of her ankles and lift it so that her leg extends. “Every time I see these ankles, I imagine them on my shoulders. Usually while I fuck you really hard.” I slide my fingers up the back of her calf to tickle the back of her knee. “And when I see these knees, I imagine you on all fours, while I take you from behind.”
She gulps so loudly that I can hear it.
I slide my fingertips up her thigh, stopping to rub across a rough spot where she missed shaving. “And every time I think about your thighs, I imagine them on either side of my head while I lick your pussy.” I rock my head from side to side. “You may or may not come on my face. It changes every time I think about it.”
Her mouth falls open and tiny gasps escape her lips. She wiggles her ass against the sheets. “I didn’t know you thought about such things.”
“It’s all I ever think about, Wren. It seems like I can’t get it off my mind, and then I come out here and here you are, all comfy in pajamas like we’re having a slumber party, when the only party going on around here is in my pants.”
I put her foot back where it was and turn back around.
“I’m going to get some water. Do you want some?”
She
shakes her head, but doesn’t say anything.
I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and gulp it down, trying to catch my breath. I shouldn’t have said any of that. But…God! Might as well be honest. I’ll have to go back in there and—
Her hands lift the back of my shirt, her palms slide around to my front, and she presses her chest against my back.
“You think I don’t think about all those things too? Every time you come to bed, you’re wearing those low-slung pajama bottoms that hang low on your hips. You lift your arms to scratch the top of your head and your T-shirt lifts just a little, and I can see the trail of hair that leads down…” Her fingers slide across the trail and into my waistband, tickling as much as they tug.
And if I wasn’t hard before, I am now. I cover her hands with mine. “You feel it too?”
“Of course, I feel it. Every time I look at you I want to feel you inside me. But I hurt you and I was trying to give you some time to like me again. I wanted you to like me as much as you want me.”
I spin around and hold her face in my hands so she has to look up at me. “I like you just fine.”
She steps up onto her tiptoes. “You like me?”
“Mm-hmm,” I hum, my lips hovering over hers. “I like you more and more every day I spend with you.”
“Despite my lack of underwear?”
I drag a knuckle down the front of her T-shirt and across her nipple. She gasps. Her eyes fall closed. “You can walk around naked, for all I care. But don’t expect me not to be affected by it.” I take her hand and push it down to my dick, which is standing hard between us. She touches it tenderly with the tips of her fingers.
“Is all that for me?” she asks.
“I don’t see anyone else I want to give it to.”
Her hand wraps around my length through my pants and she gives it a squeeze. My head falls back. With her other hand, she pulls my waistband back and pushes her hand inside. And then it’s skin on skin. Her hand is hot and soft, and it’s wrapped tightly around my junk. She gives me a lazy tug. I grab her hand and pull it out of my pants. “We had better stop.”
“Why do we have to stop?” she asks, her lips against mine.
I'm In It (The Reed Brothers Book 18) Page 11