by Fields, MJ
I can’t tell her how disgusting that seems to me.
“Awesome,” I say with a thumbs-up.
She gets pulled forward, and then the pole flies out of her hand. Gage catches her before she falls into the lake.
“You good?” he asks.
“My pole!” she yells, pointing toward the water.
“Plenty more—”
“That’s my favorite,” she says.
He sighs and reaches behind his back, pulling his shirt over his head as he kicks his sandals off.
Ugly feet. I want to see ugly feet.
When he jumps in after her pole, she is pointing and telling him, “Left, it’s left.”
“I got it, Mags,” he says.
I walk closer to see him swim toward it and grab it just as the end of the handle starts to sink.
“Fish still on it?” she yells.
He doesn’t answer as he swims toward the dock and hands it up before his hands hit the dock and he pushes himself out of the water.
The sun is setting behind him, showcasing his rippling and popping muscles. Then he hops up on the dock and runs his hands over his wet hair.
A man his size hopping around like he’s nothing...sexy.
God, I need help.
“Still on?” he asks, rubbing his hands over his body, wiping off the excess water.
“Sure is, my boy, sure is.”
Mags’ happy laughter snaps me out of me wanting to tell him to just take me now. Sort of.
I look at his feet and inwardly curse him and his Maker. They are perfect, too.
Why? Why? Why?
How is this fair?
It’s not.
I look up his body slowly, taking in every inch of him. When I get to the ink on his chest, I look at it closer than ever before, wanting to know what it all means to him. All of it.
I want to outline it with my fingers as I ask him to tell me his secrets. I want to trace it with my tongue as he tells me every one of them. I want his breath to catch when I lick across his sexy man nipples. I want to hear him growl when I bite down on them.
I want him.
I look up to find him watching me.
I want to look away, but when he licks his lips slowly, I look down to see what he’s looking at and realize my nipples are peaked, pointing at him like arrows of arousal.
I cross my arms over my chest, and he shakes his head slowly as he looks up at me while reaching down to adjust himself.
Dead. I’m fucking dead.
“Gage, my boy,” Mags says through her laughter. “He’s a biggen. Do you think he’ll be good eating?”
He looks down at my lower half, and my body clenches. “Damn sure it’s gonna be.” His nostrils flare when he looks up at me again.
When he turns around, I let out the breath I was holding. Then I take a deep breath, hoping to fill my lungs with something other than him.
It doesn’t work.
“I’m gonna head up and use the bathroom, Mags. You need anything?”
“Nope, but use Gage’s; it’s much closer.”
“No, it’s fine. I can just—”
“Don’t be a pain in the ass, Phoenix. My place is right there.” He looks back and points. “Use the door under the deck. There’s a bathroom to your left.”
I feel a need to argue, until I see Mags looking at me, then him and back at me.
“Okay,” I say as I turn around.
When I walk in through the backdoor, I am in what I assume is his man cave. There’s a bar, a pool table, and even a racing car arcade game. Three walls house televisions that are the biggest I have ever seen. There are huge, overstuffed theatre seating, and the wall around the French doors are covered with poster-sized black and white pictures of Gage and a boy.
“His son,” I say out loud as I step closer and touch his sweet, little cheeks.
“Brandon,” he says from behind me, causing me to jump. “We call him Brand.”
“For someone the size of freaking Shrek, you sure can go all ninja, Gage Fal—”
He grips the back of my neck and pulls me harshly toward him, causing our bodies to collide. With his other hand, he grips my ass and picks my up. I grab his shoulders as he lifts me farther up until we are eye to eye.
“You need to stop playing around and fucking lying to yourself about this,” he growls a demand.
Growls.
“This?” I gasp.
He moves across the room quickly and sits on a barstool, pulling me down on his lap. Now I’m straddling him as he grips my hips and moves me back and forth against his covered erection.
“Gage, I can’t.”
“I wouldn’t fuck you right now if you begged me. But I’ll be fucking dammed if I’m gonna look at a girl who’s looking at me like I’m un-fucking-touchable or unable to do more for her than use her body as a cum dumpster.”
“Oh, God,” I whimper as he rocks my hips against him.
“I won’t fuck you, Phoenix, because when I do, I’ll tear you open more than physically.” He groans, “Fuck.”
“You, you, you...” I try to pull away, feeling like I may...
“You fucking sit there and enjoy the ride. When you come, you come because you wanted to and you wanted me to be the one to help you make it happen. You come because you need to fucking come worse than I do. You come knowing you own your desire and your release. You come because I fucking say so. You fucking come, dammit.”
“Oh, Jesus,” I cry as he thrusts and drags my hips up and down him.
I feel every part of my body tense. I have never felt anything like this, not ever.
I look up at him, seeing his teeth are clenched and he looks so angry. I lean forward to kiss him, but he leans back.
“I wanna watch you take what you are so fucking afraid to take. I wanna watch you fall the fuck apart because you want it so goddamned bad.”
“Kiss me,” I beg in a voice I don’t even recognize.
“Take it, dammit,” he growls.
“I can’t,” I mewl, trying to push myself away, when he grinds harder.
“Fucking take it,” he growls again.
The heat, the tension, it’s too much. Too damn much while I sit on him, look at him, feel his body’s heat against mine.
One hand releases my hip and grips the back of my neck, pulling it against his shoulder. I hear his groans and grunts as he fucks me through our clothes.
I reach up and grab his hair hard, and he hisses when I start moving my body against his, rocking, grinding, feeling, taking.
“Oh, shit.”
“Take it,” he demands.
“Oh, God.”
“Take it,” he groans.
“Oh, yes. Oh, God yes. O, oh, oh...” I bite down hard on his shoulder while I cry out as my orgasm ripples through my body from my head to my toes. Then I throw my head back as my orgasm peaks and cry out his name.
“Fuck yes. Fuuuuck,” he hisses. “Yes.”
He slows the pace as I lay my head on his shoulder, panting.
He rubs his hand up then down my back, gripping my ass and squeezing tight.
“You good?” he whispers.
“Uh-huh,” I say, still lying limp against his heat.
“You gotta get up, squirt. Use the bathroom. Do what you need to do.”
When I don’t move, he sighs.
“Phoenix, Mags is gonna wonder what the hell is going on,” he whispers a chuckle.
I sigh then slide off his lap, unable to look up at him.
I start to turn away when he grabs my hip and stops me as he stands. He turns me, and I am looking down at his huge erection. I look up at his chest.
He grips my chin and raises my head. “That was all you. You wanted it. You took it.”
I nod, looking into his eyes.
“You feel like I used you for a damn thing?”
I shake my head no.
“Feel like you used me to get off?” he asks.
“No, of course not,�
� I gasp.
“Fucking can just be fucking. Just like what just went down.”
I scowl at him.
“We can keep doing this shit, Phoenix. You get off on my cock; I go pump one off. Or we can do it at the same damn time, together.”
I don’t know what to say.
“Mutual exchange of releases. Respect. Nothing wrong with it.”
“Until you fall in love with me,” I say, immediately regretting it.
He laughs. “That’s not gonna happen.”
“Yeah, how silly to think it could,” I play it off as a joke.
“You despise men. I don’t feel much better about women. Not worried either of us want more than to just feel each other instead of getting off to the thought.”
I nod once, hoping he will stop this conversation.
“Good. Now you think long and hard about this. You can ride my fucking lap anytime you want regardless. Watching you come was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
When I walk out to the dock, Mags is filleting her fish.
“I’d offer to help...” I start with a shrug.
She grins. “Not your thing, huh?”
“No, not at all.”
“We each bring something different to the table,” she says.
I laugh. “I brought napkins.”
“You also brought company, conversation...” She stops and looks over my shoulder. “A smile to that man’s face.”
“What?” I ask.
“My boy likes you,” she whispers.
“No. Oh, no, it’s not like that.” I force a laugh that comes out louder than expected.
“Not like what?” he asks.
I feel my face burning while Mags smiles.
“I was just asking her if she wanted to help slice up this fish. She says she doesn’t like them.”
“Oh?” he asks, looking as completely confused as I am by what she just said.
“Exactly.” Mags chuckles.
He looks at me and raises an eyebrow, then walks toward Mags. “I’ll finish that up.”
I notice he’s changed his shorts, of course his ass looks even better in these ones than the last.
I look away quickly, hoping to not get caught gawking, towards Mags. Then walk to the picnic table.
Mags and I unpack her picnic basket and set its contents on the picnic table.
I smile at the spread before us. From the red gingham tablecloth, to tiny salt and pepper shakers, to the cucumber salad, potato salad, and an apple pie.
“What is it, honey girl?”
“It’s perfect. Like right out of a magazine.”
“It’s nothing fancy. But life can feel that way here.” She pulls out a mason jar filled with clear fluids.
“Mind if I have a drink?” I ask, pointing at the jar.
She chuckles. “Drink up.”
I dump some into my glass and take a drink.
As soon as it hits my mouth, I turn my head away from the table and spit it out.
“Oh, my God, Mags,” I say, slapping my tongue. “Did you mistakenly put rubbing alcohol in that jar?”
Gage laughs out loud from his belly, and Mags joins him.
“What is that?”
“Mags, you bring the moonshine down?” Gage opens up the cooler and grabs a beer out of it, handing it to me.
“I bring the shine to every picnic,” she says.
“Phoenix know this?” He laughs as I chug the beer, which also tastes like shit.
Mags smirks. “She does now.”
“Give me another,” I demand when the first beer is gone and my mouth still tastes like how turpentine smells.
“Right here, right now?” he whispers.
“Beer,” I plead.
Chapter Seven
Strip It Down...
Gage
I grab her a beer and open it up. She finishes it as quickly as she does the first.
“Damn, squirt.” I chuckle.
“Is the taste ever going to leave my mouth?” she whines.
With Mags watching us with that hawk eye of hers, I have to bite my lip to stop from telling her I have the magic solution under my zipper.
I crack another beer and hand it to her.
“I’m gonna be so white girl wasted,” she says, taking it and pouring it down her throat.
“Gage, the fish,” Mags says, pulling my attention from how Phoenix can swallow so damn quickly and trying to figure out the recovery period between swallows because I’m going to flood that sexy, little mouth.
I get to the fire and pull off the foil with the fish inside. Then I drop it on the table and open the packet. “Perfect.”
I look back to see Phoenix is now sitting on the picnic table bench, holding her stomach. Mags is beside her, rubbing her back.
“Thought you’d know that was something special in that mason jar.”
“Special?” she says, scrunching up her nose.
“That’s the best moonshine on the entire east coast. Triple filtered,” I tell her the same shit Mags told me the first time I got into her stash.
She nods. “Sure is.”
“I’m sorry, Mags, but I’m not buying into that bull,” Phoenix says, her head hanging low.
“You drink much?” I ask. Three beers and a couple shots of moonshine would be enough to make me fly for a good couple hours.
“No,” she grumbles.
“What did you eat today, honey girl?” Mags asks, pulling her head to her hip.
“Coffee, beer, and that...poison.”
“Yeah, you need to eat something, squirt,” I say, grabbing a fork full of fish. “Here.”
“I can’t eat that.” She sighs. “I saw it die.”
“Exactly why you should eat it—died for us to eat. Now open up.” I squat down in front of her, and she looks up at me through her long-ass lashes. “Open up, Phoenix.”
She opens her mouth, and I put the fork in it.
Her eyes widen. She looks pleasantly surprised.
“Good, isn’t it?” Mags asks.
“Mmm...” She nods as she chews.
“More?” I ask, standing up.
An hour later, she has her arms crossed on the table with her head down.
Mags shakes her head. “She’s out.”
“Should have warned her.” I laugh softly as I stand to pack up the picnic basket.
“Who would have known she didn’t know what mason jars hold?” She shakes her head.
“She does now.” I grab the basket. “You chill here. I’m gonna go get the Ranger to take you ladies up.”
“I’m gonna walk,” she says, standing.
“Mags, I gotta get her up there. Just hold up, will you?” I hurry up to the barn, knowing Mags’ stubborn ass will be trucking up the laneway if I don’t get down there. As much as I would like to be alone with a drunk Phoenix, that’s not a good damn idea after watching her come just over an hour ago.
I pull down the road, kicking up dirt behind me, and see Mags with Phoenix leaning against her.
Christ, that woman makes me scold my dick more than I had to in high school. Wonder if that shit will change once I’ve had her.
“You ready to ride?” I can’t help winking at Phoenix, who shakes her head and climbs in the back.
Mags climbs in behind her. “All right, take it easy, my boy.”
Once at the cabins, I throw it in park and look back to see Mags looking at Phoenix and get a little fucking emotional seeing the care in her eyes as she pushes her hair back from her face.
Mags has been a part of my life since I was a baby, then when we moved back to the States. I have watched her watch us, me and my brothers, with her eagle eye, and nothing but love in those sweet gray things. As I grew older, I learned about who Mags was—her past—and now respect her even more for who she is.
She’s a caretaker. She’s a mother to all who will allow it. She is love, and she is wisdom. She is now and forever family.
She looks up at me and
winks.
Phoenix is a shade of green that isn’t all that fucking attractive on most, but because she’s goddammed beautiful, it works for me.
“Ready, honey girl?”
“No, just wanna sit,” she says quietly.
“Let’s sit you on the porch,” I say, climbing out.
“Just give me a few—”
She stops when I swoop her up and carry her little ass up the stairs.
“Easy,” she groans.
“Don’t do easy,” I tell her as I walk over to the glider and set her down. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“No, you don’t have to,” she says from behind me.
“Mags, I’ll get that.” I take the picnic basket from her and motion before me. “Ladies first.”
“Such a gentleman.” She smiles. “But I should stay up with our girl.”
“I got her,” I tell her, and she looks up at me with raised brows. “It’s nothing like that.”
She smirks. “Sure it’s not.”
“Can’t have our tenant getting lost up here. Wouldn’t be good for business,” I tell her as I look at Phoenix, who’s standing up and walking toward the stairs.
“Whatever you say.” She laughs.
Once Mags is inside with her basket, I hurry over to Phoenix, who’s now walking toward the dirt road.
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask on a laugh once I get to her.
“Walking off the buzz,” she says, holding her belly.
“You got it wrong, squirt; you’re supposed to sleep it off.” I grab her as she stumbles over a rock.
“I know better. I’ve been drunk before,” she says, slowly pulling her elbow away, then repeats, “I’ve been drunk before.”
“Not sure I believe that if three beers and a few shots of moonshine got you all sorts of fucked up.”
“Few shots?” she huffs. “I drank that like it was water.”
“You also spit out a shit ton,” I remind her.
“Clearly not enough,” she says, slowing down.
“You should go back, chill, relax, and sleep,” I tell her.
“Just wanna walk it off,” she says, nearly falling again.
I grab her hand and pull her back to steady.
“Thanks,” she says, looking down at our hands.
“I’m gonna insist on holding this so you don’t fall. Might not be quick enough next time.”