Mick'sology (The Flynn Family Book 2)

by Kayt Miller

  “But…”

  “Shh, I’m in charge here.”

  She scoffs at me, so I quiet her annoyance by moving my hand over her left breast. I pull the thin fabric down just enough for me to see her nipple. It’s perfect. The rose colored areola is the perfect half dollar size, and her nipple is hard and wanting.

  I lean down and swipe my tongue over the hard little nub, and my girl moans like a porn star. Jesus, she’s sexy as hell.

  As I move to take the nipple into my mouth, she asks, “Mick? What if Sophie or your brother comes home? What if Katie wakes up?”

  I look up at her. “They’ll come through the kitchen. We’ll have time to regroup.” Now she’s distracted. “Roni? Take the bra off.”

  “Oh, okay.” She reaches back and unclips her bra and slides it off and drops it on the floor.

  “Holy… sweet Jesus. I never…” In my whole life, I’ve never seen breasts that beautiful. They’re big. More than a handful, for sure. But the amazing thing is the shape. They’re like teardrops with the nipples pointing up at me. It’s like they’re calling to me.

  “Veronica, you are without a doubt, the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen.”

  “Oh, you’re just saying that because you like my boobs, Mick,” she laughs.

  “I’m not just saying that, Roni. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  She reaches out and strokes my cock. “You’re beautiful too, Mick. I can’t believe you’re even real.”

  I know I should pull her hand away again, but I don’t want to. “Can’t you feel how real this is? I’m going to burst if you don't stop, little one.”

  Chapter 22: Roni

  Little one? “Little one?”

  “You are little. I’m twice your size.”

  I ignore his words and wrap my free arm around his neck to encourage a kiss. “Time to stop talking.” He pulls my ponytail back again, and I moan in his mouth.

  “You like that, babe? You like getting your hair pulled?”

  I’ve never thought about it before. I haven’t had enough sex to know one way or another. All I know is I like it when Mick does it. “I like it when you do it,” I say huskily.

  “Fuck, Roni.” He attacks my mouth with a passion I’ve never experienced before. His hands are everywhere. But, when he slides his hand down into my leggings I freeze. “Is this okay, Veronica?”

  “Yeah, it’s just been a while since someone had their hands on me. I don’t want to stop, though.”

  His hand moves further down underneath the elastic of my panties as he whispers in my ear, “Are you as turned on as I am, Roni? Are you wet, baby?” His hand slides further down. He cups my mound and slides one long finger through my heat. “You’re fucking drenched, Roni. I love that,” he says in my ear right before he bites my earlobe.

  I moan again. Everything this guy does turns me on. He removes his hand and slides his body between my legs. He pulls my hands above my head again while I’m beneath him. His cock is centered perfectly over me, and I want more. I want all of him. I shift my pelvis upward to let him know.

  He leans down and kisses me with so much lust and passion it makes me breathless. I slide my tongue over his bottom lip to urge him on. He shifts his hard length upward to meet my thrusts. We’re both still completely clothed, well, he is. I’m topless, but it still feels amazing. I pull my hand free from his grip and slide it down to his shaft. I want him––I use my hand to slide it up and down his cock on the outside of his pants. Damn, the guy feels huge. As I’m about to slide my hand inside when the baby monitor squeaks to life with the cries of little Katie.

  “Fuck!” Mick exclaims. We’re both breathing heavily. His eyes are pinched shut, and mine are wide open. When he opens his eyes, we smile at each other. “Let me go see what she needs,” Mick whispers. I hear his footsteps as he jogs upstairs.

  “Okay.” Shit, I’m buzzing. I wanted to come, and I know he did too.

  “Roni?” Mick yells from upstairs. “Can you come here?”

  I head upstairs and see Mick in the hallway holding Katie, “She’s hot. I think she’s got a fever.”

  “Okay. Is she teething?”

  “I don’t know.” He looks worried.

  “Do you know if they have a thermometer around somewhere?”

  “Try the bathroom cupboard,” he uses his head nod to point me in the right direction.

  I run into the bathroom and see a cloth basket filled with baby medical supplies. There’s a thermometer that I’m sure is rectal. I grab the basket and head back into Katie’s bedroom. “I found a rectal thermometer. We’ll need to take her diaper off so we can…”

  “Rectal thermometer? Won’t that hurt her?”

  “No. It won’t be comfortable, but it’s the most accurate way to take her temp.”

  “Are you sure?” he’s hugging Katie closer to his chest like I’m going to steal her away and hurt her.

  “I’m pretty sure, Mick.” I’m sure.

  “Let’s see if I can get ahold of Hank or Sophie.” He hands me the baby as he pulls his phone from his back pocket.

  When Sophie’s phone goes to voicemail, he leaves a quick message for her to call him when she has a chance. “I don’t want to freak her out,” he explains. Next, he tries Hank whose does the same. “Damn it.” He says pacing the bedroom.

  “Mick, it’s going to be…”

  “No. Let me call my sister. She’s a med student. She’ll know.”

  I roll my eyes and look at the baby. She’s flushed and warm to the touch. We need to know what her temperature is before we decide what to do.

  “Em? It’s me, Mick.” He pauses listening to Emily. “I know, shut up. Listen. I think Katie has a fever. No, we haven’t taken her temp yet. What? Me and Roni… No, she’s a girl. Roni is short for Veronica.” He starts pacing again. He lets out a frustrated sigh, “Can we talk about this later? We need advice. We have a thermometer, but it’s rectal, and I thought… what? Seriously? God, I can’t do it, Em.” He turns to me, “Will you do it? Will you take her temp, rect…you know?” he adds hesitantly.

  I nod my head.

  “She said she’d do it. Okay bye.” He starts to hang up when he hears her yelling on the phone. I can hear it from here.

  “What?” he asks impatiently.

  “103 degrees?” He turns back to me and states, “We want it below 103 degrees, Roni.”

  I nod again as I set the baby on her changing table. I unfasten her onesie then her diaper. She’s warm. I hope she’s not over 103 degrees. I turn her, so she’s on her side facing away from me. I pull the thermometer from the case and wipe it clean with a baby wipe then turn on the power button. I look at Mick and ask, “Will you put your hand here, Mick?” With one of his big hands on her tiny shoulder, I slide the wand into her bottom. She wiggles around and whimpers. I’m sure it’s uncomfortable. I wait until I hear it beep and I slowly pull it out.

  “It’s 101.7. That’s high but not in the danger range. I think we should…”

  I don’t get the words out before Mick is on his phone again, “Em? It’s me, Mick.”

  I giggle when I hear him say ‘It’s me, Mick.' God, he’s so cute when he’s worried. But, he doesn’t see it that way. He thinks I’m laughing at him, so I get a very dirty look from him.

  “It’s 101.7. Yeah, okay.” He takes a deep breath, “Alright, we’ll do that.” He hangs up the phone and turns to me.

  I hold my free hand up to stop him, “Before you speak, can I tell you what I think Emily recommended?” I need to show him that I’m not completely incompetent right now.

  “Okay.”

  “I think we should get her a bottle. We need to keep her hydrated.”

  He nods.

  “We can give her a dose of her acetaminophen that they have here.” I hold up the bottle.

  He nods again.

  “And we can give her a bath in tepid water.”

  He nods a third time. “How did you know all
of that?”

  “I have three nieces, but I used to babysit a lot of the neighborhood kids when I was in middle school and high school. It’s how I made my spending money.”

  He walks over to me and runs his thumb across my cheek, “I’m sorry. I panicked. It’s not that I didn’t trust you. I didn’t trust myself. I was scared.”

  I set Katie in her crib and turn to hug Mick. “You’re such a good guy, Mick. It’s okay to be scared, and you did the right thing calling your sister, the doctor.”

  “Future doctor.”

  “Okay. Future doctor.”

  “Why don’t I get the bath ready while you get a bottle. We can both do the medicine. Sound right?”

  He leans down and kisses my lips softly, “Yeah. Thanks, Roni. If you hadn’t been here, I’d have run screaming into the streets,” he says chuckling.

  “I doubt that. You would have done what you did tonight––called for help.”

  By the time Katie is tucked back into bed, it’s after ten. “I’d better get going. Big day tomorrow.” Not. Mick doesn’t know about my job situation, but I do need to get started with a job hunt. Might as well start tomorrow.

  “Sophie should be home by ten-thirty. Wait here, and I’ll drive you home.”

  “No, that’s okay. She’ll want to get updated on Katie’s fever.”

  “But, I wanted you to meet her.”

  “And I will. On Saturday. At the Halloween party,” I smile up at him.

  “Oh, yeah. Okay. That’s true.”

  He walks me to the front door and kisses my forehead. “See you on Saturday.”

  “Yep. See you on Saturday.”

  Isn’t he going to call me or text me before then? Shit, let the crazy irrational thoughts begin. I’m not that experienced with guys or relationships. The little knowledge I do have was stressful and full of heartache. I’m not sure I can handle this. What are we doing? Are we a couple now? No. Not a couple. I’m sure he won’t give tonight a second thought. We were just fooling around. Nothing serious. Friends with benefits. That’s all we are.

  Chapter 23: Mick

  As I watch Roni leave, my phone rings, “Hello?”

  “Hey, Mick. It’s Sophie. Did you call?”

  “Yeah, Katie woke up fussy. She had a fever.” I explain what happened and what we did to bring the temperature down. “She’s asleep now, and the fever is down. I talked to Emily and Roni helped out a lot. So, no need to worry.”

  “She’s teething already,” Sophie explains. “It seems early, but the pediatrician said it happens. I should have told you about that. It makes her fussy and can cause a slight fever. I’m sorry I didn't warn you.”

  “Don’t worry. She’s fine, I’m fine; we’re all fine.”

  Sophie lets out a relieved laugh, “I’m glad. I’ll be home in about fifteen minutes. I left the library as soon as I saw the missed call.”

  “Sounds good. See you then.”

  Not fifteen minutes later, the back door is thrown up with a bang, “Sophie called, said Katie was sick. Where is she? Is she okay?”

  “Hank, calm down. She’s fine. Sophie says she’s teething. Emily and Roni both helped me out so she’s sleeping and her temp is down.”

  “Thank God. Jesus, man. Next time just leave me a message. I left right in the middle of my prelim on a John Doe to get here.”

  “Sorry, Hank. I was a little freaked too.”

  Hank slaps my back, hard. “Ouch, dude. That hurt.”

  He chuckles. As the oldest in the family, he was always the strongest and most domineering sibling. That hasn’t changed, although, I could take him in a fight. “I’m out. I’ve got shit to do for the party on Saturday, and I’ve got to work every day this week, a couple doubles.”

  “Sorry to hear that, Mick. Thanks for watching my baby girl.”

  We do that one arm man-hug thing and turn. Before I’m out the door I ask, “Hey, you gonna be a daddy again?”

  Hank smirks and then winks at me. He’s not going to say it out loud, but I guess it’s a done deal. “Congrats, man,” I say smiling. “I’m happy for you.”

  “And Mick? Don’t say a damn word to anyone. Not even Emily. We want to wait to make sure the baby is out of the woods. Got it?” he says seriously.

  “Got it. My lips are sealed.”

  Chapter 24: Roni

  I slept late again today. I always like to sleep in on Saturdays, but I’ve been sleeping in all week. Actually, each day I’ve progressively slept longer. So, today, I woke up at eleven. Pathetic. I’ve got to get a life.

  Something that is not helping? The four days since I’ve heard from Mick. The absence of any text messages makes me wonder if I should even go to his party tonight. Maybe he regrets the night babysitting Katie. He regrets messing around on the living room floor.

  Not me. I don’t regret it. I didn’t anyway. Mick is hot and sexy, and he knows what he’s doing. I can only imagine what sex with him would be like. He made me feel like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. I got a taste of his dirty talk too. And, oh, God…the hair pulling. Just thinking about it turns me on. That guy is sex on a damn stick.

  It doesn’t help that I had absolutely nothing to do this week except apply for jobs. I’ve sent out nine resumes and updated my LinkedIn account––twice. Maybe someone will see it, hire me without even talking to me, and pay me a gazillion dollars to work for them. I snort out a laugh. Unless I’m willing to move, it’s going to take me a while to find a job like the one I just left at P&P Advertising.

  Okay, I know I want to go to the party. I need to know if what happened to us on Monday was a one-off, a fluke, or if it was the start of something. I drag out the plastic bin in my closet and pull off the lid. “I know it’s in here somewhere,” I say to myself.

  I dig through the old clothes from my college alma mater reminiscing about the good ole days. College was so much fun. I loved my roommates and the friends I made. I should actually catch up with them. I pull out my big sweatshirt and hug it to my chest. I slip it over my pajama top and continue my search. I dig to the bottom, and there it is, “Ah ha! Found it!” It’s my costume from a Halloween party we all went to senior year.

  Having a theater major as a roommate and best friend certainly had its perks. She was able to score me this outfit from the costume closet at school. I’m pretty sure I was supposed to return it, but it fit me so well; at least it did at the time. Let’s hope I can still squeeze into the thing.

  I lay the costume on the bed and as I’m walking back to the tub to dig out the rest of the outfit, my phone dings. I pick it up, and I feel flutters in my stomach.

  Mick: Roni? You around?”

  I know I should wait a few minutes to reply, so it doesn't’ appear that I was just doing nothing but…

  Me: Yep. What’s up?”

  That sounded cool, right?

  Mick: Just pulling my hair out trying to get the party ready.

  Me: Been busy?

  Mick: Fuck, yeah. Worked three doubles this week.

  Me: Sorry to hear that. Are you still having the party?

  Mick: Of course. It’s a tradition!

  I wait for more from him.

  Mick: I need help. Can you come early?

  Me: I think so.

  Of course, I can.

  Me: What time?

  I know the party starts at eight.

  Mick: 6:00 or 6:30?

  Me: Sure. Should I bring anything?

  Mick: Nothing but your superior party-planning skeeeels.

  Me: LOL. Okay. I’ll see you.

  Me: Oh… what’s the address?

  Mick sends me his address. It’s not far from here in North Park. Now it makes sense that he has the gym membership in that neighborhood.

  I look around my room. It’s two o’clock, and I’ve got a ton of stuff to do before the party. “Time to get busy.” I murmur to myself.

  At precisely 6:10 p.m., I step out of the Uber in front of a non-descript brick bu
ilding located in an industrial neighborhood in North Park. “Is this the right address?” I mutter to myself. I double-check my phone and then look at the number on the building. “Yep. It’s right.” I look up and see lights coming from the two front windows on the second floor.

  I walk to the side of the building and see a long set of metal steps that lead up to a door. I’m going to take a guess and assume that’s where I need to go. “God, I sure as heck hope he lives here. If not, I could be knocking on the door of a serial killer.” I snort at my nervous jabber. At least I hope it’s a joke.

  I start up the steps and look to my right. On the brick wall is a sign that I can just make out, “Flynn Construction.” Mick’s last name is Flynn. I’m in the right place. I make it to the top and take a second to catch my breath. “Jeez, I need to work out.” At six fifteen, I knock on his door. Yeah, I know. I timed it so I wouldn’t be too early or too late.

  When I hear nothing, I knock again and hear, “Coming.”

  I busy myself by looking in my little-cinched purse for a mint or something until the industrial-size door squeaks open. I lift my head and see the most breathtaking sight ever. In the world. No! In the universe! Mick Flynn in a kilt. And nothing else. “Sweet baby Jesus,” I murmur under my breath and then giggle. I don’t know why my first reaction was to giggle, but it’s better than exclaiming, Holy shit, Mick. You’re a God! So, I went with the giggle.

  My eyes start at his leather flip flop clad feet then up to his lean legs to a glimpse of a muscular thigh. The kilt starts just above his knees. I’ve never considered knees to be particularly sexy, but Mick has changed my mind about that.

  My eyes take in the fabric of the kilt. It’s plaid, of course, in browns, oranges, and white. My eyes follow the kilt up to his, um, to his man bits region. There’s a little leather pouch that hangs loosely from his hips with a string. I’ve seen those in movies. I don’t know what they’re called, but his pouch looks authentic. Even the kilt looks real––not a cheesy costume.