No games, no bullshit.
“Yes. That bothered him. I made the down payment, paid the closing costs and all the mortgage payments. All he had to do was show up to the damn closing and sign his damn name.”
“Because you were married by then and a wife can’t do shit without her husband.” That had to piss her off and really make her regret saying I do.
“Yes. I should’ve drawn up a prenup. I didn’t. It didn’t even cross my mind before we got married. We didn’t own shit at the time. We were renting and we both had school loans...”
“And by the time you got this house, you were makin’ more than him.” He kept talking to keep her talking. It was like dangling the apple in front of the donkey... Wait. The carrot in front of the turtle...
Whatever.
“Yes.”
“Your career was blowin’ up.” Fuck yeah, because she was a badass. This woman could probably do anything she put her mind to. And, while it was kind of weird, it made him hard as fuck.
“Yes, in a good way. I thought we wanted the same things. We talked about it long before we were married. And not just in passing, but in deep conversations about what we wanted out of life and what we saw for our future. Our careers would come first before beginning a family.”
“Turned out he wanted kids and you didn’t.” That didn’t surprise him with her. She seemed driven to be successful. Conquer the world first, then think about settling down later.
“I wanted kids but not right away. He was on board with waiting. Or so I thought. I guess he lied.”
Fuck. “Jealous of your success.”
“Intimidated, more like it. For whatever reason. His mother had always been a housewife and his father,” she deepened her voice to sound like a man’s, “brought home the bacon. That old misogynistic bullshit. So, maybe what he thought he wanted, once he had it, he didn’t. He realized he was wrong. He actually wanted what he grew up with. He wanted to be the man of the house. The provider. He wanted for me to rely on him. It’s all bullshit. I never wanted that and was clear about it from the very beginning.”
Okay, he was beginning to worry that this discussion was getting her tense again. Maybe he should bail on this whole line of conversation.
He jumped up, grabbed her abandoned wine glass and gave it to her. She took a couple sips, then blew out a long breath.
“So, the asshole realized he couldn’t handle bein’ with a woman who kicked ass and he left.” Before Deacon bailed from this story and worked on getting her loosened up again—preferably, with his dick inside her—he was curious about who left who.
“No.”
“You kicked his ass out.” He fought his grin at her doing so.
“Of course.”
He shook his head. Of course? Would he have to draw the reason out of her? For fuck’s sake.
“Because I came home to find him fucking one of his students in my bed, in my house. I got the perfect view of her on her hands and knees as he was pumping into her. I surprised him mid-stroke.”
Oh fuck! “Don’t they frown upon a teacher doin’ one of his students?”
“You’d think so. But wait! There’s more!”
Did he fall into some infomercial?
“Guess what?”
Apparently, he wasn’t supposed to guess when she yelled, “He was breeding her like the dog he is because I found out afterward she was pregnant! PREG-NANT!”
Justice jumped up from where he had been crashed on the deck and ran to the railing, with his ears perked, his tail up and his head on a swivel, searching for a threat. Jussie yawned after a few seconds when he realized it was a false alarm.
“And you know what?” she shouted, now all worked up. “That motherfucker wanted my house for his side piece to play housewife in and raise his fucking child! My fucking house!” The last part came out in a snarl.
Deacon was beginning to believe maybe having this type of conversation after a long day at work wasn’t the best idea for Reese. Even with wine and weed.
But he needed the rest of the story. “Is he still in Mansfield?”
“Of course. His sweet young thing dropped out of college to avoid any issues with him being a member of the faculty and impregnating a not even twenty-one-year-old student.”
Damn. He could practically hear her teeth snapping like a pissed-off honey badger.
“You see him?”
“Him. Her. Their spawn. This town isn’t big enough to avoid them.”
“And you haven’t stun gunned his ass?”
“What’s the point? His current situation isn’t as happy as he’d like me to believe. He stepped in shit and now realizes it was cement. He’s unable to scrape it off easily, to fix his mistake. I take satisfaction with how miserable he looks.”
She smiled. It wasn’t a nice, sweet smile. It was one that, if directed at him, would make his balls retreat into his body.
“He’s now supporting two children. His child bride and his spawn. On his income.” She laughed. “I shouldn’t laugh, but for me? It’s karma.”
“You still love him?”
Once that question escaped, he wasn’t so sure he wanted the answer.
Chapter Eleven
Do you still love him?
Why would Deacon ask that? Why would he even care? Unless he was wondering if she was foolish enough to still love a man who screwed her over and then tried to steal her house from under her in the divorce. Not only that, he was having unprotected sex with someone else while he was having unprotected sex with Reese.
She downed the remaining wine and stared at the glass with a little bit of regret.
No, she didn’t love him anymore, but like her empty wine glass, she regretted falling for someone who wasn’t who she thought. Who lied to her about what he wanted for his future. Who lied to her about loving her. Because if he had, why would he go elsewhere? And, worse, try to steal what was hers?
Yes, maybe she’d been foolish enough to believe his lies, but not enough to still love him. She didn’t even like him anymore.
“Reese.”
Deacon saying her name softly pulled her out of her thoughts.
“I did until the very moment I walked in on him with her. Then everything inside me died, including my love for him. I’ve experienced betrayal before but not like that. He had told me he loved me before walking out the door to go to work. After having sex that morning, mind you. That same damn morning.”
Deacon shifted in the lounge chair and rose to his feet, only wearing those damn boxer briefs. She had come home tonight to find a glass of wine, him and a condom waiting.
It was more romantic than anything Allen had done in those last couple of years. She should’ve known he was cheating. She should’ve picked up on the signs. But she’d been so focused on her career, instead.
Maybe it was her fault he cheated. Maybe she hadn’t given him what he needed, which was her time and attention.
Something unfamiliar burned her eyes.
Tears? Couldn’t be.
She hadn’t even cried when she caught her husband in bed with another woman.
Not when she realized he no longer wanted the same things as her.
Not when she found out another woman was carrying her husband’s baby.
Not even when he tried to take half of her house.
Hell no. She had gotten angry.
She wasn’t going to wallow in self-pity. She had regrouped, spanked him in the divorce and got right back on her life’s path before the ink was even dry on the divorce papers.
But in all that time, she never considered her failed marriage might have been because of her. Not once. Until now.
She stared up at Deacon as he came to stand in front of her. “Maybe it was my fault. Maybe I drove him away.”
“He tell you that?”
“After I caught him, he said he didn’t want to wait to start a family. And he decided he wanted something different for his life than what he originally wanted.�
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“Then it wasn’t your fault.”
“But I didn’t even try to compromise. The person who gets paid to mediate didn’t even try.”
“Would you’ve changed your path for him?”
She tilted her head and thought about it. “I had a goal and I was working toward that. So, no, I wouldn’t have, even before finding out he was cheating.”
“He changed. You didn’t. You knew what you wanted. He didn’t. He just decided he wasn’t gonna tell you things changed. That’s a dick move.” Deacon held out his hand to her.
She stared at it for a couple seconds, then put hers in his. He engulfed his large hand around hers and pulled her to her feet until they were eye to eye. Almost. He was taller than her without her heels on.
“Know what I say?” he murmured, dragging his thumb over her bottom lip.
“What?” she asked softly.
“Fuck that asshole. He fucked up a good thing. Know what else?” He dropped his head a little lower so the warmth of his breath kissed her lips when he talked.
“What?”
“If I ever see him, I’m gonna thank him.”
“For what?”
“For being a stupid ass and lettin’ you go. ‘Cause if he hadn’t, I wouldn’t be gettin’ ready to fuck you on your livin’ room floor.”
“On the floor? Why on the floor?” What was wrong with the lounge chair? Having sex with him in the house would feel like they were taking a step toward...
Toward she didn’t know what and wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.
“Gonna show you why,” he growled, which made her nipples instantly harden and her pussy pulse.
“I’m not sure—”
He swallowed her complaint when he crushed his mouth to hers, shoving his fingers into her hair and tilting her face up even higher. The seal tightened between their lips and he swept his tongue along hers.
How did he get to be such a great kisser? Since when did merely a kiss make everything in and on her quiver?
Since when did the rough scrape of wiry facial hair turn her on?
Since when did tattoos stop making her think twice about a man?
She groaned.
He probably thought she was groaning from the kiss, while, in actuality, it was from her own thoughts. From the idea of getting involved with a man who wasn’t on the same path as her. Not even close.
She couldn’t afford to do that again.
No. They were just having sex. That was all.
A little detour in the bumpy road of life.
She reminded herself she should be allowed to have moments which didn’t involve growing her business or being successful. She should be allowed to have moments where she could just let her hair down and forget about being a responsible adult.
And that was what these moments with Deacon were. Nothing more.
Right?
They were sexually attracted to each other and the only reason this was even happening. A sort of friends with benefits type of thing, except without the friends part. Forced roommates, more like it.
Deacon wasn’t the kind of man who would push for more, anyway. He was a player who bounced from woman to woman. Because of that, she wouldn’t have to worry about him wanting more.
So, yes, she could allow herself what they had without feeling guilty or feeling pressured for anything more.
As their tongues tangled, her nipples began to ache for his attention and a warmth spread through her belly. A trickle of arousal slipped from her and dampened her panties.
Yes, that was how turned on he made her with simply a kiss.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t a simple kiss, they were sort of eating each other’s faces. She grinned against his mouth, but that grin slipped away as he kissed her harder and deeper, at the same time walking her backwards. Slowly. Carefully.
To the French doors behind her.
To the floor where he stated he’d fuck her. He’d fuck her.
The last few nights she’d been on top, been in the driver’s seat. Tonight, he hinted he wanted to switch that around.
She didn’t have a problem with it. In fact, tonight she could use that. Simply letting the control slip from her hands, letting her enjoy those moments she should allow herself.
Of simply letting go.
Two adults, with no agenda, getting naked and sharing an orgasm or two.
His hand slipped from her hair at the same time her back pressed against the door. When it opened, he used his chest to nudge her inside. With impressive skill, he managed to get them both, along with Justice, through the door and secure it behind them without breaking the kiss.
With a hand on her hip and the other still weaved into her hair, he turned and pulled her with him as he walked backward toward the plush throw rug that sat in front of the fireplace. It was too warm for a fire tonight, so the only light in the room came from the kitchen.
When they stood at the edge, he released her lips, pressed his forehead against hers and panted for a few heartbeats. Her breathing was just as ragged and every part of her begged for his touch.
He pulled his head away. “Am I gettin’ you naked or are you?”
“You, but slowly,” she whispered. Him undressing her would be foreplay. It might even take her right to that edge where it wouldn’t take much for her to have her first orgasm.
With a nod, he backed up, but only to give himself enough space to yank her lacy camisole out of her slacks and over her head. She didn’t see where he tossed it because, for some reason, she had a hard time breaking their connected gaze.
When he reached for her slim leather belt, she shuddered as his fingers worked to unbuckle it. Once loose, he didn’t pull it free, but instead went directly to the button and zipper to unfasten them.
Then he was shoving her pants down until they were free enough to fall to her ankles on their own. She stepped out of them and stood in only her matching black panties and bra.
Now they were both in their underwear, but they still wore too much.
As he reached for the waistband of his boxer briefs, she stepped forward and stopped him. “Let me.”
He said nothing, only gave a slight nod. With his back to the sole source of light, she couldn’t see his eyes clearly.
She took another step closer and cupped his face, leaning in to brush her lips over his, but as he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, she moved downward. Her tongue followed her hands as she traced them over his throat, his bouncing Adam’s apple, the tight corded muscles in his neck.
Her lips brushed, her tongue skimmed, her kisses peppered his heated skin from the hollow of his neck through the valley between his pecs, down the thin line of dark hair over his belly. As she slowly went to her knees, her fingers hooked the waistband of his snug boxer briefs along the way, dragging them down his thighs and letting them drop to the floor at his feet.
“Reese,” came out strained. His muscles were tight, his fingers curling and uncurling against his outer thighs. Even so, he didn’t touch her and he didn’t say anything other than her name.
Her name had been enough for her to know the effect she was having on him.
He wanted to fuck her tonight and she wanted that, too, but she decided to start somewhere else first.
Her hands skimmed from his knees up his solid thighs, the light hair tickling her palms. Cupping his balls in one hand, she circled his length with the other. His hips twitched at the contact but he didn’t move otherwise. His feet remained where he had planted them apart.
From on her knees, she peered up his body and met his gaze. His head had dropped forward and his skilled lips were slightly parted.
She could hear every shallow inhale and exhale he took. And when her lips surrounded his length, she synchronized the rhythm of her mouth to the rhythm of his breath.
“Reese,” escaped him again, but this time on a groan, when she drew on his shaft as deeply as she could. His salty precum coated her tongue when she swirled it around the
crown. She dragged it over the tip and slid it down the underside, along the thick pulsing ridge, and back up before swallowing his length again.
“Fuck,” he breathed, his hands no longer pinned to his sides, but holding on to the top of her head. Every time she swallowed him deep, his hips shifted forward just the tiniest bit and his fingertips twitched in her hair.
Her mouth began to water as he thrust a little harder. Not enough to make her gag, but close. She kept a fist around the root to keep him from driving too deeply, but let him set the pace.
With one hand, he fisted her hair into a ponytail, tugging it away from her face hard enough to pull at her scalp. “Fuck... Not comin’ like this... Not this time.” His breath was broken, and his words sounded like he had difficulty forming them.
He also didn’t stop her. However, she didn’t want him to come this way, either.
She enjoyed being on top the last few nights, but now, she was ready for him to take over. Her panties were soaked, and her nipples peaked to painful points.
She was ready.
He jerked his cock out of her mouth with a hiss and when she glanced up, he was grimacing as he stared at the ceiling, a muscle twitching in his cheek. He was fighting his orgasm. She released him to give him a minute or two to gather himself, even though she was impatient to have him inside her.
After a few moments, he blew out a loud breath and dropped his head to stare at her, still on her knees. “Fuck, babe, nothin’ I want more than to come down your fuckin’ throat right now. And it came close to happenin’ but I’m thinkin’ you’re only givin’ me one shot tonight and that’s not the way I wanna end the night.”
True. She was giving him one shot. Because anything more could be risky. Any kind of lingering could lead to something other than what this was. Something she wasn’t looking for and neither was he, she reminded herself. Being sexually attracted to each other while living in close quarters was just a convenient situation they both were taking advantage of.
He offered his hand and she grabbed it, his long fingers gripping hers firmly as he helped her to her feet.
“Turn around,” he murmured, using their clasped hands to guide her until she was facing away from him.
Blood & Bones: Deacon (Blood Fury MC Book 4) Page 14