by Misty Walker
“No, Trouble, it’s not.” Law sits with his back up against a tree and then pulls me between his legs. He brushes my long hair over my shoulder and pulls me back against him. His nose goes to my neck and he breathes in deep, sending goose bumps prickling along my skin. “And you’ll regret teaching him that when his teachers’ wallets go missing and they find them in our kid’s desk,” he whispers into my ear. I ignore him and focus on the chills his breath against my ear sends down my spine and straight between my legs. I run my hands up and down his thighs, squeezing once when I get to the top of his legs. “Mrs. Packwood, you don’t want to get me hard at a company picnic. It’s an HR nightmare.”
Every time he calls me Mrs. Packwood, I’m taken back to our wedding. I made my wedding dress. I found the exact pattern I loved when Mom was preparing to make a dress for my wedding with Wen. It was simple and understated, two things I’ll never be, but it made for a gorgeous dress. Besides, my family and I are outrageous enough without adding the crazy clothes. We were married in our backyard. My whole family attended, including all the families I grew up with. Including Wen. But that’s another story.
I turn my head and offer my lips to him. He takes them, kissing me sweetly. I sigh and pull away, pivoting to see where Hanz has gone. I spot him a few feet away, sneaking up on Mark, who is talking to Leander. They’re standing close and look very comfortable around each other. He’s gone through his own trials the last few years when he told Dad he wouldn’t take on an arranged marriage. Dad blamed me, but after some time, he forgave us both. I know he feels like he’s failing Mom, but I know she’s in heaven and is proud of her kids. Even if we do our own thing.
“I’ll get him.” Law moves from behind me.
“Wait. No.” I set a hand on his arm, stopping him. “Just watch.”
Hanz gets Mark’s wallet out of his back pocket, but when he turns to run away, he squeals with laughter, grabbing Mark’s attention. When Mark turns and sees him running as fast as a toddler can run, he smiles. Then he notices the bright orange wallet in his meaty paws.
“Hanz! Hanz! That is a Bottega Veneta. Give it back to Unky Mark.” He speed walks after Hanz, but the baby just squeals more and picks up speed. He reaches us before Mark can get him. “Thea. Really. He’s a baby, and you taught him to steal wallets?”
“He’s got a knack for it. What can I say?” I shrug.
“You are a terribly irresponsible parent.” Mark snags Hanz and the wallet. “Come with Unky Mark. I’m going to teach you how to flirt. It’ll get you far in life and not break any laws.” The two of them go back to where Leander is. Law and I laugh.
“I’m glad my brother came today.” I mention and grab my guitar case. Taking it out, I lightly strum chords and hum along.
“Yeah. It’s good to see him getting out. He’s been working hard ever since he got that job.”
I set the guitar down and twist around, sitting up on my knees in front of Law. My fingers go to my hair without me knowing. They twist and twirl in tiny sections of the long locks.
“I’ve got some news,” I announce.
“Oh, yeah?” Law snags my hand from my hair and kisses my palm, keeping hold of it.
“Yeah. I was gonna wait until later. Leander agreed to babysit so we could go have dinner, but I’m too excited.” I reach into the diaper bag and snag a onesie, giving it to him.
“Trouble is coming.” He reads and looks up at me. My hands are clapping silently and I’m smiling big. “Really?”
“Yep! Took ten tests this morning just to be sure!”
Law’s been bugging me for another baby the second Hanz stopping wanting to snuggle all the time. Our child’s only desire right now is to play hard until he passes out. Building blocks up high and crashing through them, scribbling with crayons so hard they break, and climbing… everything. Law misses coming home from work and holding a calm baby to his chest. With the anxiety that grips hold of him from all the messes Hanz makes, I agree a baby might help. Besides, we both want a big family. Might as well keep going while I’m still young enough to keep up.
Law pulls me into his arms and kisses my forehead. “Just when I think I’m the happiest man in the world, you tell me something that makes me even happier.”
I wrap my arms around his middle, enjoying this small break without a child.
“Think we can sneak off for a minute?” I ask.
“What did you have in mind?”
“There’s a maintenance building out by the pond. I was thinking we should inspect it.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. “Let’s do it.”
He stands up and holds a hand to me. I think about ignoring the gesture, but if I’ve learned anything by being with Law, it’s that I can let my walls down with him. For so long, I worried any weakness I showed a man would be used to exploit me later. If I accepted help up or a door being opened, the man would automatically put me into an inferior category. I hated feeling less than. Law is different. His kindness comes from his heart and he has no ill intentions. So, I accept his hand and we sneak off to find some privacy.
We make it undetected. Law’s lips go right to my neck, trailing kisses across my throat. My hands go under his shirt and weave through the spattering of hair. Law picks me up and sets me onto some kind of wooden shop table. He lifts my skirt up and reaches up to my panties, dragging them down my legs.
“Have I ever told you how much I fucking love your skirts?” He pockets my panties.
“Once or twice,” I pant out. This man can get me wet with just a look, but throw in pregnancy hormones, and I’m a mess of desire for him.
He unbuttons his pants and pulls out his dick. Finally, he’s pulling my ass to the edge of the table and driving home. I moan and he puts a hand over my mouth. It only makes me moan more.
“Fuck me,” I say, but it’s muffled.
“What?” he whispers out and removes his hand.
“I said fuck me.” It comes out too loudly. He covers my mouth with his own, forcing my silence with the stroke of his tongue against mine. He thrusts and fast and hard, causing an orgasm to start within minutes. I lock my ankles on top of his ass and pull him into me harder and faster. He grips onto the edge of the table, and the second my orgasm wanes, I feel his cock pulse inside of me. He grunts through gritted teeth and spills his seed inside my body.
When he’s finally spent, he leans his forehead against mine. We share breaths and heartbeats. Our gazes lock and our souls entwine. There isn’t a moment I spend with this man I would ever give up. I’m trouble, reckless, and bohemian. He’s order, calm, and law-abiding. Together we make a bohemian law and this is our story.
Kristi Webster, you make me proud every single day. No one works as hard as you do while also making it look as easy as you do. Every time I sit down at my laptop you are there cheering me on and telling me I can do it. Everyone needs a Kristi in their lives.
Ty-bot, thank you for reading Conversion, but maybe skip this one. Too much lovey-dovey feelings in this one for you. Thank you for supporting this dream of mine.
Genevieve, my sister from another mister, thank you for reminding me daily that I’m awesome. You may think they are just words, but those words are the backbone of my confidence. I love you!
Sasha, Ariadna, Cindy, Amy, and Elizabeth, thank you for your courage to pick through my words and make them better. I love you all for using your precious time to help me on my journey. Also, Ariadna, thank you for all the amazing, pretty graphics you make me. I seriously can’t thank you enough.
Emily A. Lawrence, I still make you work hard for your money, but how about me finally (mostly) conquering that/who? I’m patting myself on the back. Thank you for not only fixing my words, but also for helping me along the way. You’re the best.
Stacey Blake, without me even telling you what the book is about, you format and decorate my books so perfectly.
Mom, I wish everyone had a mom like you. You support me blindly and make me feel like I am the very best writer in t
he world. I’m so glad I have you in my corner.
To my readers & my Thirsties, thank you the most! You guys rock my world and motivate me to keep writing. I love nothing more than to get your messages and read your reviews. It’s a great big book world, but you choose to pick mine up and that means everything.
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Misty Walker, born with the name of a stripper, horse or cat, but gifted with the ability to tell stories. She’s fueled by coffee and motivated by the forceful voices in her head screaming to tell their story. If she’s not reading or writing, she’s spending time with her daughters, husband, and two dogs. But mostly she’s reading or writing.