My Kinda Mess

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My Kinda Mess Page 21

by Lacey Black


  “You like that?” he asks, crawling onto the bed with me and wrapping his body around my back. “You like to be spanked?”

  “Apparently,” I say, breathlessly.

  “Mmmm,” he mumbles, running his nose around my shoulder and inhaling sharply. “I’ll have to remember that.”

  Linkin grips my hips. “Lean forward and place your hands on the bed.”

  I get on all fours and wait for whatever he has planned next. I don’t have to wait long before his big hands run from the backs of my thighs, up and grip my ass once again. “Seeing your ass all rosy is making me hard as fuckin’ concrete,” he groans, kneading the globes of my ass with his warm hands.

  Groaning, I push back into his hold and I find myself on the verge of begging. Begging for him to touch me, take me. I’ve never felt this wild, this out of control, as I do right now, right here with him.

  “I need to taste you,” he says before squatting behind me. His big finger grabs the string of my thong, brushing against my swollen, soaked center as he does. Again, I’m unable to control the moan of pleasure.

  “You’re so wet,” he says, sliding his fingers between my folds. “So fucking wet for me. Do you want me to taste you, Lexi? Do you want me to lick your sweet pussy?”

  Whimpering, I try to make myself speak words, but I just can’t seem to do it. My brain is officially nonfunctional, so I let my body speak for me. Pushing back against his finger, I feel the tip penetrate me.

  “Is that what you want?” he asks, slipping one big finger into my center. I mumble some sort of garbled acknowledgement. Linkin slides his finger in and out, a slow, torturous movement that serves as an accelerant to the already burning fire within me.

  “How about this?” he asks moments before his finger is gone. It’s quickly replaced with warm breath and a hot tongue.

  Linkin swipes his tongue through my pussy, licking and tasting me. His hold on my ass cheeks tenses, driving me closer to the edge. As he probes me with his tongue, I start to shake, my arms and legs weakening as my body is strung even tighter. It’s too much, yet not enough all at the same time.

  “Let go,” he grumbles without removing his mouth. The vibrations from his words, combined with his possessive grip on my ass, push me over the edge. Blinding white light fills my vision as I gasp and wither against his face. Linkin draws every ounce of pleasure out of my orgasm with his tongue, until I’m ready to collapse in exhaustion.

  “I’m not done with you, sugar,” he says from somewhere behind me.

  I hear the sound of him removing his jeans, but I don’t have the strength to turn and watch. Instead, I wait, there on my bed on my hands and knees. I wait for his command.

  Fortunately, the wait is short-lived. He climbs onto the bed with me, positioning himself at my rear. Pressing his hard chest against my back, he reaches around and gently releases my breasts from the cups of the corset. Linkin plays with my nipples, the sensitive nubs hard little buds of nerves.

  When he’s satisfied with the state of my nipples, he switches his focus to my panties. I feel the tug of the second tie before it’s pulled away completely from my body. I’m just about to beg him to hurry when I feel the head of his large cock slide through the wetness. He moves it around, coating himself with my moisture.

  “Please. Hurry.” My words are choppy. A plea.

  “Patience, Firecracker,” he says, sliding his dick up and moving it around my ass. I tense, not really sure how I feel about him being in the no-fly zone. “Relax, baby. I won’t do that. Yet.” He punctuates that one word by nipping at the back of my shoulder.

  Moaning, I try to stay still, try to control my breathing.

  It’s a lost cause.

  Especially when I feel him start to push inside of me.

  My pussy stretches around him, taking everything he gives. He’s seated all the way in moments later, a loud sigh of pleasure ripping from my throat. “Fuck, you are so hot and wet and tight.” Pulling back, he pushes back inside with a little more force this time. “I could do this every day.” Out and slamming back in. “Over and over.” With each word, he thrusts his hips, crashing into my body in perfect rhythm.

  “Yes, yes,” I chant as he continues to plunge.

  I can feel a fine sheen of sweat on my overly sensitive body. Linkin continues to grip my hips tightly, surely leaving bruises with his fingers, as he pounds into my body. “Yes,” I groan, arching my back and changing up the angle of his cock. And that’s when it hits that wonderful place inside of me, that leaves me panting like a dog and crying out in pleasure.

  Linkin slides one hand up my back, tracing the dimples and divots of my spine with his fingers. The other hand continues to hold me hostage, his hips pounding against my butt as he leads me headfirst into another orgasm. I can feel it coming, my body quaking and gripping his massive erection. His hand moves up my back and grips my shoulder, making me arch perfectly.

  My release sweeps in, overwhelming and all-consuming. I bear down on him, grasping him tightly with my internal muscles, milking him dry. Linkin follows me into paradise, vocalizing his release with non-intelligent words.

  When he’s finally still, our bodies sated and spent, he tucks himself into the crook of my back and turns us into the bed. We’re lying back to front, his body still buried within my own. He holds me firmly against his sweaty body. The only sound is our joint pants as we try to get our breathing under control.

  It’s perfect.

  “I’d say I made the right choice in lingerie,” I whisper, my lips and tongue suddenly dry.

  “I’d say. Though, if you’re not quite convinced, I could do a little more convincing in about an hour or so.”

  “An hour? I thought young twenty-six year old men had better stamina than that,” I quip, intentionally trying to get a rise out of him.

  “Baby, I think I’ve proved moreover that my stamina is just fine,” he says, wrapping his body around mine tighter. I can actually feel his cock flex inside of me.

  “How about a shower?” I ask.

  “The pizza’s probably cold,” he adds, placing a kiss on my bare shoulder.

  “Shower first, reheated pizza after,” I suggest.

  “Then I’m going to show you more of my stamina,” he says, turning me in his arms and dislodging himself from my body.

  Linkin grazes his lips over the tops of mine, slowly and savoring. A sigh of contentment slips from my throat as something bursts true in my chest.

  Love.

  What I feel for this man is so much deeper and more real than anything I’ve ever felt before, and I’m no longer scared of it. It’s time to embrace it, revel in it.

  It’s time to live.

  Chapter Twenty

  Linkin

  There’s an extra pep to my step as I make my way to the dive Mexican restaurant in Westville. I haven’t been here in months, not since my last payment. And after today, this’ll be the last fucking time I’m here.

  I walk inside, anxious to get this little meeting over with.

  The restaurant is dimly lit with Mexican music piping through the speakers. I bypass the hostess stand, keeping my head down as I head straight to the back of the room. There, sitting at the same table as always, is the man who took everything from my family.

  No, that’s not exactly true.

  He was the facilitator.

  My piece of shit stepfather, wherever the fuck he is, is the reason. This man just helped.

  I slide into the bench across from Hector. He doesn’t even look up as he shovels forkfuls of refried beans into his open trap. Without saying a word, I reach into the inside jacket pocket and pull out an envelope.

  “Two?” he asks, glancing up only to look at the envelope on the table.

  “All of it,” I say, no emotion in my voice.

  That gets his attention.

  Setting his fork down, he wipes his mouth with a tattered napkin and reaches for the en
velope. Without removing the bills, he counts out five thousand. Hector glances up at me, his dark eyebrows raised into his shaggy hair. “You rob a bank?”

  “How I got the money isn’t your business. That’s the final payment. We’re done.”

  “Done,” he confirms, shoving the money into his pocket.

  “Call my mom. Tell her that her last payment was it.” My tone is to the point and emotionless, but inside, I’m a ball of fucking energy.

  Hector whips out his phone and dials. “Karen, my love, how are you?” I swear I almost fly across the table. My fists ball up under the table, and it takes every ounce of control I have not to react. “Good news, the debt is paid. Your last payment covered it.” He listens for a moment before adding, “If you ever need any help with money, you call,” but before he can say his name, I’m ripping the phone from his hand and hanging up.

  With one swift swipe of my finger, I delete my mom’s contact info from the dirtbag’s phone. “That’s enough. Don’t ever contact my mom again. You’re paid in full.”

  “I am,” he says, taking his phone back from me. “If you ever see your daddy again, tell him his line of credit has been restored.”

  “He ain’t my daddy,” I growl menacingly. “Don’t contact us again. We’re done,” I say, sliding out of the bench.

  “We’re done,” he confirms, nodding his head. A look of respect washes over his face. “You’re a good man, Linkin. It wasn’t your mess, but you cleaned it up. Take care of your mom,” he adds before I turn towards the door and walk out.

  The sunlight is almost blinding as I step out of the restaurant, but I feel weightless. Relieved.

  We’re free.

  * * *

  I’m not sure what has me pulling into this particular parking lot as I arrive back at Jupiter Bay, but I don’t question it. I climb out of my old Blazer and head inside the brick building.

  My hands are stuffed into my pockets as I approach the receptionist’s desk. It’s tall and imposing and sort of hides the pleasant woman on the other side. “Can I help you?” she asks, beaming a bright white smile and friendly disposition.

  “Uh, yeah. Is Dean here? Dean McIntire?” I ask nervously, which makes her smile falter.

  “Is he expecting you?”

  “No, I don’t have an appointment. Can you tell him Linkin Stone is here to see him?”

  She nods her head politely and heads down the hallway. She returns a few moments later, Dean hot on her heels. “Linkin,” he says, offering me a smile as he pushes up his glasses to perch higher on his nose. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, sure. Actually, I was wondering if you had a few minutes? I’m sure you’re busy since it’s tax season and all. I promise not to take up too much of your time.” Again, I feel nervous and rock on the balls of my feet to keep moving.

  “Sure,” he says before turning to the receptionist. “Hold my calls.”

  I follow Dean into a large office. He offers me a chair, but doesn’t go around to sit on the opposite side of the desk. Instead, he takes the seat beside me, which instantly puts me a bit at ease. The last time I was on this side of a large desk, I was in the principal’s office for skipping school.

  “What can I help you with?” he asks, giving me his full attention.

  “I know you’re not a financial advisor, or whatever in the hell they’re called, but I was hoping you might help me get some things squared away for the future. Or at least give a direction on how to start.”

  “What are you thinking?” he asks, leaning forward and looking me straight in the eye. His interest is definitely piqued.

  The next thing I know, I’m telling him my entire story. Everything about my mom and brothers, the reason we left Westville, and the debt I just paid. I even go as far as to tell him about Lexi and my offer to help her conceive. He’s officially the only person I’ve ever told about my past, without glossing over the big things, but there’s something I like about Dean. He seems genuine and trustworthy, which isn’t something I’m accustomed to.

  Except where Lexi and her family is concerned.

  We spend the next thirty minutes going over my finances, or lack thereof. I’m starting with nothing, but I have a thousand reasons to improve that situation. By this time next week, I’ll have a savings account, checking account, and something called an IRA. Whatever the fuck that means.

  But if it’s going to help me protect my future – a future I want with Lexi and any potential unborn children I may be fortunate to have – I’m all in. But I can’t exactly offer her nothing, so it’s time to get my ducks in a fucking row. That starts today.

  * * *

  “Get in the shower,” I tell Jack for the third time in the last fifteen minutes.

  The knuckleheads are running around in their underwear and the new armor Lexi got them for Christmas. I’m not sure what the hell is going on, but they’re wound the fuck up tight tonight, and they’re both grating on my last nerve.

  “Jack!” I holler over the dying in the living room. When I enter the room, I trip over a wire strung about six inches off the floor and fall.

  “Dammit, Jeff!” I growl, picking myself up off the floor.

  “Dammit, Jeff!” Jack mimics in a pretty good impression of my no-nonsense voice. If I weren’t so pissed off, I’d find it funny.

  But I don’t.

  “Jack, don’t say that!”

  “Jack, don’t say that!” he copycats, swinging his sword around and almost knocking his twin’s head off.

  “I swear to God,” I start, but my threat is cut off by a knock at the door.

  Tripping over a remote control car, I throw open the door, surprised to see Emma there. “Hey,” I say, stepping aside as she pushes her way in.

  “I was just over at Abby and Levi’s, dropping off a pecan pie and a vibrating butt plug, and thought I’d stop by and say hello,” she says so casually, I almost miss what the hell she just said.

  “What?”

  “Oh, don’t act like you’ve never heard of a vibrating butt plug. It was a free gift with my last purchase at Adam & Eve. I already have three, so I shared it with sweet little Abby. Anyway, I thought I’d stop by and see what you were up to. Oh, look at this!” she exclaims, walking into my living room. “You’re having a party! I love parties.”

  I follow behind the little ol’ lady who’s already grabbing a sword and hoisting it high above her head. “Grandma loves a good, hard sword! Can I play?” she asks my brothers, who stare at the crazy old woman like she has two heads.

  “You want to play gladiators with us?” Jeff asks, surprised, yet hopeful.

  “Damn right, I do!” she exclaims, smiling widely as she kills my little brother.

  “Oh! She got me!” Jack stumbles around, drawing out and overacting his untimely death.

  “I’m better with the flesh sword, you know, but this will do just fine,” Emma mumbles to me, an ornery smirk on her face, before she proceeds to dance around my living room like a banshee and stalks after my other brother.

  “Could I, uh, get you a glass of tea? Or water?” I ask, scratching my head and watching her interact with my brothers.

  “Maybe some water, son,” she says, swinging the sword around with a battle cry. I run off to my kitchen.

  A few minutes later, Emma joins me in the kitchen, a satisfied look on her face. “So those are the brothers?”

  “They are. Sorry they’re a little wound up tonight,” I apologize, handing her a glass of water.

  “Don’t worry about it. I helped raise six girls. You don’t know what chaos is until they’re all trying to use the bathroom at the same time.” I snort a laugh, picturing Lexi and her sisters all fighting to get into the bathroom to get ready for school.

  “It’s awfully quiet in there. I should go check on them.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that. Jack is in the shower and Jeff is reading a book.”

  I blink once, tw
ice, multiple times, trying to process what she just said. “Excuse me? You got Jack in the shower? And Jeff to…read?”

  “Of course, Grandma did!” She takes a few steps until she’s standing practically right in front of me. She glances around conspiratorially before whispering, “The key is to make them think it was their idea. I asked the boys what they were supposed to do before bed, and the next thing you know, they’re offering to read and shower.”

  Rubbing my head, I reply, “I have so much to learn.”

  “You’ll do just fine,” she says, patting my hand. The knowing look in her eyes makes me wonder if maybe she knows about Lexi’s and my arrangement. And that would make sense. Lexi’s very close to her family, so why wouldn’t she discuss having a baby with me?

  “Would you like to stay for a bit?” I ask as she heads towards the door.

  “No, my Orvie is waiting on me. He took one of his little blue pills, so I’m on the clock to get home,” she adds, checking her watch.

  I follow her to the door, and hold it open. “Thanks for stopping by.”

  She gazes up at me with kind, smiling eyes. “Link, you’re a good man. Keep making my granddaughter happy and everything will fall into place.” She reaches up, grabs me around the neck, and pulls me down towards her lips. I think she’s going to place one of those grandmotherly kisses on the cheek, but no. Not Emma.

  Lexi’s grandma presses her lips against mine, rendering me completely speechless and immobile. She pulls away quickly, a satisfied smirk on her face before throwing me a wave over her shoulder. “Tata!”

  Then she’s gone, leaving behind the scent of sugar cookies and mothballs.

  I shake my head, trying to get the image of Emma’s liplock out of my head. It was innocent, sure, but still. It’s my girl’s eighty-one-year-old grandma. Not exactly something I want to think about. Ever.

  Instead, I take a quick moment to enjoy the silence and check my phone. There’s a message from Lexi, who is working late tonight at the salon.

 

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