by Shyla Colt
“How do you feel about me? Not the mother of your child, or your Old Lady, Ruthie, the girl you were seeing off and on.”
“Do you really have to ask me that?”
“Yes, you’re hard to read on a good day.”
I should tell her I love her. “I more than care for you,” I say, unable to speak the words circling in my mind.
“Yeah?” Her eyes light up like I gave her the hope diamond.
“Yeah.” I let a real smile slip free. I don’t have to keep my walls up with her. She’s the only person I want close to me like that. Pushing her away would be stupid. There’s plenty of shit I’m not certain about, but Ruthie isn’t one of them anymore. I wrap my hand around her neck and pull her to me, pouring all the things I can’t say into the lip lock. She leans against me and I place my opposite hand on her back, moving her down as I deepen the kiss. Our tongues glide against each other. She tastes sweeter than she used to.
I take my time, sampling and exploring. The urge to take her in my childhood room rises. I move away and lift her into my arms bridal style. She giggles and I nip her full lips. Her nipples strain against her white tank top. I bend down and suck a hardened peak into my mouth through her fabric. She arches her back and I nuzzle the valley between her breasts. She smells clean and fresh. “I want to crawl inside you and live, little girl. You give me light and healing when I don’t deserve. I’m going to make you feel as good as I do.” I slip into the light blue room and lay her on the twin-size bed. “I never dreamed I’d have a dime piece like you here in my room.” I peel off the tank top and admire the increase in her cup size. The delicate pink lace bra is working overtime to contain her creamy flesh.
“A dime piece, huh?”
“A perfect ten for me,” I agree.
I strip off her layers and make my way down her body, nipping and tasting every inch of her skin. She tugs off my beanie and buries her fingers in my hair, massaging my scalp. I press a kiss against her belly. The flat belly is gone and replaced with a slight curve. I dip my tongue into her belly button. She gasps and her muscles contract. The scent of her arousal calls to me like a siren. I spread her thighs and trace her slipper slit.
“You’re so sweet right now. I could stay here forever.” I circle her clit and delve the tip of my tongue inside her tight center.
She rocks her hips and I love her slow and steady. Her breath hitches and she grinds her pussy into my face. I suckle her clit and she flies over the edge, yielding her cream as she chokes out a cry.
I watch her recover as I take off my clothes.
She’s beautiful, flushed. Her dark pink nipples stand out in contrast to the creamy skin of her breasts. Her pussy is bare except for a strip of hair that ends above her cleft. Her juices glisten on her thighs.
I grip my base and kneel on the bed, tapping against her sensitive clit. She whimpers and I grin. “One more time for me, girl.” I run my cock between her slick lips, nudging her clit gently.
“Skull.”
There it is. That needy tone I live for. A fresh coat of cream covers my dick. “You ready for me, little girl?” I slip inside her slowly, letting her slick walls stretch around my cock.
“Yes.” She throws her head back and digs her nails into my back.
“So tight and wet, mama.”
“Oh.” She flexes and jerks.
“You like that?” I ask as I pull out and ease back inside this place fast becoming my favorite in the world. I lean down and capture her lips. Our mouths meet in a sensual dance that matches the ones our hips are doing.
She stares into my eyes, fearless, passionate, and adoring. I’ve never had this. Her body quakes as she flexes her muscles. Our connection is wide open and I can see love. The reconnection has me exploding inside her, in an all-consuming orgasm so powerful…I lose my breath. Shell shocked, I bury my face into her neck as she rubs my back and peppers the side of my face with kisses.
Chapter Eight
Ruthie
I knock on the door hoping someone is home.
Bolton answers with a wide grin. “Hey, Aunt Ruthie, what’s going on?”
“I’m in a bind, Bolty. Is your mom around?”
“Yeah. Mom! Aunt Ruthie’s here. You coming in?”
I glance down at my wrist and nod. I was cutting it close, but I had time. “Where’s my hug?”
He gives me a squeeze and I’m taken back by how much he’s filled out in the past year. The lankiness of youth is giving way to muscle and mass. He’s going to be a looker like his dad. “Enjoying being out of school for the summer?”
“Yeah. Next year, I’m a senior, finally.”
“If you’re getting senioritis already, you’re in for a long ride next semester.”
“Nah. Mom would have my hide if I flunked out the last year.”
“Hey, what’s going on?” Blue asks walking in from the kitchen.
“Please tell me you’re free for the next couple of hours.”
“Maybe. What are you about to ask me to do?”
“Come to this church carnival I’m working and keep me from killing my mother.”
“Why would you agree to do this, knowing you’re pissed at her?”
“I signed on for the thing six months ago and completely forgot about it.”
“Crap.”
“Yeah, my thoughts exactly. Rochelle called me bright and early this morning all perky and ready to spread love, joy, and harmony, and reminded me,” I say mock sticking a finger down my throat. “Gag me. Being exposed to her before a certain time of the morning without coffee should be illegal. Being that much of a morning person is freakin’ ridiculous.”
Blue grimaces. “I agree. I remember her from all our sleepovers. We wanted to shove socks into her mouth and tie her up in the closet.”
“Partially, because we were hung over.”
Blue holds up her hands. “Hey, it was your idea to try booze together. I just happened to know a supplier.”
“Okay, I’ll take fifty percent of the blame for that,” I admit.
Bolton laughs. “I think I would’ve liked to see that.”
“You never heard that, Bolty,” she warns.
“We were angels,” I add with a wink.
He chuckles. “Is this where you tell me do what you say and not as you do?” Bolton asks.
“You got it, kid. That brain of yours always kept you a few steps ahead of the game,” Blue teases.
I laugh.
“When do you need me?”
“Oh, you know like fifteen minutes from now,” I answer nervously
“What the hell, Ruthie?”
“It’s—that whole sickness brain. You know I haven’t been feeling so hot recently,” I defend unsure if Bolton knows about my condition.
“Because Uncle Skull knocked you up?” Bolton asks.
I roll my eyes.
“We thought he should know in case you ever needed anything and couldn’t get a hold of us.”
“Smart thinking. Yeah, prego brain is a real thing.”
“What am I agreeing to?” Blue asks.
“Running the face painting booth. It’ll be fun. We have an airbrush unit and manual.”
“Oh, goodie.” Blue claps her hands.
I scowl.
“Let me make myself presentable for a church function and I’ll meet you down there in ten minutes,” Blue says. “Sit down and relax. You’re working and stressing way too hard these days.”
“I’ll keep her company, Mama,” Bolton says giving me a side hug and maneuvering me over to the couch.
I sit down with a plop.
He flashes me a smile so much like Blue’s, I forget biologically he’s her nephew. “You’re going to be dangerous next year.”
“Me?” He places a hand on his chest.
> “Yeah you, blue eyes,” I accuse pointing a finger at him.
“Nah. Do you guys need me to go with you?” he asks.
“I don’t think much is going to happen at St. Mary’s Festival.”
Bolton frowns. “Probably not, but I get the feeling Uncle Skull and Dad wouldn’t want you two off on your own right now. Given your condition and the state of unrest still lingering over us. I’m going to come with you and hang out.”
“Hey. I know no seventeen-year-old wants to do that.”
“Family always comes first, and you were family long before you became Skull’s Old Lady,” Bolton states firmly.
His words make me smile. “You’re wise for your age, kiddo. You know that?”
“Learned everything I know from my mom and dad.”
The happiness in his words brings tears to my eyes. He finally has what he deserved all along. A cohesive, loving family unit that wants nothing more than the best for him. “Those two are pretty awesome,” I agree.
“I think you and Uncle Skull will be too,” he says softly.
“That means a lot, thank you.”
“Am I boring enough?” Blue asks appearing at the bottom of the stairs in a pair of knee length khaki shorts, a white camisole, and black flip-flops.
“You are perfect. The kid is tagging along with us. Guess he has a hankering for cotton candy,” I say with a shrug.
“You are so your father’s child,” Blue states proudly.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Mama. I’ll follow you two on my bike.” He walks out leaving us trailing behind him.
“My son all grown up and already turning into a brother before he even prospects,” she mumbles.
“Look at his dad and grandpa. Kid never stood a chance to be anything else.”
“No, but a part of me still wants him to at least get an Associate’s Degree. We’re moving toward legal businesses. His skills will be a great asset.”
“Look at you setting your baby up to be taken into the fold and seen as more than another body.”
“You’ll see when that little one arrives.”
I place my hand on my belly. “Unless she’s a girl.”
“Then we’ll teach her how to stand her ground, and wait to see if she’ll fall for brothers like we did.”
The easy way she included herself in the equation comforts me. “You’re the best, you know that?”
“Yes, but a girl likes to hear nice things every now and then from her best gal.” She bats her lashes as we lock the door behind us.
“Come on, smart ass, I don’t want to be late. It’ll give me mother yet another reason to bitch.”
“Have you talked to her since the last time?”
“No, and she hasn’t called. Maybe she got the message?”
“Your mom is on that Stephen King Carrie’s mom type level, so I’m going to go out on a limb and say…no. She’s just regrouping.”
“Great.”
“I’m guessing Skull doesn’t know?”
“Not the details, why?” I ask glancing at her with my peripheral vision.
“Along with being stubborn, he’s crazy as hell when the situation calls for it. He’d let her know how he felt about her little suggestion. You don’t want to see him get ugly.”
I shudder thinking of the rage in his eyes the night he’d learned about my father. “No, I really don’t.” Then I remember the sex and the no falters for a minute.
Once inside the car, we crank the AC/DC and I’m transported to our high school years as we sing at the top our lungs with Bolton trailing us. We pull into the crowded lot and I can’t keep the smile off my face. I love helping with festivals. Kids have a special brand of magic. Everything is so new and exciting to them. I love doing volunteer work that involves those under the age of twelve. I hook my arm in Blue’s and lead her over to the heart of the festival where the booths are set up. I know the drill with tails. You ignore them so they can blend in.
“You brought back up, that’s smart, ‘cause she is on a warpath,” Rochelle whispers.
“Well, hello to you too, Sunshine,” I say.
“I’m serious. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like this. You’d think you made a deal with the devil the way she carries on about your ruin and saving you.”
“Like I said. Carrie,” Blue quips.
“Shut it. What did you say back?”
“That it was your life, and you weren’t doing anything wrong. She told me I was too young to remember the damage they could inflict. This feels so personal. I’m half tempted to call up Dad.”
I cringe “I didn’t hear you say that.”
“There’s two sides to every story. Maybe it’s time we hear his.”
“I saw it,” I whisper.
“Through the eyes of a child too young to catch everything,” Rochelle replies.
“I can’t have any part of that.”
She frowns. “He’s our father.”
“My loyalty lies with the club.”
Rochelle nibbles the inside of her cheek. “Really?”
“There’s no half in and half out, Roch.”
“I guess not. Think on it anyway. Maybe talk it through with Skull. I need to head out. Rowan has a play date in a bit here.”
“Give my baby girl kisses from me.”
“I will. Mom is on her lunchbreak, but she’s working the ticket booth across the ways.”
“I’ll be fine. I brought Blue here with me.”
“I love being that middle child who runs interference,” Blue says.
“Have fun, ladies.” Rochelle gives us quick hugs, grabs her pure, and disappears into the crowd.
“Did she seem a little off to you?” I ask.
“Yeah, but the situation is heavy. That does different things to different folks.”
“I hope you’re right.” I shake my head to clear it. “Let’s get set up, munchkins will be pouring in wanting to get some ink soon.”
“Oh, are we opening up Ruthie’s Tat shop?”
“Oh yes, were you can get très chic master pieces.” I give her a crash course in the airbrush with stencils and we get out first customers trickling in. We started a steady flow as the festival traffic picked up, and my nerves disappeared.
“How much for a face tattoo?”
The voice makes my blood run cold.
I look up from the cash till, where I’m making change and freeze. Dad. His face is worn and weathered by the sun and drugs. His hair is a shock of white, and his thin frame seems to have shrunk. His eyes are the same light shade of green I see every day in the mirror. The money falls from my hands onto the table. I lose the ability to think as the world fades into the background and white noise sounds in my ear.
“Your mother tells me you’re following in my footsteps, and making my mistakes. I knew it was bad when she tracked me back down and contacted me. I wanted to see if it was true before I did anything.”
I open my mouth and close it, unable to form a sentence in my head let alone speak it.
“Hey, you okay?” Blue asks.
I turn to look at her and then back at my father.
She makes change and hands it to the woman waiting with her daughter. “We’ll just have a ten-minute break folks, we have to change some colors out,” Blue says. “Sir, I think it’s pretty clear she doesn’t want to speak to you.”
“Girl, I’m not here to have some tart I don’t know give me lip. This is between me and my daughter.”
I glance across the aisle and see my mother’s satisfied expression. She did this. “You need to leave,” I say forcing my voice to remain steady.
“You think these people are your friends? They came into your life and filled a void. Maybe they preyed upon your daddy issues. I accept blame for that.”
His head turns to the right as my palm makes its mark on his cheek.
Gasps fill the air around us.
“Are you fucking deaf, old man? The lady asked you to leave,” Bolton snarls, sounding all the world like a fully patched member.
“Listen, pip squeak. This is grown man’s business. I suggest you stay out of it,” my father drawls in that condescending tone I remember so well.
“I’ve known Aunt Ruthie my entire life and never seen you once. I think I know more about business that has to do with her than you do,” Bolton says forcing me to stand behind him.
I place my hand on his shoulder. “I got this. My family. My mess.” I turn to my so-called father. “Your advice isn’t wanted or needed. I don’t appreciate the sudden misplaced concern. I’m exactly where I want to be,” I state sickened by the sight of the man who’s caused me so much pain and grief. “Looks like Mom sent you on a wild goose chase.”
“No, I think I’m exactly where I need to be, close to the story. I’m a man who believes in paying his debts. I owe your mother this much. What happens next, will benefit us both. Remember I gave you a chance to get out of the spotlight.”
“What are you going to do?”
“What I do best—”
“Get wasted and disappear off the face of the Earth? Been there, done that, got the therapy bill,” I say interrupting him.
“You’ve got a smart mouth, like your old man.”
“Like myself,” I correct him.
“Stubborn like me too.”
“I don’t know what you’re looking for from me. But I assure you, it’s not here to be found. Go back under the rock you crawled out from,” I snarl.
“You’re going to see how quick your new family will turn on you. After all they did to your mother, I’m ashamed to see you with them.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“In all the years you never thought about why she’s like this? You really think it’s the work of one man? We fought, but I never beat her, or—” The sound of bikes in the distance make him stop in mid-sentence.