by Marie Harte
There, with him. She called for Lou, not some faceless partner in her bed.
“Yes, please. Lou, in me,” she begged.
And he knew he’d found heaven in the golden taste of Josephine Reeves. He thrust a finger inside her and worked her clit, teething the hard nub while he filled her with one, then two digits.
“Yes, yes. Oh God,” she cried out and seized, climaxing so prettily.
Lou kissed her through it, then couldn’t wait any longer. While she continued to tremble, he rose over her, nudged her thighs wide, then pushed inside. The tremors and tight glove of her pussy had him shoving hard, fast, and deep.
She continued to come, and he plunged in and out, staring into her slumberous eyes while he crested his own fulfilment. Joey’s tiny nails dug into his hips, then his ass as she held him while he poured into her on a roar, the shock of his climax obliterating.
What felt like a long time later, Lou came back to himself and worried he was crushing her.
“No, stay.” She stroked his arms, tracing the tats across his chest.
“Damn, baby. If I was a cat, I’d be purring,” he said, hoarse and still trying to catch his breath. She felt so snug around him, and despite the fact he’d recently climaxed, he felt thick, locked in her body’s embrace.
Lou swore and shifted, pulling out only to shove himself back into her warmth. “Joey.” He leaned down to kiss her, taken with the gentle kiss he received in return.
She nibbled at his lips, stroking with those small hands.
“You’re really good at sex,” she murmured.
He laughed, feeling sleepy. “Almost as good as you, huh?”
“No, not me. I have problems with it.”
They both laughed at what they’d proved a fallacy and snuggled together.
After some time, Lou felt sleepy, so he withdrew from Joey’s fine body and left for the bathroom. “Be right back.”
He returned cleaned up, the condom disposed of.
Then it was her turn for a pit stop. He pulled the covers over him while she was gone.
She came back and slid into his arms again.
He sighed and kissed her forehead while he held her tight. “You fit, Joey.”
“Hmm. My own personal electric blanket.”
“You say the sweetest things,” Lou teased. “But baby, I know I’m hot.”
She chuckled. “True. And so humble.”
He smiled. “I’m too sated to be humble. Gotta get some rest so I can fuck you again.” He heard himself slurring but didn’t care. “You’re so good. So sweet.”
“Not that sweet, because here I am.” She stroked his chest. “I should go.”
He automatically tightened his arms around her. “Not yet. Stay longer.”
“Just a little.”
He yawned. “Give me five…” and drifted into sleep.
But some part of his subconscious knew he held a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity in his arms, and he woke up later in the dark of morning and had her again. And again.
When he finally woke to the sun shining through his window, she was gone. But the floral scent of her remained.
He stretched. “Joey?”
Nothing.
Damn.
He rose, hit the john, then found a note on the kitchen counter for him.
See you again soon, I hope. Thanks, Lou. Joey
And hearts. A lot of hand-drawn hearts.
Lou smiled. “Oh baby. I’ll be seeing you soon for sure. You can take that to the bank.”
Chapter 12
Seattle Center
Joey yawned again, unable to stop herself.
“That’s fourteen yawns, Mom.” Brandon huffed. “Come on. We’re missing the balloon animals.”
“Of course we are.” She followed her son, eager to get back home where she could take a much-needed nap.
One on Saturday had come much sooner than expected. Falling asleep in Lou’s arms had been a huge mistake. Because he’d felt so incredibly good. So sexy. Despite their rough beginning, they’d muddled along way too easily. With sex and more sex.
She’d been desperate to get out in one piece, but before she could simply take off and leave a note, he’d nearly done her in. After a brief few hours of sleep, her sex machine—lover?—had woken her for more. He especially liked being on top, doing her beneath him. On her belly or her back didn’t matter with Lou “doing the driving.” And God, she had no problem riding in the passenger seat.
She’d been pinned, overwhelmed, and so turned on, she couldn’t function in her race to climax. Lou had continued to wear a condom without being asked. She tingled, remembering how good he’d felt inside her. And that mouth. Sinful. She sighed. Then she yawned again.
“Fifteen,” Brandon growled.
“Yes, dear.” She quirked a grin, only half-awake. She and Brandon spent the afternoon in Seattle Center at one of the many excuses Seattle had to celebrate a festival. This one had plenty of carnival food, gluten-free offerings, prize booths, and energy-efficient storyboarding as they walked around. Oh good, and there, a walking penis talking about safe sex.
“Mom, what’s that? A giant hot dog?”
She shrugged. As good a description as any. “Yep.” She turned him. “Come on, I see funnel cake.”
Nothing like sugaring her son up and enjoying his hyped rush while she followed him around like a zombie.
She still couldn’t get over the fact that she’d spent the night. Joey never did that. But she’d fallen asleep with Lou, not bothered by his body heat or closeness. So odd. Except after that blissful wake-up with more sex, Joey hadn’t been able to fall back to sleep, her brain buzzing along with her body.
“Oh, look, Mom. Kittens!”
She groaned and followed Brandon, doing her best to put Lou out of her thoughts. For a few minutes, at least.
They petted a few stray kittens needing good homes, and for once, Brandon didn’t bug her to adopt an animal. His attention had been lured away by wooden swords at a toy concession in the next booth.
She opened her mouth to tease him when she spotted the unthinkable. She blinked her eyes to be sure, but the apparition staring back at her—at them—didn’t fade. Across the grassy field, the man responsible for an event that had totally changed her life, the father of her child, stood staring at them. Felix Rogers.
Even Brandon could feel the weight of his stare. Brandon frowned. “Mom, who’s that?”
“What? I don’t know. Come on, honey. Let’s go home. Your mom needs a nap. Now tell me about your sleepover.” Home, where she could try to recover from hardly any sleep and sore inner thighs and pretend her world wasn’t about to change for the worse.
While Brandon told her all about Jekyll the dog’s exploits and Colin and Todd, Joey kept a subtle eye out for Felix. She saw him watching them, but he did nothing to come closer. It was all she could do to walk normally with her son when she had an urge to protect him, to keep him away from…his father.
Not his dad, because Felix had done nothing to parent or support her child. And he didn’t have to, legally.
Joey didn’t understand him. No amount of paper signed could negate the fact Felix had a son. Adoption for her had never been an option, not when she had two hands, a strong back used to the burden of hard work, and a brain. That and a need to raise and love her boy.
On the drive home, she realized that, from a distance, Felix looked exactly the same. Oh, he had a bit more maturity, but he still looked like the most popular kid on campus. Same light-blond hair, cut short and styled to within an inch of its life. No doubt the same blue eyes and killer grin. She’d been too far away to see his face clearly but close enough to know he was Felix.
Hadn’t she said with her luck she’d run into him on the street one day? Only she hadn’t counted on having Brandon by
her side when it happened.
Too tired to deal with the worry that would no doubt hit her harder later, she yawned and finished the drive home. Once there, she told Brandon she was going to take a nap on Grandma’s couch, leaving him to play in her parents’ house or watch TV. His choice.
Two hours later, waking from a sound sleep, she saw her phone on the coffee table and the television on low. Brandon must have been watching cartoons, but she didn’t see him.
He walked out of the kitchen carrying a monstrous bowl of ice cream. When he saw her, he froze.
She gave a defeated laugh. “Bring another spoon.”
He brightened and returned with a second spoon, then sat next to her. As they watched The Amazing World of Gumball and ate vanilla ice cream smothered in chocolate sauce, the world seemed to right itself.
“I’m glad you had fun last night.”
“Yeah. Mr. Mike is really nice, and Del is too.”
“Not Ms. Del?”
“Well, I tried calling them Mr. and Mrs. McCauley, but Del kept asking why I wanted to talk to Colin’s grandparents. Then Mike said I could call him Mr. Mike. Del laughed at that a lot. But when I called her Ms. Del, she didn’t think it was so funny. Mr. Mike did though.”
“I see.”
“It was so fun, Mom. We played games and got popcorn. The pizza was really good, and we had to eat salad too, which I liked. But Colin made faces and did a fake throw-up. It was so good! He even spilled out chewed-up food to make it look real! We practiced it later in his room. And mine came in second place.”
“Oh, er, interesting. So did he fool his parents?”
“Del, but not Mr. Mike. He just rolled his eyes and made Colin more salad.”
“Nice.”
Brandon chuckled. “He’s pretty patient.” Her eight-year-old-going-on-forty often displayed the maturity of a boy twice his age. “Colin has a lot of energy.”
“I know Colin’s only seven, but it seems like you and Todd had a good time. Would you like to go over again sometime if he asks?” She would like to have had her son ask Colin over for a reciprocal sleepover, but where would they stay? In their living room above the garage? In the shared bedroom she and Brandon used?
Just one more reason to find a new place to live.
“Hey, Brandon, can you go get me my laptop?”
“Sure.”
He returned soon after. She shoved the rest of the ice cream his way. He gobbled it down and watched more cartoons while she went online searching for affordable housing. Something in a decent-enough area near Brandon’s school but not so expensive it would break her.
Her raise only went so far, but having to pay rent for years had taught her how to budget and live frugally. Andrew had had a point, she granted. Because of him and his strict rules, she had a head on her shoulders when it came to managing her money.
After finding a few apartments that might prove promising, nothing huge but with potential, she did laundry and some house chores and figured out what she and Brandon would have for dinner. It was nice to cook in a real kitchen with a stove, not just a tiny microwave and cooktop burner. But Joey used her own food, not soaking off Mom and Dad.
Her mother and father had been so strict after Brandon’s birth. Not the happier, mellowed-out grandparents they were today. A lot of blame, disappointment, and continued reminders that she’d better not depend on them to get her out of the mess she’d gotten herself into.
God, she’d had sex one time. She’d have thought the world ended. But for Andrew and Amy Reeves, it had. Their only child, the daughter they doted on and used as a yardstick to measure their own successes, apparently, had failed them.
After years of her working herself into an exhausted sleep every day, her parents had finally eased off. Her mother now adored Brandon. Her father loved him as well, though there were always conditions attached to that affection—as she well knew.
Brandon was well-behaved, polite, and kind. Because she’d raised him that way. And yes, it galled her that she’d had to rely on her parents for financial support with the basic necessities—food and clothes and a house—but for God’s sake, she’d been all of fifteen when she’d gotten pregnant.
No stranger to diligence, she’d done her best. Five years ago, Joey had mostly become independent. She still used her mother to babysit, and she still paid a small amount in rent, living in her parents’ rental unit, but she bought her own groceries and paid her own bills otherwise.
She’d had lean years to get to where she was now. The reason she never went out? She didn’t have many trendy clothes, only what she had for work. And she never had the money to spend on frivolities, saving each penny in hopes of one day escaping this place.
“You make the best hot dogs, Mom.” Brandon munched with enthusiasm.
“That’s me, the hot dog queen,” she said drily. Hot dogs, macaroni and cheese, and baked beans. The meal of champions. It would be good for a few days, and she could add salad or other veggies to it throughout the week to keep the meal fresh. One thing she’d taught her son—thou shalt not waste.
After they ate, she locked up the house and took Brandon back up to their unit. She tucked him in and read him a story, pleased he still let her. Then she closed the bedroom door and went back to the laptop, searching for a new place to live. But as she looked online, she couldn’t help thinking about Lou and his charming home in Rainier Valley.
About his charming bed in that charming home. About his wide smile, big hands, and charming kisses…
Joey sighed, felt the goofy grin stretching her mouth, and didn’t care. For once she’d taken care of herself, and it felt wonderful. She and Lou hadn’t promised each other anything but a good time. They’d been responsible, hurting no one.
I want to do it again.
Sex with a man she liked? A man she’d easily call a friend?
She texted Becky, arranging for a favor in the form of a sitter for later in the week, and then texted Lou, who’d been surprisingly quiet. She had a moment to reconsider after she’d sent him the text, but he answered right away.
Yes! Thursday night. My place. First, gin rummy. Second, dinner. Third, you, me, and a blindfold.
She laughed, texted back a few enthusiastic emojis, then went back to house hunting. All the rest of her worries could wait. She had a hot date with an even hotter man, her son was happy, and life was good. She’d take what she could get before the wind changed.
* * *
Lou spent a pleasant week at work. The guys at Webster’s razzed him for being so cheerful and smiling. Though he normally enjoyed work, he knew he had Joey to thank for putting a big-ass grin on his face. He hadn’t even been bothered when Del laughed at him, proclaiming him a man in love, or when Foley stuck him with Blue Altima’s evil cousin, Demon-Red F-150.
He just worked with a smile, singing along to the radio.
“I know you’re normally a decent guy to work with, but this is taking it too far,” Johnny said Wednesday morning, standing over Lou, a line wrench in hand. “Lara told me she saw you and Heller at Ray’s the other night hanging out and laughing together. Laughing with Heller?”
“I was laughing at him, actually. Because Rena still won’t give him the time of day. And you know, he’s not a bad guy. He just looks tough.” Johnny just stared at him. “Okay, he can be an asshole, and he has hands like bricks. I wouldn’t want to get into a fight with the guy. But he runs a decent shop and treats his people right.”
“Rena dogging the guy? Oh, that’s okay then.” Johnny nodded, having heard what he needed, apparently. “So you and the flower chick, huh?”
Lou groaned. “Why is it a guy is in a good mood, and everyone associates that with whoever he’s dating?”
“Maybe because you’re normally a prick with a smart mouth who likes to insult us in two languages,” Foley answered, the a
ss, “and lately you’re all smiles and shit.”
Sam dragged himself out from under a Nissan and raised a greased brow. “Yeah, and you gave me tons of crap about Ivy. You get what you give, man. It’s called karma.”
“One can only hope. I live a clean life.” Lou had been working out at the gym on those nights he hadn’t spent at Heller’s shop sanding down the Vette. He ate a balanced diet, not touching sugars and bad carbs. And he treated his family right. He figured he was owed a woman like Joey Reeves.
Man, she’d been fine. If he was a little bothered they couldn’t see more of each other right away due to her insane schedule—and his, truth be told—he knew it to be a good thing. The chemistry between them had him half-convinced he was falling for her. His appetite suffered, forcing him to consume energy bars to make up the needed calories. And he got jittery at a simple text from the woman. All signs he needed to proceed with caution, so good for her for not rushing things.
Except he wanted to be with her all the fucking time. Like, right now.
“What’s with the frown, Cortez?” Foley asked, a little too innocently. “Afraid she’s gonna dump you already?” He glanced at Lou’s phone vibrating on his workbench.
Lou swore under his breath, ignored the guys, and noted a message from his mother. “For your information, Foley, Mama wants to know what I want for dinner tonight.”
Activity in the garage ceased, all eyes on Lou.
“She wants to know if she should make enough for the guys at the garage. I wonder if she means Heller or you clowns?”
Sam shrugged. “Remember, I was being nice. Honest.”
“Nice?”
Even Foley blinked at that.
Sam sighed. “Well, for me. I didn’t grind you about her. Tell your mom to make those corn cake thingies.”
“Her sweet corn cakes?” Johnny looked hopeful. “Oh, hey, Lou.” He gave a fake laugh. “You know I was just kidding, right?”
“You guys are so easy.” Lou snorted. “And you,” he said, pointing at Foley. “No extra tamales for you.”
“That’s just mean.”