God, I love the way his hands look on my body.
“I want to watch you play with yourself,” he says on a growl. “I want you to spread your pussy and shove fingers inside that pretty pink heat. Then I want to pull you onto my cock and watch you fuck me.”
“Tell me more,” I beg as he bends his head and peppers my neck with the most sensual kisses.
“Get my full of your cunt, going to take your mouth.”
“Yes,” I pant.
“You like when I fuck your mouth, don’t you?”
“God, yes,” I whimper.
He pulls away from me, sits on his haunches and removes his shirt. At the sight of his tattooed chest, I groan. Sweat beads on my forehead as I watch him remove the rest of his clothes and I wonder how I went without this for so long.
Not just the act.
But the man performing it.
He strokes his cock, wiping the come from the tip before placing one knee on the bed and then the other. Rolling over, I rise onto my knees, mocking his position. My arms wind around his neck and I pull him closer. His mouth crashes against mine and his tongue collides with me. Our hands roam with an urgency to touch every inch. Breaking away from one another, he lays down on the bed and curls his finger, beckoning me.
“Get on,” he commands.
“Not yet,” I say shaking my head. “It’s my turn.”
Sliding my body down his, I position myself between his legs and fist his cock, drawing the engorged head between my lips. I lick the come from the tip before sliding my tongue down the underside of his shaft. Bas pushes his fingers through my hair and cups the back of my head. Holding me steady, he lifts his hips and slides deep into my mouth. The head of his fat cock touches the back of my throat and I gag. Closing my mouth tightly, I brace my hands on his thighs and hold on as he fucks my mouth.
“That’s a girl,” he hisses.
Long even strokes.
In and out.
Inch by inch.
My mouth struggles to keep up as my eyes water. His salty release drips down my throat and I know he’s about to blow. Pulling my mouth off him, I wipe my eyes and climb on top of him, position my drenched pussy over his cock. Gripping my hips, he pulls me down and fills me to the hilt. Trying to catch my breath, I balance myself over him and roll my hips, getting used to the feel of us.
“Fuck me, baby,” he groans, wrapping his arms around my waist. Lifting his head off the pillow he takes one tit into his mouth and I start to move.
Up and down.
Fast first then slow…so incredibly slow.
I circle my hips and then I quicken the pace again.
My tits bounce.
His fingers squeeze my thighs and I let go.
I lose myself to the ecstasy…to the pleasure.
I hear my name fly past his lips and a second later he’s there with me.
Right where we both belong.
Where we’ve always belonged.
Collapsing on top of him, my heart pounds against his.
Two hearts.
One beat.
A new beginning.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Nothing will scare the shit out of a man more than waking up and feeling a pair of eyes drilling a hole in the side of his head. Especially, when you’ve been trying your hardest to sleep with one eye open because there’s a mark out for your girl and her kid.
Bolting up, I rub the sleep from my eyes and stare back at Ryder.
“Buddy, what are you doing?”
Crossing his little arms against his chest, he glances next to me at his sleeping mother. Thank fucking Christ she’s covered. The last thing I need to explain is why his mother is naked in the bed with me, his uncle.
How’s that for a family tree?
“Why are you in my mom’s bed?”
Dragging the sheet up to my waist with one hand, I reach behind me and cup the back of my neck with the other.
“Well, that’s actually a funny story…”
It’s not funny at all.
Not even a little bit.
But telling Ryder his mother and I fucked like rabbits after she rubbed her pussy all over me and woke me up, really isn’t an option.
“How about I tell you over breakfast?” I suggest.
“Pancakes?”
I have no fucking idea how to make pancakes.
“How’s about a bowl of cereal?”
“Okay,” he says, uncrossing his arms. He doesn’t move and suddenly, I’m intimidated by the little boy wearing SpongeBob pajamas and a scowl on his face. When did that happen?
The day you decided you wanted to be enough of a man to make him a better one.
“All right then,” I say offering him a smile as I look towards the door. “Why don’t you get a head start?”
I’ll buy you a puppy…hell, I’ll buy you the whole damn litter if you just let me grab my shorts, kid.
Debating, he glances at his mom again.
“Should we wake mommy?”
“Fuck, no…eh, I mean….” my words trail as I swipe a hand over my face. “Let’s let her sleep.”
“Okay, we can surprise her with breakfast in bed.”
Yeah, sure, if you want to get a peep show.
“Sounds like a plan.”
He takes another minute before he finally exits the room. I wait until I hear his footsteps on the stairs before, I lose the sheet and dig a pair of sweats out of one of my six bags of clothes. As luck would have it the day I decide to move my shit in here, Ryder catches me in bed with his mom the next morning. I’m not sure how I’m going to explain this one. Mac and I haven’t talked about telling Ryder about us and we’ve been cautious around him. I’m not sure why. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are they.
Making my way to the door, I pause and look back at Mac.
A man can get used to that.
He can die happy.
“Uncle Bas!”
Pulling the door closed behind me, I head downstairs and enter the kitchen to find Ryder trying to clean spilled milk off the floor.
“What happened?”
“I’m sorry!”
Lifting his head, he meets my eyes and I can tell he’s struggling to hold back tears. That fucking does something to me. It breaks my heart is what it does.
“It was an accident,” he cries. He tears his eyes away from me and I watch his hands fumble as he pulls the paper towels off the roll.
“Ryder,” I rasp, crouching down beside him. Gently, I take the towels from his hand and place a finger under his chin, forcing his eyes back to mine. “It’s okay.”
“You’re not mad?”
“No,” I say hoarsely. “It’s just spilled milk, Ryder,” I add as I wipe his tears with my thumbs.
“My dad would’ve been mad.”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I control the anger simmering in my veins.
“I’m not him, Ryder,” I say with conviction. “You never have to be afraid of me.” His blue eyes search mine and I pray he’s inherited his mother’s knack for reading me because they’re saying all the things I don’t know how to.
I love you.
I’ll jump off a cliff for you.
Run through fire for you.
I’ll kill for you.
Bleed and die for you.
Swallowing, I smooth down his hair and lean forward, kissing the top of his head.
“Let’s get this cleaned up and get started on making you and your mom breakfast.”
“We don’t have that much milk,” he says.
How fucking hard can it be to make pancakes?
“I thought you wanted pancakes,” I reply with a wink. His eyes light up and the smile he gives me is worth every bit of heartache that brought him into this world. I get it now. I understand what Mac meant when she said he was too precious to be labeled anything less than a blessing.
“Uncle Bas, I know you said I don’t have to be afraid of you but…”
“Yo
u don’t,” I assure him. “I would never hurt you. Never.”
“Does that mean you won’t hurt my mom either?”
Jesus.
It might not be my place, but I don’t give a fuck. It’s time Ryder, and I had a talk.
Man to little man.
Rising to my feet, I hold out my hand for him.
“C ’mere,” I tell him.
He places his little hand in mine and I pull him to his feet before leading him to the kitchen table. Sitting across from one another, we stare at each other. I’m not sure if he’s looking at me with curiosity or if he’s sizing me up trying to decide if I’m the guy good enough for his mom.
“Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking,” I suggest. “And remember, anything you ask me won’t make me angry.”
“Okay,” he says. “I don’t want anyone to hurt my mom. She smiles a lot and I like it.”
“She has a great smile,” I agree.
He nods.
“The best,” he whispers. Then as if a light bulb has gone off in his head, he looks at me with wide eyes. “If I promise not to be afraid will you promise not to take her smile away?”
“Ryder, I want you to pay close attention to what I’m going to tell you, can you do that for me?” I ask him as I lean over the table and level my eyes to his.
“I’ll try my hardest.”
“Fair enough,” I say, taking a deep breath. “Ain’t no one in this world going to take your mom’s smile away ever again nor will anyone hurt either of you. As long as I’m alive, you and your mom will always be safe and if I have a say in the matter, the both of you will keep sharing your smiles with me.”
“Does that mean you love her?”
“I’ve loved your mom for a really long time. What it means is I finally get a chance to prove to her and to you just how much I love you both.”
I let my words sink in for a minute before continuing.
“When a man loves a woman, he isn’t afraid of expressing it and his actions sometimes speak louder than his words. One day you’re going to be a man and you’re going to find a girl who knocks you off your feet. You won’t see her coming, you’ll ask yourself why she chose you and you’ll pray you never lose her. It’ll be the most exciting time of your life and the scariest too. You might make mistakes, but they’ll never be intentional because you’re going to think back to this conversation and remember how you wanted me to treat your mom.”
“I want you to be nice to her,” he whispers.
“I want you to be humble and kind,” I counter.
“Take her nice places,” he continues.
“Always hold the door for her,” I say.
“Tell her it’s going to be okay when she’s sad,” he adds.
“Do your best to never make her sad,” I counter.
“Make her smile,” he whispers.
“Cherish every smile she gives you,” I reply.
“Love her,” he pleads.
“Love her,” I agree.
A beat of silences passes between us before I hold out my hand.
“A man’s handshake is his word. It’s his promise,” I explain, tipping my chin to my hand, urging him to take it. Lifting his hand, he slides it into mine and he gives it a firm shake, sealing our promise to one another.
For him to grow up and be a good man.
For me to set the example by loving his mother.
Chapter Twenty-eight
The sound of the smoke alarm wakes me and forces me out of bed in a hurry. Scrambling to find my clothes, I pull on a pair of shorts and Bas’ t-shirt he tossed on the floor last night before darting into Ryder’s room. Worried that he tried making breakfast himself, I make my way down the stairs. Before I reach the kitchen, I hear Ryder’s laugh and I breathe a sigh of relief. Calmer, I follow the joyful sound and stop in my tracks when I see Bas, standing on a chair in nothing but a pair of low riding sweatpants, fanning the smoke detector with a dishtowel.
“How do you shut this fucking thing off?”
Holding his belly, Ryder doubles over and laughs at Bas. The ringing stops and his laughter sounds even more amazing without the alarm going off. Stepping off the chair, Bas tosses the dishtowel onto the counter and wraps an arm around Ryder.
“Well, at least we know I can’t cook pancakes to save my life,” he says, lifting a charred flapjack from a plate. “Thank God for IHop.”
“Maybe we should let mom do the cooking,” Ryder suggests.
“Yeah, maybe we should,” Bas agrees.
“What’s all this?” I ask, entering the kitchen. Both pairs of blue eyes find me and my two guys smile sheepishly.
“Uncle Bas tried to make everyone breakfast,” Ryder explains.
“Clearly, tried is the operative word in that sentence,” Bas says, crossing the space between us. Wrapping his arm around my waist, he surprises me by pulling my chest against his. I glance over his shoulder and find Ryder staring at us intently. Smiling at Ryder, I lean into Bas and whisper against his ear.
“Ryder’s watching us.”
“That so?” Bas says, squeezing my hip. “Ryder?”
“Yeah?”
“You mind if I kiss your mom?”
“Bas.”
“Nope,” Ryder says, causing me to look at him again. He smiles at me and does his best to wink but blinks instead. Before I can say a word, Bas brings his hands to my face and plants a smacking kiss on my lips. I can’t help but smile at his playfulness and when he pecks my lips repeatedly I hear Ryder giggle. After a few more pecks he breaks away and winks at me.
“We had a little visitor this morning,” Bas explains, eyeing my son. I can only imagine the expression on my face as Bas laughs. “It’s all good, baby. Ryder and I talked, and he laid down some ground rules but, he gave me the green light to take good care of his mom. Isn’t that right, buddy?”
“Yep,” Ryder exclaims giving me two thumbs up.
Tilting my head back, I glance up at Bas and he grins at me. I was never much of a fan of fairytales. To be honest, I thought they were nothing but a bunch of bullshit. Lies little girls believed. I remember thinking if I ever had a daughter, I would write my own fairytale to read to her at bedtime. One that wasn’t full of false pretenses. When Ryder was born, I was happy he was a boy because I didn’t have to come up with some story. I was jaded and thought happy endings didn’t exist in our world.
Now, I want a daughter.
I want to read her my fairytale.
It won’t be a story full of fluff. The heroine won’t be a princess, but she’ll be a strong character. A girl who got lost in this great big world but never forgot who she used to be. You see, that part of her lived on in her caged soul and waited patiently for the hero of the story to come and set her free. It’s a story about a girl who grew into a woman and sometimes dreamed of a better life and the boy who became the man that made her all her dreams come true. Neither of them was perfect, but together they were, and they lived happily ever after.
“Mac?”
“I love you,” I blurt, blinking away my tears.
Reaching around me, he cups the back of my neck and leans his forehead against mine.
“Waited a long time to hear those words, baby,” he murmurs. “They’re just as sweet as they were the first time you said them,” he says as he squeezes my neck. “You know I love you too.”
I do.
I see it.
Reaching up on my tip toes, I lean in to give him a kiss but his phone rings interrupting the moment. He’s been staring at that thing for days, willing it to ring. When I asked him who he was waiting on, he told me it was Jack and I knew that meant this thing with the cartel was coming to a head and it was happening soon.
Pulling back, he releases me and moves to the counter to grab his phone. Accepting the call, he brings it to his ear and excuses himself. Alone with my son, I hug him and push his hair away from his precious face. Realizing he didn’t eat breakfast yet, I start to pull the ing
redients from the fridge to make us an omelet. As I finish beating the eggs, Bas enters the room fully dressed and announces he has to leave. His eyes gleam with something I can’t quite place. Doing my best to ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach, I kiss him goodbye and tell him to be careful.
He tells me Leo is outside and if I need anything don’t hesitate to call on him.
Planting a kiss on Ryder’s head and another on my lips, he’s out the door. As I start to plate the eggs for me and Ryder, the doorbell rings.
Not expecting anyone, I think it’s Bas and figure he forgot his keys or something. Ryder digs into his food and I make my way to the front door. Pulling it open, I start talking.
“What did you—”
The sentence trails off and the smile falls from my lips as Milly turns around and meets my gaze.
“Well, look at you,” she sneers, taking in my attire. “You sure didn’t waste any time, did you?”
“What are you doing here, Milly?”
“What do you think I’m doing here?” she fires back. Placing one hand on her hip, she lifts her sunglasses on top of her head and smiles cheekily at me. “I’ve come to take you and Ryder back to Kentucky,” she says pointedly as she pushes past me and enters the house. Leo runs up the front steps and juts a finger over my shoulder at Milly.
“You want me to get rid of her?”
That’s exactly what I want but I know better. No one simply gets rid of Milly. If you want her gone, you have to play her game and you have to play it better than her.
“I’d like to see you try, stud,” she says, sashaying her hips as she moves to stand beside me in the doorway. “You better have an army with you,” she warns, crossing her arms under her breasts as she looks out into the sea of chrome parked out front. Of course, Milly brought enforcements, the bitch don’t mess around.
Keeping his eyes on me, Leo ignores Milly and her entourage.
“The old dude on the bike says this broad is Bas’ mother, that true?”
“Twenty-six hours of labor,” Milly answers. “Kid came out the size of Thanksgiving Turkey.”
Leo cringes inwardly and I sigh.
“Yeah, she is. It’s okay Leo,” I assure him. “You might want to call your guy though,” I mutter. “I’m going to need a carton of cigarettes and a fifth of vodka.”
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