by Emilia Finn
“Mom, did you know Maddi’s last name was Tosky?”
She nods. “I read the contracts.”
“Do you know who her grandpa is?”
Again, she nods. “He struck out with Grandma back in the day. He’s not still mad about that, is he?”
“I think he is,” I chuckle. “Anyway, I just thought I’d let you know that I like Maddi.”
“That’s nice, baby. I like her too.”
“No.” I stare right into her blue eyes and press, “I like her with my heart. I’m thinking of keeping her.”
“Oh?” Her eyes widen as she looks between us.
“Please, Bry.” Maddi begs in a desperate whisper. “Please stop.”
“I mean…” Mom nods. “That’s cool. Bring her to dinner soon. I wanna get to know her outside of business meetings. Maddi?” Mom takes a step forward and waits for Maddi’s eyes. “Welcome to the family, sweetheart. When you get a moment, come and talk to me about your haircare regime.” She points at her blonde locks. “I’d die for mine to be as smooth as yours.”
“Um…”
“Don’t panic.” Mom’s hand kind of reaches out, as though they’re two feet apart, and not fifty or so. “You’ll adjust soon enough. The Kincaid men are rarely wrong about this stuff. You should come to breakfast.”
“We ate with Smalls and Bean,” I answer. “But soon. I’ll bring her home soon.”
“Okay.”
Mom flashes a beautiful smile and steps back into Dad’s arms when he wraps them around her stomach. He presses his palm to her ribs, rests his chin on her shoulder, and grins.
“I love you, baby.”
“Love you too, Mommy. We’ll come out to play later.”
I take Maddi’s hand and lead her back toward the front door. “Wave to your admirers,” I tell her when I spot Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Iz on their porch. Uncle Aiden and Aunt Tina on theirs. Uncle Jack holds a baby on the porch closest to the gates. Then on the porch opposite them, my sister stands with Lyss holding her hand.
She smiles for me, but it’s not a silly smile. It’s pure love.
I lift my free hand – pointer finger, little finger, and thumb all pointing up – and tell both of them what’s in my heart. I love them. I would die for them. And now that Maddi’s here, I add her to my list of people I need to protect for the rest of my life.
Lyss wraps an arm around Brooke’s hips and snuggles in close. But she lifts her hand and returns her love.
I call out to her, “Uncle is gonna go inside for a bit, baby. But do you wanna come play later?”
She bobs her head and grins.
“Awesome. I’ll come get you when Miss Maddi stops freaking out.
“Come on.” I open my front door and lead her back inside. The moment I close the heavy wooden door, I press her back against it and step into her space so the smell of her delicious shampoo lodges itself in my lungs. “Just like that.”
Her tawny eyes flicker between mine. Clueless. Shocked. “Huh?”
I bring a hand up to touch the underside of her jaw. “That’s how you tell your family that you wanna be with me. I went first, to show you how easy it is. Now it’s your turn.”
“I can’t… it’s not…”
I close the space between us and press my lips to hers to shut her up.
Finally, she does the melting thing. Her arms come up to wrap around my neck, her fingers thread through my hair, and when I slide my arms around her waist, she leans into me, and makes the arch of her back more pronounced.
She’s shy, I think. Scared. But when I slide my tongue over her bottom lip, she opens up with a sigh and accepts me in.
Our hearts pound in sync, heavy, thumping beats that race the other. Her eyes are squeezed so tight that I worry it’s a bad sign, but her arms are tight too, and her weight is completely mine to hold. She pushes up to her toes, but when I stand straight, she comes off the floor and dangles.
Reaching down, I slide my hands under her ass and take her weight, but if I have a moment to worry I’ve gone too far, it’s squished when she wraps her legs around my waist and drags me closer.
I slide my tongue against hers. She tastes like pancakes and cream, and hell, if that ain’t all of my teenage fantasies wrapped up in one mouth, then I don’t know what is.
I keep one arm beneath her ass, but bring the other hand up to thread through her soft hair. Spinning away from the door, I carry her to the living room, to our makeshift bed, and drop down so she straddles my lap and grinds over my cock.
I groan at the contact, but the way she cries out when her clit rubs over me, that’s what sets me on fire.
“This doesn’t have to be so scary.” I drag my lips along her jaw and groan as she grinds. “It can just be me and you for now. Later, we’ll think about all the people on the outside.”
“Is this a trick?” She groans when I nip at her sensitive skin, tugs my hair when I squeeze her hips. “Bryan? Am I a pawn in some elaborate payback scheme to hurt Jackson? Am I as useful to you as Jenna was?”
“No.” I slide my tongue up to her earlobe and nibble, but I take her hand, and bring it down to my heart. “It’s just me and you in this house right now. Just us. Jenna and Jackson and all of the rest of them, they’re not a part of this.”
“Are you going to break my heart?” she whimpers. “Are you going to make me cry?”
I shake my head and slide my hand between our bellies until the tips of my fingers touch her jean’s button. “Swear to Christ, you’re not a pawn to me, Maddi. You’re special. My heart is the one that will bleed if you don’t want what I want.”
“What do you want?” she whines. “What, Bry? A fast fuck?”
I shake my head. “A lifetime of fast fucks. A lifetime of pancake breakfasts, and falling asleep watching movies.” I slip my hand into her jeans, and when she doesn’t stop me, into her panties. I give her to the count of three to make this stop, but when all she does is dive back in to kiss me, I plunge my fingers inside her warmth, and groan at how tight she is.
“Oh fuck!” She throws her head back, and shows off the long, delicate column of her neck, but when I lean forward to taste, my hand gets stuck between us.
“Maddi?”
“Take them off.”
She bounces out of my lap like she’s been electrocuted, whimpers when she loses my fingers, then drops her pants like we’ve done this a million times before. She kicks her shoes off, pushes her jeans down and tosses them to the floor, then she climbs back onto my lap and rests on her knees, despite the Band-Aids I forgot I put on them last night.
“I’m scared,” she whispers as she stares into my eyes. “Please don’t hurt me.”
“You’re… uh…” I look down to her crotch. “Um… new at this?”
She shakes her head, takes my hand, and does what I did to her, placing my hand on her heart. She pleads, “Don’t hurt me.”
“I won’t.”
I slide my hand into her panties and find her wet and waiting. Pushing inside, I moan at how my cock pushes against my pants. Sweatpants are legions better than jeans when my cock wants to explode, so I say my thanks for my forethought.
Except, no jeans means no wallet, and no wallet means no condom.
“Fuck.”
She rides my hand and squeezes me tight, and while she does that, my eyes fling around my living room in search of my wallet.
On the coffee table. Only a few feet away.
Thank god.
“Bryan?” She grabs my face and yanks my eyes back to hers. “Pay attention to me for just a damn minute.”
My laugh comes out on a pained croak. “Trust me, I was thinking about you. Lemme just…” With no other options, I pull my hand from her panties for a second time, and toss her to the couch. Then I dive to the coffee table and sweep up my wallet. “Take your panties off, Maddi.”
I snatch the foil packet out and tear the side off with my teeth, and in my peripherals, Maddi lays on her back and kicks her un
derwear away.
Turns out she doesn’t have ink on her secret areas.
Desperately chuckling, I push the front of my sweats down and draw her eyes to my dick. Resting on her elbows, legs wide open, she studies me, just like I study her. And when I get the condom rolled on, I sit back on my ass and yank her into my lap.
The second she’s on her knees, I pull her head to mine, her lips to mine, and sink into the warmth and steel walls she possesses.
It was always going to be this way; fast and reckless, but certain.
“Oh god,” she whimpers as she lowers over my cock.
She’s tight like a vise, hot like lava. But she’s also perfect, responsive, and the only thing I can focus on in this moment.
When she’s halfway down, and my body threatens to explode, I grab her shoulders and stare into her eyes. For just a second, we stare. Then when she swallows her nerves, I slam her down and let her swallow me up with a cry.
“Fuck!”
Holding her hips, I help her rise to the very tip, then I slam her down again and swallow her cries at what is a sweet pain. Her hair surrounds us, she creates this curtain so that we’re the only two people in here. And for as long as we remain in here, the rest of the world doesn’t matter.
She pushes up to the tip, prepares, and groans when I bring her back down again.
She doesn’t want to slide down. She wants me to control her. She wants me to make it hurt.
“Bry…”
“Mm. Say my name while we do this.” I glide my tongue along her jaw, bite each time I want a taste, and grunt when my bites result in her pussy tightening around me.
I release one of her hips and reach up to massage her tit, but her top is still on, so I release her completely and tear the cotton away. She cries out when her earrings catch. And again when her chin catches, and then her nose. But all I can do is laugh at my lack of finesse.
I toss her shirt away, then come back to see her chest. She wears a black bra similar to – or maybe it’s the same as – the one she took off at the races a week ago. It’s sheer lace, see-through, so I see her nipples through the useless lace, round, peaked, and such a pretty color.
I pull her bra below her tits, prop them up with the lace, then I pull one between my teeth and nibble while she rests her hands on my shoulders and rides.
“You taste so sweet.” I suck her nipple until it peaks and turns rock hard, then I switch and repeat with a groan.
And all the while, she rides me with cries of pleasure.
“Bry.”
“Mm.” I bite her nipple and inhale her scent.
“Bry?”
“Mm?” I lift one breast, mold it in my hand, suck on her nipple like I might die if I stop.
“Bryan!”
I release her tit with a pop and glare with impatience. “What?”
She grins. Takes one hand, and lays it flat over her ass cheek. “Smack me. I like it.”
“Aw fuck.” My cock throbs and grows, my balls threaten to blow. So I toss her off my lap with rough hands, turn her to her hands and knees without apology when she cries out, then I move to my knees and impale her in one smooth move.
She screams into the couch cushions, her hair slides to the side and reveals more ink I didn’t see last night, but then she reaches back and puts my hand back on her ass.
So now I ride her. I wind my arm back with delicious anticipation, then I swing down and smack her till her ass turns red, and her scream vibrates against the cushions. Her pussy clenches tight around me, drawing me closer and closer to the edge. My thighs burn, and my toes tingle, but I slam into her time and time again, shoving her further along the couch with each move. When she’s too far away, I yank her back and push in so deep that her sounds of pleasure turn to pain.
“Fuck!” she snaps. “Shit.” And yet, she pushes back to keep me in when I pull away. She grinds against me, swallows me up, and when I smack her again, she merely sobs and accepts what I give her.
She’s my fuckdoll. Incapable of doing anything but bracing her body as she hugs a cushion and absorbs my every blow.
“You’re so amazing,” I chant, grunt, breathe, try not to blow. “Fuck, Maddi. You’re so perfect.”
“I’m going to go,” she whimpers. “I’m… shit…”
Her ass is warm beneath my hands, her skin marked and raw. But between that, her asshole teases. Puckered and pretty, it presents itself. So I drop a line of spit between her ass cheeks, bring my thumb up to spread it around, and when I touch, she freezes up.
I keep moving. I keep impaling her. Then I slide my thumb inside and send her straight over the ledge of insanity.
Her pussy clenches me so tight that I can’t move. Her ass squeezes. But still, she comes so hard that it drips onto my couch and, following the depression my knees make in the cushion, soaks into my sweats.
“Bry.” My name on her lips is merely a whimper, a powerless sob as she’s a slave to her body and the orgasm that tears through her system.
On the second wave, I pull out of her vise-like grip, push back in once more, and throw my head back on a roar when my orgasm spills over and fills the condom with explosive power.
Left reeling, weak, and dizzy, I collapse against her back and close my eyes. My cock twitches, and each time she pulses around me, I come just a little more. Beneath me, she struggles for breath, turns her face so she doesn’t smother herself, and blows hair out of her face when it annoys her.
But other than that, she merely… rests. Shocked, speechless, and unable to move, she lays beneath me, and laboriously drags air into her squished lungs.
“That’s…” She gulps. “That was counterproductive to my arguments earlier.”
Laughing, I pull out without warning her, sigh when she cries out at the loss, then I drop against the back of the couch and pull her into my little spoon so I can bury my face in her hair. “Funny you say that, because I feel like that was the perfect argument. I think I proved my point.”
“You’re an ass.”
I only shrug and close my eyes. “You’re mine now. No take-backs.”
Maddi
Traitor
“I’m wearing the same clothes I was wearing yesterday!” I barely restrain myself from scratching and biting as Bry drags me out his door at seven that evening. “Bryan! Stop. I can’t go to your mom’s house for dinner wearing the same clothes from yesterday!”
“Sure you can.” He slingshots me out the front door and onto the porch. And before I can spin back, he throws an arm over my shoulder and pulls me in tight. “No one here saw you yesterday, so they have no clue they’re old clothes. Plus, I washed and dried them for you, so really, why are you whining?”
“Because you’re an asshole.” I fight him all the way down the steps and onto his lawn. “Bryan, I’m begging you. Stop it.”
“Sorry.” He only shakes his head and smirks. “My mom invited us to dinner. It would be rude to decline.”
“She invited you to dinner!”
“Nuh uh.” He swings his head and only laughs when I continue to resist. “You heard her. She wants to talk hair.” He leans in and takes a deep whiff of mine. “You smell like me today, and not you. But tell me what soap you use, and I’ll buy some for my bathroom.”
“You are insane!”
“No, Turdsky. I’m…” He considers. “Confident. And tenacious.” Finally, he stops in the narrow street, and spins so he can cup my cheeks. “Come to dinner, Maddi. It’s not as scary as it seems. I promise.”
“That’s easy for you to say. That’s your family in there.”
He only shrugs. “Invite me to dinner at your house. I’ll bring wine.”
“I can’t invite you for dinner at my house!” I hiss. “You’re not listening to me, Bryan.”
He presses a long kiss to my lips, silences me with my kryptonite. Then he pulls back and studies my eyes. “I’m listening. I just don’t agree. My family already knows who you are, they’ve accepted you. Just b
ecause your family are a bunch of jerks doesn’t mean we have to suffer.”
“Says the guy whose family won’t judge him for bringing me home.”
“I can’t help it that your family is judgmental, Maddi. It isn’t my fault. You’re asking me to be responsible for their bitching and bad attitudes.”
“No.” I am. And worse; I’m being a coward. “I’m just asking you to be considerate of the fact this is a sensitive situation. This doesn’t feel like a big deal to you, but it’s huge for me. I grew up hating your family. I didn’t know any different. But here you are, proving that what I know is a lie. And maybe I see it, maybe I see it was all lies, but I can’t just go back to my home and tell them that.”
“Why not?”
He’s genuinely asking.
“Because! Because they choose to feel that way. They’re not going to change their minds simply because I tell them to.”
“What, then?” He bends a little lower and peers into my eyes. “What’s gonna happen if you go home and tell them where you’ve been? Legitimate question. What will happen? You’re too old to be grounded, Madilyn.”
“They’ll disapprove,” I whisper. “They’ll… In your family, if someone annoys someone, what happens?”
“We hit them,” he answers without pause. “We toss them into the yard, then we hit them until they ask us to stop.”
“I– You– You’re not joking?”
He chuckles. “It’s pretty much fact. Though not a blanket rule. Sometimes we fight inside too, but Mom tends to get Hulk-mad if we break shit.”
I shake my head, and I swear, tears nearly spill over. “In my family, when someone gets mad, we get the disappointed look. The disapproving glare. The ‘You know better, Madilyn’, and the ‘If you can’t be trusted to honor your family the way we expect, then you will no longer be part of the family.’”
That makes him snap to attention. His chocolate eyes search mine. “They threaten to disown you? Are you fuckin’ serious?”
“I mean, they don’t use that word. But they make sure I know what’s expected of me. They don’t call us family members, but family representatives. We must never embarrass our family, or else.”