“Sleep, Vida,” he commands as if he isn’t pouting at me.
“What are you, two years old? Last time I checked, you were thirty-two,” I say harshly. “Tantrums like a toddler aren’t your style.”
“I’ve gotta work tomorrow, Jenna. I’ve got kids to feed,” he barks at me. “Sleep.”
Just like with my children, I stop myself from arguing because it will get us nowhere. Instead, I lie in his arms and listen to the steady beat of his heart. Now I’m the one pouting to myself for all the things I want to say yet don’t.
When did we lose communication?
It’s doesn’t matter. As with everything else over the years, I will ride it out. Tomorrow is a new day.
Stuck in a Rut
Waking to her dark hair spread across my tan chest used to be my every dream come true. Night after night, Jenna would pass out over me after we had a passion-filled time, leaving her crashing.
I blow out a frustrated breath. When did it all get lost?
Once upon a time, I would have woken up to her hair over my stomach as her mouth sucked me deep and hard. It was more than the physical. When did we become so disconnected? With one look, she could read me. In the last year, when have I had her attention long enough to even give her any kind of look?
I run my hand through her hair, and she stirs then looks up at me with sleepy eyes, tired eyes. The look makes my chest ache. When was the last time she got a break?
“Buenos días, hermosa,” I whisper before kissing the top of her head.
She laughs. “I’m not very beautiful right now.”
“Siempre.”
“You are biased, mi amor.” She looks to the clock. “The alarm is about to go off.”
“Si.” I continue to stroke her hair while she rests on me. “A new day, Vida,” I say, hoping she can read between the lines and know that yesterday is behind us.
“Mami!” Mariella yells from outside the door.
The muffled sound of RJ beside her can be heard before he yells out, “Mami, Papi, it wasn’t me!”
So much for a few moments in bed with my wife.
I laugh at my son. That is a telltale answer that he, indeed, did something he wasn’t supposed to.
“Mami! Mommmmmm!” Mariella whines as I hear the doorknob turn.
Vida moves to get up, but I hold her to me. “No,” I whisper as two of our three children come to stand at the end of our bed, shoving each other.
“Momma is resting. Go on now and sort your shit yourselves.”
“Ruby, language,” Jenna sighs against me. “Hands to yourselves, hijos!”
“Go shower. I’ll make them breakfast.”
Surprise shows on her face at my offer. When was the last time I did this for her? The answer saddens me: never.
Reaching down, I squeeze her ass cheek before sliding out from under her so I can handle our children and give her some time to herself.
Scooping up my daughter, I carry her out of our room as I tousle my son’s hair. With one last look over my shoulder, I am given the gift of my wife, my life, smiling at me as she lies back against my pillow in satisfaction.
Making my way to the kitchen, I set my daughter down as I look at the space in front of me.
“Maritza,” I call out to get her to join us. If I’m going to do this, I need to knock it all out at once.
RJ sits down at his chair in our eat-in kitchen area. “Pancakes!”
“French toast!” Mariella immediately fires back.
“Chorizo and eggs,” Maritza pipes in her request.
I say nothing, opening one cabinet after the next. Surely, we have to have it.
I smile, finding what I’m looking for, and pull three bowls down on the countertop.
“Fruit Loops,” I inform them as I add milk to the cereal bowls and serve my kids. The looks on their faces have me fighting not to laugh. “I can’t burn this,” I tell them honestly.
“Mami likes for us to have a hot breakfast,” Maritza shares with me, something I already know, but I don’t cook. Normally, I don’t go in her kitchen except to grab a drink or to sit down to eat. There’s no way am I touching her stove. That would be the equivalent of her touching my bike. Hell no.
“Well, Papi made breakfast, so be happy he didn’t try to cook,” RJ retorts.
I don’t know if I want to laugh or tell him to shut up.
Kids.
“He got more than me,” Mariella whines.
“I’m a growing boy,” RJ defends, and I immediately want to go to work. Why must they argue over everything?
Making myself a bowl of the sugary circles, I watch my children, thinking as infants, they were life looking back at us: helpless, dependent, small, and ours to care for. As they grow, they have become little people with attitudes and opinions.
“Do you fight about everything?” I ask on a sigh as I lean against the counter and take a bite of my own cereal.
“Yes! It’s his fault,” Maritza replies, pointing to her brother.
“No,” Mariella tries to answer, thinking she may be in trouble.
“They’re girls; they don’t get man stuff and want to argue all the time, Papi,” RJ explains.
Shaking my head, I say nothing.
“Go get dressed for school,” Jenna says, coming in wearing jeans and a T-shirt with her wet hair braided for work. She wraps her arm around my waist as our children each dump their bowls in the sink before going off to get ready. She looks into my bowl and laughs.
“A man’s gotta eat.” I scoop up another spoonful. “I’m just thankful we had cereal at all in the house. No way was I making pancakes or cooking anything involving eggs.”
“You could have done it.” She rolls up on her tiptoes and kisses my jawline softly. “I believe in you.”
That right there … That is everything. She has always believed in me. I lose sight of that sometimes, and I shouldn’t.
How does one’s day go from exceptionally awesome to hell in a hand-basket so quickly?
First, before I even get to work, my phone rings with a call from Julio.
“Hola,” I greet.
“Mi hermana,” he says happily, brightening my day. “I’m calling because I am sending money to you this month. You can pick up the wire transfer today.”
“Julio, why are you sending us money?” I question, completely stunned.
“I’ve got a good thing going, so I don’t need your money anymore, and I’m doing well enough to send some back to my baby sister.”
I don’t want to upset him when he is obviously proud of being on his own two feet, but I can’t help the nagging feeling that hits me.
Julio has a way of finding trouble.
“Julio—”
“It’s good, Jenna. Trust me,” he begs.
I don’t have the time or energy to argue or question him further right now since I need to get to work. I will just take the gift at face value and save it in case Julio has a rough spot later.
“Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
He laughs, and then we disconnect. After all, it’s early for him in Mexico, and I have a job to get to.
Though the call should have been a bonus to my day, it leaves me worried throughout.
Next, I get rude costumers all day.
“Sir, I understand your situation; believe me, I do. The job market is tough. If you cannot afford your storage, then you had the option of emptying the contents months ago before you got behind. Now you need to pay your balance within ten days, or we will have to sell your contents at our next auction.”
“Damn Mexican, coming to my country and robbing me of jobs and now my stuff,” Mr. Falcon barks into the phone at me.
I swallow the lump in my throat. I’m an American citizen. I spent months and the Hellions spent the money going through all the proper processes to get papers for me and Ruby so that we couldn’t be forced out of this country while our children, who were born here, stayed behind. Sure, we could appoint a guard
ian or take them with us, but the sacrifices we made were so we could have a family and future here in America.
I did not rob this man of a job; I was hired and get paid by the hour for the work I do. Why does he make assumptions? Sure, I may not have done it the right way from the beginning, but Ruby and I made it right with the club’s help. If this man only knew the hell I left behind … Not paying for storage was the least of my concerns where I come from.
“I’m not robbing you of anything. You signed the contract. You made the commitment to pay your bills. We have provided our services to you and are due our payment. If you cannot pay, we will follow through with the terms set forth in the certified letter you received.”
There is a click then silence.
“Mr. Falcon?”
No reply.
I hang up and make the notes in his account of our conversation. Seriously, he has had months and multiple letters and calls, so why wait until he is this far behind? Then, to make it my fault … People need to learn to have more accountability. I’m doing my job, plain and simple.
My cell phone pings with a text from Pami. We have gotten close since she moved here with her kids. They stayed with us while she made the transition from Catawba to the coast to be back with them. It’s been nice having boys around for RJ to play with.
Lunch?
Not today. Paperwork.
The amazing friend she is, my phone pings back, I’ll get the kids from the bus and keep them. Work as late as you need to.
TY. I owe you one.
Never, babe.
I smile, knowing I can stay a little while longer today and finish up late letters and over-locks.
My kids love being at Boomer and Pam’s. Her mother is there to be a grandmother figure to my children since they don’t have any.
When Doll offered me this job a few years ago, I never thought I would be so happy to work outside of my home. My whole life, all I ever wanted was to be Ruben’s wife and the mother to his kids. Then I was given this job that has been the best of both worlds. I get off early enough to be home with my kids afterschool, but I still get to make money to help afford things for them.
Ruben and I don’t live off any government assistance and never have. We have felt blessed just to be in this country and didn’t want to take anything more.
Taking a short break, I heat up some taco soup in the microwave for lunch. Only, in removing it, I didn’t expect the container to have gotten so hot, so it burns my fingers, causing me to drop it. The liquid splashes down my shirt and pants before spilling to the floor.
Cleaning up the mess, I lose time that should have been spent working, so it’s a good thing Pam is keeping the kids afterschool. I wash out my clothes as best I can in the bathroom sink then sit in wet pants and a shirt for the rest of the day while I get all the payments processed and late accounts called.
The work day ends, and I get in my van to go home. There is a light on the dashboard lit up that I have never seen before. Ruben is a mechanic, so I don’t give it much thought. I will tell him about it later and let him do what he does.
Stopping by Pam’s, I pick up my kids, and then we head down the street to home.
Pulling in, I can’t help letting the sense of pride wash over me. Ruben and I have done it. We are living the American dream. Sure, it took the help of the Hellions, but here we are.
“One at a time, while Mami makes dinner, tell me about your day. Go ahead and take your shoes off.”
“Ouch,” RJ whines.
“Stop hitting your brother,” I answer automatically as I head into my room to change clothes before starting dinner.
“We didn’t touch him,” Maritza proclaims.
“It’s my shoes.”
I turn to watch my son struggle to get his shoes off.
“They’re too tight.”
Kids never seem to stop growing.
I look to Mariella who is wearing a shirt that, every time she moves her arms, an inch of her belly shows. I guess more than one of them has had a growth spurt lately. Add shopping for clothes to my to-do list.
“Okay, I’m sorry for assuming. Now, go and wash up.”
“You know what they say about assuming,” Ruby says, walking in. I was so distracted by my mental to-do list I didn’t hear his bike pull up.
I smile at my husband as he makes his way to me. Wrapping his arms around me, he drops his head to mine and kisses me, and I allow myself this pleasure. He’s been good to me despite my crappy day. He has been my highlight.
“Today, we had chicken nuggets for lunch in the cafeteria. Well, Joanne’s were still frozen when she bit into one,” Maritza spouts off, breaking the moment with Ruben.
Ruby smiles down at me. “Good thing your mother packs lunch for each of you, then.”
“Yeah, ’cause they serve peas at the cafeteria, and Logan says they have bugs in them because they are squishy,” RJ adds.
I laugh. “You hate peas, and they are squishy when cooked, so it has nothing to do with bugs.”
Heading to my room, I change into sweats and an old shirt so I can go to the kitchen and make empanadas while my children share their day with me and my man watches TV. This time is the best part of everyday—all of us together.
All of the wrongs wash away into this moment of being right—one happy family.
Not Doing My Job
After a delicious meal and a few bedtime stories, all three of my children are finally fast asleep. My woman is in my bed, in my arms, and today hasn’t been so bad overall. It still feels like Groundhog Day, but how can I complain?
Jenna kisses my chest, and I squeeze her ass. She then slides over me, and my dick comes to life. Her hair cascades over my face as she brings her lips to mine.
“Vida,” I growl as I bite her bottom lip.
“I’ve been neglecting my man.”
I rock my hips as I take her thighs in my hands, making her straddle me in just the perfect spot. She fits over me like we were made to go together. Her beauty is ageless, and her body is still my every fantasy. The longer we are together, the more I find myself wanting her and needing this physical connection to her—Vida and me linked together as one.
She leans up and removes her shirt then slides down my body, making my dick painfully hard and ready to be deep inside her. I slide her pants down over her ass, her helping to take them off, before removing my boxers. I then scoop her up to have her sit on my face, something I need to do before burying myself in her. She laughs, just to have it cut off as I dive in, feeling like I have died and gone to heaven.
With my thumbs, I part her pussy lips, licking back to front and front to back before I dip my tongue inside, rubbing the crease of her thighs to her pussy with my fingers. I have her muscles relaxed as she presses against the wall to keep her balance.
My teeth graze her outer lips before I suck on her clit and fuck her with my tongue. I can tell she gets lost in the moment as she grinds against my face, making me moan, which sends vibrations through her, causing her to rock hard against my face and roll her hips in a circle.
“That’s it, baby. Find it,” I whisper as I use my thumbs to part her lips again and blow against her, sending her sailing.
I suck her through her aftershocks, leaving her legs shaking around my head before she comes back down to earth and slides down me, guiding my hard length into her wet heat where she immediately tightens around me. I struggle, fighting the urge to roll her over and fuck her senseless. My girl made her move tonight, so I will let her have her play.
She’s riding me, rolling her hips, rocking me into her sweet spot. This moment, this feeling, this is how it should be. Lost in each other, not drowning in the day to day activities. I crave this connection. I need it like I need air to breathe.
Her nipples point, and I pinch them before leaning up to suck them.
“More,” she calls out.
Nipping her collarbone, I thrust up, going deep, giving her all I can. Skin on skin, I
get lost in the sensations as she moves her hands to lean against my thighs, stretching back. Her head falls back, her hair tickling as it brushes my legs.
I watch a few moments as my cock moves in and out of her pussy before reaching between us and rubbing circles over her clit as she moves her hips, working herself to oblivion.
I still then push up, sending her over the edge, hearing her cry out before she leans over and kisses me.
Sitting up, she smiles as I thrust, ready for my own climax.
“Ruby,” she says breathlessly.
“Vida.” I smile back as I grip her hips, sliding her up and down my throbbing cock.
“We have to go shopping tomorrow after work. The kids need clothes.”
What the ever-loving fuck?
When I flip her to her back without sliding out, she laughs, but I’m irritated.
I grab under her knees and push her legs up. Throwing her ankles to my shoulders, I bottom out inside her and still while she wiggles, trying to get me to move. However, I’m remaining steadfast.
“You feel me? You feel me inside you, Jenna? When your man is making love to you, it’s you and me. You feel anyone else here? Me and you,” I say firmly. “No kids, Vida. No one else. Me and you. Ride this shit out.” I slide slowly in and out of her as her eyes widen in realization of what she did.
She bites her bottom lip, nodding her head as she starts building again.
I go deep, and she moans.
“Feel me, Vida. My life, your life, our life. Life, love.” I slide back and rock in again.
She tightens around me, and I feel the tingle up my back as my balls tauten.
I run my hands up and down her legs as I increase my pace. “Get there with me, baby. One more.”
She cups her breasts and rolls her nipples between her thumb and first finger as her inner muscles work me. Thrusting three more times, I release inside her and move her legs off my shoulders as I lean down and kiss my wife. She rocks up as I thrust through the last of my orgasm, and then she pulls away to breathe as her final climax claims her. Slowly, I move out of her and sigh.
Heated Ride: Hellions Motorcycle Club (The Hellions Ride Series Book 7) Page 3