Always Mickie (Cruz Brothers Book 3)

by Melanie Munton

  When I was around him, I didn’t fear anything. He made me feel brave and invincible and ready to take on anything the universe could throw at me.

  “Are you sure?” he whispered against my mouth.

  I pried my mouth away from his long enough to answer him. “Yes. I’m ready.”

  I couldn’t stop kissing him. The energy between us was turning frenzied as we grappled at each other’s clothing. As considerate as he was being—making sure I really wanted this—I knew that his needs were holding on by a very thin thread.

  “Thank God,” he said on a relieved breath. “Because I can’t handle one more night of you falling asleep in my arms, without knowing what it feels like to be inside you.”

  He lifted me up his body, his hands gripping my ass, and gently laid me down on his bed. He made it difficult for me to breathe when he slowly removed my shoes without taking his eyes off me. Then my socks. Then—

  Oh, God.

  Then his shirt.

  His upper body was now naked.

  His muscles were so thick and cut, rippling as he moved around above me. His skin was a delicious rich olive that I just wanted to lick all over. His Chinese character tattoo was stamped across his left pec, making me smile.

  I couldn’t believe this dark, brooding, gorgeous man was mine.

  With reverent movements, he slowly pulled me by the hand until I was sitting upright on the bed with him on his knees in front of me. His fingers skimmed down my sides, almost tickling, and stopped at the hem of my shirt. He paused for only a second and then lifted the material up, inch by inch, until it was over my head and thrown across the room.

  His eyes latched onto my bra. My heaving chest.

  Now, the nerves were hitting me a little.

  But only because I didn’t want him to be disappointed with my…performance. I wanted it to feel good for him. I didn’t want my complete ignorance in this area to be a turn-off.

  Though his half-lidded expression as he stared down at my partly exposed body suggested that I was doing just fine.

  He sucked in a ragged breath. “I have waited so long for this.”

  I offered him an encouraging smile and ran my hand down his torso. “I know.”

  He shook his head. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “No. I don’t mean to finally have you like this, though I am so fucking happy this is happening. You have no idea how much.”

  I looked up at him quizzically.

  “I mean, I’ve waited so long for this,” his hands slid down my arms, helping guide my hands across his bare chest, “to actually mean something.”

  I think I stopped breathing.

  “It’s never been like this for me before,” he continued. “But you’re different. We’ve waited for this because I wanted you to be ready and comfortable with it, when in the past I’ve never really cared. I want this to be special for you, Mick. Because even though I have more experience, it might as well be my first time, too.”

  I so did not want to ruin the mood by crying.

  But his words—his honesty—were causing my tear ducts to flood.

  “Then it’ll be special for both of us,” I said. “Trust me, it’s already perfect.”

  His face softened as his eyes flew over my face.

  Until my fingers reached the button of his jeans.

  Then his face transformed into one of unadulterated lust. His body vibrated with pure, raw need.

  Encouraged, I opened the button and slowly lowered the zipper. His eyes fell shut and his head tipped back, but he didn’t stop me. In fact, he pushed his hips forward to give me better access. And when my fingers dipped below the waistband of his briefs and touched him for the first time, he let out a groan that was so deep and booming, it made my ears ring.

  “I want you to tell me what feels good,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound too young and stupid. “I want to know how you like to be touched.”

  His mouth hung open, his breathing increased. “You’re doing just fine, baby.” I must have been because his hips started to thrust forward. “Your hand feels so good on me. Been waiting for that.”

  I pushed his jeans down further so I could pull all of him out. He was eager to help me. My reaction to seeing him fully exposed for the first time puzzled me. As soon as I laid eyes on him, my belly clenched with desire and my mouth actually watered.

  I’d never really done…anything with that part of a man’s body before.

  But I guess my body had figured out what it wanted long before my mind came to the same realization.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you how to suck me,” he said, his voice coming out all husky. “But we’ll get to that later. Tonight is about showing you how good I can make you feel.”

  What exactly did he mean by—

  He ripped my jeans down my legs and shucked them away without care. Pushing my thighs apart, he lowered himself between my legs, his gaze focused on my center that had been hot for him ever since he’d picked me up for dinner.

  Fireworks shot off inside me when he ran a finger down my panty-covered slit. He rubbed me there, stroking up and down, before covering my mound with his large hand. He was creating pressure and friction so intense, I was squirming to get away even though I couldn’t get enough.

  “Don’t be afraid of giving into it,” he whispered. “Don’t think about anything else. The sensations you’re feeling…let your mind escape into them.”

  He continued to rub in circles, and I could feel myself getting wetter. I could hear it. And something in me was building, picking up speed, but I didn’t know where it was taking me.

  All I knew was that it felt damn good.

  “I don’t know what…” I couldn’t think clearly. “I just feel so…hot.”

  “Fuck.”

  With a vicious growl, he divested me of my panties.

  And the next thing I knew, his mouth was on me.

  “Oh, God.”

  No one had ever done that to me before. But somehow I knew he was unbelievably good at it. He licked me, sucked me, and speared his tongue into me with feverish intent.

  “Dawson…shit.”

  “Let your body come,” he commanded. I looked down and saw his dark eyes boring into me. “I want it in my mouth, Mick. Don’t hold back.”

  Then I felt his lips on me again and saw nothing but his head of dark hair, working back and forth between my spread legs. And when he tightened his lips around my clit and sucked, that’s when I saw stars. The tiny twinkling kind that looked like diamonds in the night sky—the kind lullabies are made of. Hundreds of them exploded to life behind my eyelids as I chased my first ever orgasm.

  His moans against my skin sent vibrations sparking throughout my body. And his tongue never once let up. Not until my hips once again touched the bed, and my breathing evened out.

  He raised back up to his knees. “Holy shit, that was amazing.”

  “Uh, I think that’s my line.”

  He chuckled darkly as he kicked his jeans the rest of the way off. “Feel free to compliment me on my skills later. Right now, I want you to do the same thing you just did. But this time, I want to be inside you when you release.”

  He unfastened the front clasp of my bra and lowered his mouth to my breast. His cheeks hollowed out as he sucked at the tip, massaging it with his tongue. His eyes were closed, giving the impression that the act was as pleasurable for him as it was for me.

  For the first time, I was naked with another man. He was naked, too.

  With his body covering mine, he rubbed his scorching hot skin against me, grinding his dick into my hip. I hadn’t even realized it could get so hard. It was like…steel.

  He released my breast and hovered over me.

  I knew it was the moment.

  He leaned over the bed and came back with a foil packet. Right. Guess I had to start thinking about that sort of thing now. He ripped it open with his teeth, his eyes remaining on mine. But when his hands lowered to his jutting length, I
stopped them.

  His dark gaze seared through me.

  “Can I?” I asked tentatively.

  He slowly nodded and dropped his hands. I felt him watching me—not what I was doing, but me—as I slowly slid the condom down his shaft. He once again pressed himself against me, bringing himself to my entrance.

  We gazed at each other in silence, appreciating the moment. I gave him a small nod, and he slowly started to push inside. My breath caught in my throat at the initial friction I felt. It was pleasant enough. When he hit a barrier and stilled, I knew what was coming. I’d prepared myself for it.

  “I love you, Mickie,” he whispered.

  I cupped his cheek with my hand and smiled. “I love you, too.”

  He didn’t give me any more time to think. He drove his hips forward, breaking through the resistance. I winced at the brief moment of pain…and then he started moving. Pumping himself into me. It took me a second to get used to the sensation of being full, before I realized he was hitting spots inside me that no one had ever reached before.

  Spots I didn’t even know existed.

  Spots that had me reeling toward another orgasm faster than I thought humanly possible.

  “Jesus, Mick,” he panted, his face centimeters from mine. “This doesn’t even come close to what I imagined you would feel like.”

  That comment was enough to sidetrack me from my climax quest.

  He groaned. “This is so much fucking better. Wrap your legs around me, baby.”

  I did. This opened me up more, pushing him deeper inside and drawing another gasp from me.

  “I like you this deep.”

  “Yeah?” He thrust harder, faster. Panting against my neck, moaning into my skin. “Then how about this?”

  He leaned back, took hold of my ankles, and placed them on his shoulders. This allowed him to go even deeper, which I didn’t think was even possible.

  “How’s this, baby?”

  “Oh, my God. Yeah, that’s good.”

  Now, he was pounding into me at a furious pace. It was the most intense feeling of my life, but there was no pain. I could tell he was watching my face for signs of discomfort, but I also knew he was chasing his own release.

  So, he could be as rough as he wanted.

  Because I was quickly realizing that I liked it. Loved it even.

  “You’re mine,” he growled down at me, his tone demanding that I hear him. Hear him and listen. “You’re always going to be mine. Always, Mickie. I’m never going to give you up. You hear me?”

  “Dawson...” I was getting really close to what I’d felt earlier. “Yes, I hear you.”

  “My cock will be the only one allowed in this pussy. My lips will be the only ones that touch yours. And baby,” he lightly nipped my leg with his teeth, “I fucking promise you won’t want to even look at another man. Not after I get done with you every night.”

  His possessive words were driving me crazy.

  Crazy, good.

  I wanted to be his. I wanted to belong to him and him to me. Never before in my life had I wanted such a thing, with anyone.

  But now it felt like the most necessary thing in the universe.

  I screamed my release.

  He roared his at the top of his lungs.

  We dove down into the abyss together.

  Always together.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dawson

  2007

  Was I crazy?

  I mean, me and Mickie hadn’t known each other that long. She was still in college. Hell, she couldn’t even legally drink yet. And I had a complete lack of understanding of what a healthy, normal marriage between two sane—mostly sane—people looked like.

  But the ring was burning a hole in my pocket.

  I’d purchased it last week, as more of a good luck charm than anything else, if I was being honest. I’d planned to hold onto it for a while. Keep it safe until I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was the right time to ask Mickie to be my wife.

  Then I’d received the letter.

  The one that said I’d been accepted into the Baltimore Police Academy.

  And I owed it all to Mickie. She was the one who’d encouraged me to go after what I wanted in the first place. I’d like to think I would have pursued it, regardless of whether or not I’d met her. But I honestly wasn’t sure.

  I hadn’t told her yet because I was saving it all for a big reveal at the right moment.

  The news and the ring.

  I was hoping she’d be as excited about the latter as I expected her to be about the former.

  Either way, after opening that letter, I knew that now was the right moment to ask her. At least, sometime around now.

  We were in my truck, driving up to the University of Virginia to watch Parker’s baseball game.

  It marked the first time Mickie would meet him, and I knew she was very eager about it. More than anything, because she wanted to meet some of the family I rarely talked about, at least in detail. Details led to more questions, which led to more answers, which led to revealing shit I was not ready to bring out into the open.

  Mason said he would be meeting us there, but who really knew with him.

  “So, you grew up in D.C., right?” Mickie asked as we drove along the streets of Charlottesville.

  My shoulders tensed at the mention of that city. The city where my deadbeat parents still lived. The city I rarely visited and only when absolutely necessary.

  “Yeah,” I said quietly. “Why?”

  I glanced out the corner of my eye, and saw her shrug. “Just curious. You’ve never really talked much about it. How’d you wind up in Baltimore?”

  I rubbed the tension out of my neck. Thinking about my past usually did that. “I had a friend who worked at the factory. I needed a job at the time, and the pay was decent. I didn’t really have anything keeping me in D.C.” Not after Parker had graduated high school and gone off to college. “So, I moved to Baltimore.”

  She was silent as she digested that information. “And what does your other brother do? Mason?”

  Snort all his problems up his nose?

  “He’s a mechanic at an auto shop in Baltimore,” I replied. “He sort of followed me there.”

  “But you guys didn’t want to live together?” she asked.

  No, because he wanted to live with his doped-up friends, as much as I had protested the idea. And I wanted no part of that shit. I’d probably kick his ass on a nightly basis if I had to bear witness to his habits every day.

  “He had a friend he’d already made plans to stay with,” I said. “And he and I wouldn’t exactly be good roommates. We don’t always agree.”

  She laughed, the sound soothing my nerves. “Yeah, neither do me and Margot. We had to have a Berlin Wall situation in our shared bathroom growing up. And when it collapsed, it was total anarchy.”

  I smiled at the image of a shy, high school-aged Mickie losing her temper. She told me she’d been a bookworm back then, all straight-laced and proper. For some reason, that made me want to laugh. She seemed the complete opposite of that now.

  “Had a few sister squabbles, did you?”

  She scoffed. “If by a few you mean a thousand squared, then yes. She had a whole goth phase she went through where she listened to heavy metal, and was pissed off at the world and everyone in it, including me.”

  “And you didn’t? Have a goth phase, I mean?” I would have killed to see her with black lipstick and a nose ring.

  “I had an Avril Lavigne phase. Does that count?”

  I rolled my eyes and rubbed my hand down her thigh. “Not even close, babe.”

  We navigated through Charlottesville traffic and luckily found a parking spot close to the baseball stadium. I held Mickie’s hand as we walked down the sidewalk and through the front gates.

  I could do stuff like that, since she was my girlfriend.

  And that felt good.

  “So, your brother plays third base.”


  I nodded. “Right.”

  “And who’s the other guy you mentioned?”

  I walked toward the concession stand to get us some snacks before we sat down.

  “Clay Masterson, Parker’s best friend. He’s one of their pitchers. You’ll meet him, too, after the game.”

  As we waited in line and I looked over the surrounding crowd, a familiar slim form with pale skin and short brown hair caught my attention.

  What in the motherfuck—

  “Wait right here,” I bit out to Mickie and stomped off toward the unexpected spectator.

  She glanced up and saw me just as I stopped in front of her. Her eyes were wide with surprise and clearly a little wary.

  “Dawson.”

  “What are you doing here, Mom?” My voice was calm but had a distinct edge to it.

  She shouldn’t have come here.

  I couldn’t tell how lucid she was. Sometimes, she could manage to hide the fact that she was high off her pills really well. Other days, she couldn’t. This was either a good day for her acting skills, or she was actually sober.

  She bit her lip, giving her that helpless look that always made me cave. “Parker called the other day and invited me.”

  I closed my eyes and breathed through my nose. The sooner Parker realized that he was never going to have a solid relationship with our mother—that none of us would—the better.

  “Is Sal here?” I asked through clenched teeth.

  She vigorously shook her head. “No, he stayed home. I didn’t even tell him where I was going.”

  I took a deep breath. “Still, Mom. It’s not a good idea for you to be here.”

  Her expression told me she knew that. “I know. It’s just…he never invites me. And he barely even calls anymore. I never really got to see him play growing up.”

  “And whose fault was that?” I blurted out before thinking, and immediately wished I’d kept my mouth shut. This wasn’t the time or place for a Cruz family reunion.

  “Don’t start with me now,” she said, frustration in her tone. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  I needed duct tape for my mouth. “What? You mean you don’t want to be reminded about how you allowed your husband to control you all these years? How you allowed your children to be punched and kicked around by that bastard? Is that what you don’t want to hear right now?”