by Freya Barker
"Yesss," slips out as I arch my back to feed him more. A fresh flood of arousal soaks my already wet panties with the hot suction of his mouth, when he lets the nipple pop out and lifts his blue eyes to me.
"Your tits are glorious. So fucking sweet, babe."
His hand already found its way to undo my jeans and starts working them down my hips. With my arms still held over my head, Joe has me naked against the wall and I can't think about anything but feeling him inside me. I'm aching. I don't recognize the sounds coming from my mouth. When I hear the sound of his zipper, my eyes close in anticipation.
"Please."
The sudden release of my arms almost makes me stumble.
"Arms around my neck and hold on tight," he growls, before he lifts me by the back of my legs, up against the wall. I can feel the head of his cock sliding through the wetness gathered between my legs and I shift to get more of it. So hard—so hot. In one thrust, Joe slides himself inside me with a grunt.
"Jesus, baby—so fucking tight. Are you alright? Doc?"
I can feel him leaning back and taking me in. My eyes squeezed shut against stinging tears that want to escape. My lips pressed tight to hold back the cry of pain at the sudden burn.
"I'm ok. I want this, Joe. I'll be ok."
When I open my eyes I see the concern in his.
"Taking you to a bed. Where I can take proper care of you."
With that he slides out of me and I almost cry at the loss. Kicking off the pants around his ankles, Joe leans down, picks me up and walks into the bedroom where he drops me on the bed and lays down beside me.
"Didn't mean to hurt you, babe," he says stroking the hair out of my face. Oh God! I am mortified.
"So much for my big mouth, huh?" I try to joke it off, but he doesn’t look amused.
"How long?" he wants to know.
I hesitate and start tripping over my words. "Really Joe? A while, okay? I'm... I just... I've been busy."
He chuckles, "I know you've been busy. How long, Naomi?"
I try glaring at him, but it doesn't have much of an effect when you're lying naked in a bed, in the dark.
"Four years, give or take," I mumble, starting to pull the covers around me, but Joe rolls partially on top of me and lifts my arms over my head again.
"That's a fucking long time, honey."
"Yeah, well—"
"Pleased as shit you'd let me in. I am," he leans in and kisses me sweetly.
"Now let's see if we can do a better job of honoring that privilege."
While one hand holds my arms in place, the other starts stroking down my body, his keen eyes following its moves, slowly making my skin tingle. Fingers tracing the curves of my breasts, gently rolling my nipple between two fingers and trailing down to my stomach, tracing the outline of my bellybutton. It isn't until his fingers trace the fold of skin left behind by the C-section that produced Fox, after thirty-six hours of labor, that I suddenly become aware of how exposed I am. The small bedside lamp was left on and everything is out in the open. I start struggling against his hold on my wrists, but Joe holds me fast, with his hand and his eyes.
"Trust me."
Seems such a simple request, but with so many layers.
"Stop thinking, Doc, and feel. Feel this," he says pushing the hard ridge of his cock into my hip. "That's what you do to me. Now trust me."
I try to relax while he explores every flawed inch of my body with his fingers and eyes, and when he leans in to kiss every part of me almost reverently after his scrutiny, I find myself relaxing into his touch more and more. When he finally lets go of my arms and lets me touch him in return, I'm putty in his hands. My legs fall open without reservation as he slides down to taste me.
When he finally slides into me, his hands holding my head so he can look me in the eyes, I’m languid and pliant from a few orgasms from his mouth and fingers. This time, the stretch when he fills me, is nothing short of bliss.
"So much better than I ever could've imaged," I tell him, my voice husky. The concern in his eyes is instantly replaced with a smoldering heat as he starts moving carefully. But when my hands take a firm grip on his stellar ass and encourage his movements, he scoots a hand under my hips, lifts me for a better angle and starts pistoning his hips in earnest. It doesn't take long before I can feel an unbelievable third climax building. My hand slides between our bodies and almost without thinking, I work that bundle of nerves to a crest before tumbling over, wrapping myself around Joe.
"Fuck!" his body jerks as he pumps his release inside me and collapses on top, his head buried in my neck.
When he tries to roll off, I hang on. "Don't go yet," I mumble.
"I'm too heavy."
"I like you on me—in me."
Joe pushes up on his arms and the smile he gives me takes my breath away. After a minute, he’s rolling off me with obvious reluctance to clean up in the bathroom. He comes back with a washcloth and a towel, and I'm so far gone, I let him clean me.
"You're right you know," he says.
"'Bout what?"
"Reality is much better than the imagination. Now that I know what you feel like, I wish I'd never wasted my time on anyone else."
"So why did you?" I whisper.
"Because I never thought I'd get a second chance," he says, stroking my hair away from my face.
I can feel the blush staining my cheeks and try turning away when Joe leans down and whispers against my lips.
"You. Are. Beautiful."
Waking up with Naomi's warm soft body tangled up with mine is my new favorite part of the day. One I'd like to have on repeat indefinitely. Her body half splayed over mine, legs entwined and her cheek pressed to my chest, puffing little breaths through her parted lips is not something I'm likely to tire of.
After she let me clean her up last night we didn't say much, just curled up together and fell asleep, exhausted by the day's events and sated by each other's bodies. Sure, I feel guilty for keeping information from her she has a right to, but I figure after the day she had—fuck, after the day I had—we both deserved this.
The harsh light of day has a way of bringing realities back to the forefront, and I know I have to clear the decks with her. A quick peek at the alarm clock on the nightstand tells me it's early yet—only five thirty in the morning—but I don't want to take any chances. Detangling myself under her sleepy protestations and sliding out of bed, I go in search of my pants and some coffee.
A quick check of my messages shows a missed text from Carol to remind me to get back to Frank Bancroft. Right. Interesting timing, that. I should've called him back on Sunday, but it being Sunday, I figured it could wait. Then yesterday was a total loss and now I'm left wondering what the hell he wanted. Why did he contact me before the Phoenix PD did the next day? How did he find me? As far as I know, Naomi never mentioned where she was to him. In fact, she was quite adamant in saying she didn't. I'll have to get back to him this morning, and find out what he wants before heading back into the office, awaiting the shit storm to inevitably hit me. I have a feeling things are about to go downhill fast. All the more reason to get clean with Naomi, no matter how tough a conversation it might be.
Coffee ready, I pour two cups and take them back into the bedroom, where Naomi is just rolling over and stretching, the covers sliding low leaving her glorious tits exposed. Fuck, but she's beautiful. One hundred percent real; not a fake or phony part to her. A pained groan escapes me as I will down the resurgence of my morning wood and she turns her gorgeous chocolate eyes to me.
"Morning," she smiles, making to draw up the sheets to cover herself.
"Wish you wouldn't 'cause I'm liking the view, but with this hot coffee around, maybe you should. Wouldn't want those beauties to get burned," I point out, putting the coffee on the nightstand.
"Smooth, Joe. Real smooth," she snickers.
"Hey. I speak only the truth," I say, sitting beside her in bed, my back against the headboard.
"Why so early
?"
"Because unfortunately, we have some stuff to discuss before the day hits us."
She turns to me looking concerned and I palm her face and kiss her lightly. "Morning, Beautiful. Last night was exactly what I needed. What I'd wanted for a long time. But you were so tired and worn out physically and emotionally, I didn't have the heart to get into it then. Not for me and not for you."
"Okay, Joe, this is not making me feel better. If you're gonna walk away, just tell me please?"
"Not a chance in hell, honey. Not going anywhere," I say wrapping her in my arms. "I got a call from the Phoenix PD yesterday. First they grilled me because they weren't happy when they discovered I had the transcripts for James' last case delivered to me. I told you they'd already been pissed for me not being cooperative in telling them where to find you. Anyway, after some territorial bullshit, they dropped a bomb on me."
Her eyes are on me and I need to have her closer for this so I lift her to straddle my lap so I can hold her to me when I tell her.
"Four days ago, now five, they found a body just west of Phoenix on the banks of the Gila River. The coroner confirmed yesterday that the body is James."
I can feel her body go rigid in my arms and her face shows shock, before her eyes fill with tears and she starts shaking.
"He's dead? James? I don't understand—How?"
I pull her head into my chest and let her weep. I didn't know. Hadn't considered she might still have residual feelings for the man, but it doesn't stop me from hurting at the sound of her pain.
"I'm sorry, baby, so sorry..." I mumble in her hair as I stroke her back. "He was shot."
What I don't tell her is that the man had been worked over good before that. By the sounds of it the bullet would've likely come as a relief.
"Poor Fox. My... my baby's gonna be crushed," she hiccups, and I realize that her pain is for her son and I give myself a mental slap, before sitting her back and cupping her face.
"I'm here. Whatever you need, for you and for him."
"You already are, Joe. I don't want you putting so much on the line here. Don't want you getting into deep water over me."
"Not for you to worry about. Besides, we have bigger things to worry about. You've gotta check in with Emma and Arlene to see how things went with Katie and I have to put a call into the office. Then we go get Fox and bring him back here. You want me here when you tell him?"
She covers her face with her hands and rubs hard. "Oh God... yes. Yes, please. I can barely get my head around this. He might have questions I can't answer, and maybe you can. Do you mind?"
"I said anything, babe." And I mean it, even if the thought of Fox hurting hits me almost as hard as seeing Naomi in pain does.
With the coffee cold and forgotten on the nightstand, I lift her off me and grab her hand, leading her into the bathroom where I turn on the water and divest myself of my pants again. Under the hot water spray I quickly wash her hair and soap her body and mine, trying not to get turned on. Impossible feat, so I work hard at ignoring my body's almost involuntary response to her.
Naomi's fingers trace over the tattoo on my chest and the initials prominently displayed inside it.
"Someday, will you tell me about this?" she asks, almost tentatively.
"Absolutely," I give her, and see relief flit over her face.
Naomi calls Emma, who reports that other than having to wake Mattias up for his feeds, the night had been uneventful and mom was doing well. I put my own call in to Carol who had just walked in and told me it'd been a quiet night and that she'd keep me in the loop.
After I manage to get Naomi to eat a slice of toast with her coffee, we take off to pick up her son; who probably had one of the most exciting nights of his life, judging by his enthusiasm from last night, only for us to have to bring him the worst possible news. Parenthood fucking sucks.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"It was awesome, Mom. You wouldn't believe all the shit he has on his computers. I'm so going to study Computer Science."
My son is flying high after an exciting night for him and I'm not even gonna bother killing the buzz by harping on his language. His buzz is gonna crash soon enough. Fox is a little surprised to find me with Joe in his truck, looking between us, but after a shrug of his shoulders seems to take it in stride. I hadn't considered what it would be like for both of us to show up at the motel at such an early hour. Luckily Fox is still a typical kid in some ways and easily distracted. In this case, all I had to do was ask how his night was.
"Glad you had a good time, Bub, and fantastic you found something you think you'll like." I smile at him finding him staring at me slack-mouthed.
"Really?"
"What do you mean really? Of course. That's a great choice with amazing potential. I can totally see you do that. Why is that so hard to believe?" I turn all the way around in my seat to face him straight on.
"Dad always said you guys would want me to be a lawyer like him, so I could take over his part in the firm."
I can't help myself. The timing is completely off, but I snort and I do it loudly, causing Joe to take his eyes off the road and look at me, eyebrow raised and lips twisting.
"Nope. Wasn't my wish for you. Not ever. Not unless it was something you were really passionate about."
I reach for his hand and squeeze. "I'm sorry Dad made you think that, honey. I wish you'd have told me; I'd have set you straight. I don't care what you choose for yourself, as long as it is legal—" Fox rolls his eyes at this, "—makes you a living and is something you love doing. Could be anything."
"Cool." The smile that accompanies that answer makes it so much more meaningful than the single syllable.
Fuck, I hate that I'm about to wreck this good moment. I just want to wrap it up and keep it safe somewhere so I can look at it later. Joe's hand sneaks over and settles on my knee, giving it a little pressure. I have a feeling he gets it. He gets a lot. Surprising for a guy who doesn't have kids. He'd make a great dad.
I know I should probably be angry that he didn't tell me about James right as he found out, but I just can't find it in myself. What he gave me last night was a little pocket of goodness, of happiness. Some strength I can tap from when my stamina runs low again, which it undoubtedly will. I'm not as strong as I make myself look.
"Don't think too hard," I hear Joe's deep voice softly and I look over to find his clear blue eyes softly on me.
"Okay," I whisper back, and try not to think too much as we make our way home.
"Dead?"
"I'm so sorry, baby," I whisper as I run my hand over my son's back.
We're on the couch in the guesthouse with Joe across from us in the big club chair, where we sat down the moment we walked in announcing to Fox we had to talk. It's only eight thirty in the morning and already I've managed to yank my son off cloud nine into the brutal reality this day will bring. No matter what James was, or had done, my boy just found out he lost his father. Furthermore, my kid is smart. He suspects the timing is too coincidental to spell anything other than big trouble. His face is pale, but his eyes are sharp when they shoot up at Joe.
"Did he do this? That guy on the phone? The one Dad was representing? Did he kill him?"
Joe briefly looks at me before turning back to Fox.
"Can't say for sure, bud. No way of knowing at this point, but it looks like it was foul play. Your dad was shot."
I can feel Fox's body jerk under my hand and I want nothing more than to fold him in my arms and shield him, but the clench of his jaw and the rigid tension in his shoulders tell me that he is struggling to hold on. Trying to be a man, perhaps even for my sake, and it breaks my heart. Sudden anger surges through me, at James mostly, for a lifetime of skimming the boundaries of the law to safeguard his precious clients, yet creating a situation that endangered his family, his son. One that cost him his life.
"Where is he?" The question is asked in a small voice and is one I hadn't even thought of to ask Joe.
"He will be at the coroner's office for a while, most likely. It may be some time yet before they release his body."
Joe's answer has many different implications, none of which I want to think about or more importantly, want my son to have on his mind, so I ask one of my own.
"James has a sister in Boston. Do you think she's been contacted?" I'd met Ruth only twice throughout the entire duration of our marriage; once on the day of our wedding and then again when James' mother passed away about a year or so after Fox was born. Needless to say James and Ruth had never been close.
"They mentioned having been in touch with a family member but needing to speak to you."
Fox abruptly gets up off the couch. "I'm gonna go lie down. Didn't get much sleep." With that, he walks off into the bedroom before I have a chance to say anything. I get up to follow after him, to make sure he's ok, but Joe grabs my wrist when I pass.
"Let him be, babe. I watched him sit there, trying to be strong; holding it together like a man. Let him do his grieving in his own way."
"But he's my baby," I whisper, my voice cracking with the pain I feel for him.
With a tug Joe has me on his lap and tucked under his chin.
"I lost my parents young, Doc. It was a tough blow, but it was something I had to work out myself. My dad and I had never seen eye to eye growing up and once he was gone, there was no way to fix that. Ever. I'm thinking what's going through that boy's mind right now, may run along similar lines. Losing his dad, a dad who was too busy criticizing him to see the awesome kid he had? I'm thinking Fox is all kinds of conflicted right now with what he's feeling and it wouldn't be something that'd be that easy to express. Least of all to you."