Plus, every single person that drove into the hospital via the main entrance had to see the sight as they passed.
I was so busy paying attention to what was behind the group of bikers—both the men of Free and Hoax’s club—that I hadn’t realized how close we were until two strong arms hooked around my waist and pulled me into a tight hug.
“Baby.”
Hoax’s voice was like a balm to my soul.
I hadn’t realized how anxious and sad I’d been until I was exactly where I needed to be.
My eyes started to sting, and my nose itched.
And soon, I was no longer able to control my tears. “Mr. M is dead.”
Hoax’s hand went up to my neck and pushed, but I didn’t need the prompt. I was already burying my face into the crook of his neck and letting my tears free.
My sister, whose hand I was somehow still holding, squeezed in there, too.
Hoax started to laugh, but slung an arm around her shoulders, too.
“What am I, chopped liver?” I heard my dad’s amused voice say.
My mother answered him, something low and intimate, and I was fairly sure that I didn’t want to know what it was.
I loved my parents. I loved that they loved each other. What I did not love was the fact that they were still gross and did things that I didn’t want to know about.
And neither were they discreet about how in love they still were with each other.
Thunder, sudden and shocking, had me backing out of Hoax’s body and glancing up.
My mouth dropped open in surprise.
In the few minutes that I’d been out there, not once had I glanced up at the sky to see the dark clouds rolling in.
Those dark clouds looked foreboding and ominous.
“What a perfect end to a crappy situation,” my sister mumbled.
Then, of course, I heard my dad say, “It’s baby making weather.”
I gagged, sniffling as I did. “Yuck, Dad.”
My dad grinned unrepentantly.
That particular saying was something he and the rest of the men now staring at me said quite a bit.
“What’s baby making weather?” Hoax innocently asked.
“Baby making weather.” Dad pointed up. “When you’re shut inside because it’s raining too hard to do anything else but fuc…” My mom placed her hand over my dad’s mouth. Then she cursed and pulled her hand back with a glare.
“You bit me!”
Dad winked.
Hoax’s hand around my waist tightened.
I finally let go of Phoebe’s hand, and she stepped away.
“Well, I gotta go,” Phoebe said. “Y’all have fun walking to BF Egypt to get your cars.”
We all watched Phoebe walk to her jacked up truck, the older model Chevy that my mother had when she was our age, and get in. Without a single care or fuck, she left, gassing it the moment she got onto the road.
“That girl is going to get herself into trouble one of these days,” Elliott muttered.
We all looked at Elliott, the comedian and resident egger-onner of the group, and stared.
He threw his head back and laughed. “I wasn’t the one to teach her how to be trouble!”
Dad grunted.
I turned back to Hoax, who was staring down at me.
“Looks like I’m completely clear and free for a few days. Convenient, right?” I smiled.
His eyes studied mine. “Like the results, but not sure I like how those results came to be. I don’t like the idea of you being here, unsafe, while I’m thousands of miles away and unable to get here if you need me.”
My heart lurched.
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” my dad mused. “If this shit doesn’t get fixed, they won’t be returning.”
I rolled my eyes.
Hoax’s lit with amusement.
“I guess I should count myself lucky that you have this support system here for when I can’t be available,” he murmured softly.
I studied his eyes, which were semi-shielded by the brim of his cap.
“But who’s going to take care of you?”
His eyes smiled. “Don’t worry. One day you’ll meet some of my buddies, and you’ll realize I’m in good hands.”
“I have good hands,” I told him.
He whispered into my ear, “How about we go see what baby making weather is all about?”
Chapter 12
I don’t just flirt with disaster. I give it a fucking orgasm.
-Hoax to Pru
Hoax
“Just come inside for a minute, fucker,” Bayou growled in frustration.
I rolled my eyes, looking longingly at Pru’s house, which I’d just come from because Bayou had called with an urgent request for me to come over.
Leaving Pru to take a shower—which she’d been in for quite a long time—I walked outside and was going to speak to Bayou out there, but then he’d ordered me to come inside for a second.
“It’ll take thirty seconds. I just want to show you something,” he lied.
I stretched my neck, following him inside. “If you make me miss her getting out of the shower, all hot and slippery, I’ll fucking kill…”
“Surprise!”
I blinked at all the people.
Rome and Izzy, with their new daughter Astrid.
Wade and Landry—who looked pale but happy sitting on Bayou’s couch.
Conleigh and Linc.
Zee, Castiel, Liner and Brielle.
Everyone that mattered but one really important person.
“You didn’t invite Pru?” I asked, sounding calm.
However, I was anything but calm. In fact, I was actually quite pissed, and getting more pissed by the second.
“Figured she’d come with you,” Brielle muttered.
Bayou frowned and turned. “You were supposed to walk outside and talk to her about coming. You were supposed to get him here by talking to her…what did you talk about for all that time if you didn’t invite her over here?”
Brielle’s cheeks flushed when she had everyone’s attention focused in on her.
I narrowed my eyes at my cousin.
“You need to get over whatever thing you have against her,” I told Brielle. “Because she and I are going to be married one day.”
Brielle’s eyes widened. Conleigh squealed.
I rolled my eyes.
“I gotta go back and get her. If she doesn’t want to come, y’all are SOL.” I told them all.
Shit outta luck.
Every man there seemed to be in understanding. Brielle, however, didn’t.
“You’d leave your own going away party?”
In answer to her irate question, I turned my back on her and walked out.
By the time I got back to Pru’s place—which had become mine as I’d stayed at it over the last few days—I locked the door and stepped over both Doohickey and Bacon.
Redbird and Bluebird watched me pass and didn’t say a word. Though, that was likely because they were both watching the television—the rude man cooking show that everyone seemed to really love when he told someone they were complete shit at cooking—and walked to the bedroom. Then I went even further to the shower.
That was still, might I add, running.
How long did a shower take?
I knocked on the door. “Pru?”
“Yes?” Pru squeaked.
“What are you doing in there?” I asked.
“Shaving every single hair on my body so I can fuck you blind,” came her answer.
My dick immediately hardened.
“Uhh,” I paused. “And that requires almost forty-eight minutes in the shower to do?”
“Yes,” she said. “I also waxed my vagina and asshole for you…that’s what took the majority of the time.”
Annnnnd that was when my dick became something that I’d have to deal with before I took her to a party
with my friends.
I twisted the knob and walked inside, startled to find Pru bent over in the shower shaving her toes.
“I’m not sure I’d notice any hair on your toes,” I told her as I got my fill of her.
With her leg propped up on the side of the shower, I could see everything that had become quite important to me since I’d met her.
Her pussy was slick as water cascaded down her back, and I could quite clearly see the hole of both her pussy and her ass—and she was right. Both were quite perfectly bare and free of any hair.
“You’d be surprised,” she said. “The other night when I was on top and I curled my feet over your thighs to try to get more leverage? All I could think about was whether you could feel my toe hair or not.”
I would’ve chuckled had she not switched to her other foot, this time parting her pussy lips even further and giving me an even better view.
I unzipped my pants and pulled my cock out, making sure to kick the door behind me shut.
I didn’t want the damn pig in here with me while I fucked his owner.
It’d be awkward, and I had things to do.
Her.
I ripped the clear shower curtain aside and caused her to stand—or try to. My hand on her back held her in place. “No, right where you are.”
She clenched, and I saw every second of it.
Shit.
She was so fucking hot.
I leaned forward and pressed my cock against her entrance, and the head slid inside with laughable ease.
“Were you thinking about this while you shaved?” I growled, trying to regain control of myself.
My hands went to her wet hips and I clenched them tightly, likely bruising her sensitive skin.
Though, I did that a lot without meaning to. According to Pru, she bruised easily.
According to the bruises that were almost always on her hips, I could contest to that.
I might’ve been more concerned about the fact that I bruised her every time we had sex had she not proved her point by pressing down on her hip one night—lightly might I add because she’d used my finger to do it—and the next morning woken with a bruise in the perfect print of my finger.
But, even so, I lightened my grip on her hip and slowly eased my cock inside of her tight entrance, trying to relieve both the ache in my cock and the pressure of my hands.
I failed at both.
Why?
Because being inside of Pru, bare, allowed me to feel every single slick, beautiful inch of her. She was soft, wet, and tight. Three things that nearly drove me wild alone. Put together? It was a quick sucker punch straight to the balls.
“Goddamn,” I growled, unable to control myself as I slipped farther and farther inside.
My balls drew up, and I shit you not, I nearly lost my control and came on the spot. She was that hot and tight.
“You’re killing me,” she hissed. “Please fill me already.”
I grinned.
Her need had me regaining the fight over my orgasm, but only barely.
“Oh, God,” I groaned. “Don’t clench.”
She clenched.
Hard.
I had no other recourse but to fill her up, and this time there was no easing my way inside. This time, I slammed home, filling her completely, and nearly knocking her off her feet.
The only thing that saved her from taking a nosedive into the shower was my grip on her hips.
“Jesus,” she breathed, her head hanging and her hand going to the handicap railing that was across from her.
Whoever had owned this house before her had been handicapped, because there were quite a few convenient bars placed all over the house. One beside her bed, one in the kitchen, and one in the shower.
We’d made use of all of them.
“I’m going to come,” she declared as I pulled back. “Make me come.”
“Are you close?” I asked, unable to help myself.
“So close,” she admitted. “It’s right there. I’ve been thinking about this since I got into the shower. Please.”
The answer to my earlier question.
I smirked, liking that answer.
“Hold on tight,” I ordered.
Then I started to fuck her. Long, hard, aggressive strokes that filled her up completely each time.
Between stroke seven and eight she started to come.
By the time I followed, and she had my release spilling out of her body, I was soaked, and the water had run cold.
“Shit,” she shivered, turning the force of the spray away from her. “I need a bigger water heater.”
“I think you have a big enough water heater,” I admitted. “Most people don’t take hour and a half showers and expect it to still be hot.”
She snickered and watched as I took my drenched clothes off.
“Come in and join me,” she offered.
I declined. “Negative. I don’t like cold showers, and,” I gestured to my jeans, “I’ve already partially had one.”
She snickered. “That’s true.”
I stopped in the doorway while unbuttoning my jeans.
“Bayou and my club are having a going away party at Bayou’s house for me tonight.” I paused. “Brielle was supposed to tell you earlier, apparently, and didn’t. Do you mind if we go for a bit?”
She pulled the showerhead off the mount and lifted her leg, aiming the spray toward her pussy.
I watched as she washed my release from her and felt myself start to stir.
“Sure,” she paused. “Is there going to be food?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, baby. There’ll be food.”
An hour later, Pru was dressed, walking only slightly weird, and heading to Bayou’s with me.
“That’s actually kind of funny,” she admitted. “You really should cut her some slack. She hasn’t ever had to share you with another woman before, and she doesn’t know how to handle it.”
“As much as I like that you are okay with it, I’m not,” I admitted. “I’m annoyed that she’s putting you into this situation. Not to mention I came home today to find her ass sitting on Bayou’s front porch steps glaring holes at your house.”
“She’s fine,” Pru reiterated. “I can handle her. I promise.”
The problem was that I didn’t want her to have to handle Brielle’s bullshit. I wanted her to feel welcome from my family, and Brielle wasn’t doing that. She was doing the exact opposite.
Pru’s hair was semi-wet, and I played with a bouncy curl that fell right around mid-back. When I tugged on it, the strand straightened, and lengthened to right about hip level.
“Your hair’s a lot longer than it looks,” I admitted.
“Yeah.” Pru stepped up onto the curb and smiled at Castiel and Zee who were standing outside. “The curly hair deceives.” She waved. “Hello.”
Zee and Castiel nodded their heads at her. “Pru.”
She’d met most of the crew before, at least in passing, so I didn’t need to introduce them.
“How’re the stitches?” Pru asked Zee.
Zee turned and lifted his shirt, showing her the stitched gash in his side. “Better. Fucked my tattoo up, though.”
Pru tilted her head and studied it. “We had a man come in last week with a nearly completely severed hand, and the only thing he was mad about was that he would lose his tattoos.”
“Paid a lot for those bastards.” Zee shrugged.
Zee was a tough nut to crack, and there were times that I didn’t think he even liked me.
Sometimes it was actually quite painful to watch him interact with people. Pru seemed to handle his abruptness in stride.
“Are y’all finally ready to eat?” Brielle snapped.
I looked up and found her in the doorway, arms crossed, and tapping her foot.
“Pru, you think you can hang here with Cass and Zee for a minute?” I asked softly.
Pru
nodded without saying a word.
“I’ll be back,” I muttered.
I exchanged looks with Cass and he nodded his head, understanding that they were to both be nice and keep Pru away while I chewed Brielle out.
“Brielle,” I said when I got to where she was standing in the doorway. “We need to have a little chat.”
She wasn’t stupid. She knew exactly what I was about to talk to her about.
Meaning she immediately started in without me telling her what I wanted to talk to her about.
Brielle pouted at me with sad eyes. “I didn’t mean for it to cause a problem. She’s just a puzzle I can’t figure out. She’s not your usual type, and each time I’m around you, you seem to fall deeper and deeper under her spell.”
“I’m in love with her, Brielle,” I told her bluntly. Sometimes blunt was the only thing that worked with her when she started obsessing over something. “And I’m tired of you making the woman that I love feel like she doesn’t belong. Continue doing it, and you’re not only going to push her away, but you’re going to make me follow in her direction.”
With that, I walked back to the party and didn’t stop, even when I heard Brielle’s hitched sob.
I wouldn’t be swayed by her tears.
They were no longer important to me, and I didn’t care if she cried.
There was only one woman that I cared about enough to handle that bullshit I’d just handled, and the difference between Brielle and Pru was that Pru wouldn’t ever put me through it to begin with.
Chapter 13
Why fall in love when you can fall asleep?
-T-shirt
Pru
The day had come, and I’d sworn I wouldn’t cry.
I was a big, fat liar.
I could already feel the tears stinging my eyes, and we hadn’t even made it all the way into the airport yet.
Hoax was dressed in his desert digital camo, and he had a massive green bag slung over his shoulder.
He didn’t look strained at all, but the bag wasn’t light. Not in the least.
I’d tried to pick it up to help him take his shit outside, but I’d only been able to get it as far as the front porch steps because Bacon had been laying on the top step sunning himself, making the stairs impassable.
My Bad- Lani Lynn Vale Page 14