“I want every inch of you, baby,” he explained, breath warm in my ear, making my body do a small shiver. “I want to own every hole.” He paused as a thrill went through me. “If that’s not…” he started, giving me an out that I didn’t need, but appreciated anyway.
“I want that too,” I told him, watching the mirror as his eyes slid up and pinned mine.
His hand moved down again, slipping between my legs to tease my clit again, drive me upward again. Then I lost his fingers again as I heard the snap of the lube cap open and felt the cool, slippery contents slide down my ass. The bottle went back to the counter and his hand rose to my ass, squeezing one cheek for a second before his fingers moved inward, his thumb working the lube where it needed to be and started to gently press inside. My head fell back on his chest on a sigh as his thumb penetrated and started thrusting lazily, preparing me for a long couple of minutes as chaos started to brew between my thighs, making me press them together to try to calm the need to come.
His free hand moved up my spine, pressing me forward. My hands slapped down on the sink counter and his hand went to my hip as I lost his thumb and felt his cock slide between my folds, teasing me, pressing against my clit for a second before sliding backward toward my ass, wasting no time in starting to penetrate. He pressed inward slowly, giving my body time to adjust, as his hand moved from my hip and slid between my thighs to start working my clit again.
He buried to the root on a curse as he grabbed my hip and started slowly, almost gently, thrusting inside me. It wasn’t long before I needed more, before I needed it like he usually gave it to me- hard, demanding, needy. My hips started slamming backward faster, harder, showing him what I wanted, but I told him anyway. “Harder,” I demanded and, on an approving growl, he gave me what I needed. His thumb stayed on my clit as his fingers slid down and inside me again, curling, working over my G-spot until I was completely mindless with sensations. Until all there was in the entire world was him and me, his hands on me, in me, his cock inside me, our ragged breathing, my moans, his hisses and curses.
I pushed back as he thrust forward, his thumb pressing into my clit, his fingers raking over my G-spot, and the little world we created exploded through my system as I cried out his name, a triple zone orgasm making my legs go weak. Shane’s reflexes were quick, arm going around my belly and hauling me up against his chest as I shook through the waves, my head back on his shoulder, my face turned into his neck. I was vaguely aware of him jerking upward once, his body spasming as he came.
Then, there was nothing, just stillness as we both tried to steady our breathing, as I simultaneously tried to come back to reality, but also stay in the perfect little dreamworld we had created.
“Fucking perfect,” Shane’s voice said, low, practically quiet, as his face rubbed against my hair.
“Yeah, it was,” I agreed, smiling a little dreamily, eyes still closed.
“That, yeah,” he agreed, arm squeezing my belly. “But I didn’t mean that. I meant you.”
My eyes opened at that, finding his reflected in the mirror, maybe an insecure part of me expecting to see teasing there. All I saw was sincerity.
“Barely know each other,” he went on, obviously in a sharing mood, “but you get me. Was in a shit mood. Most women would give me space or nag me about how I was feeling. You knew better.”
“Sex is a cure-all,” I said with a hesitant little smile, not liking that I was lessening what I had just felt with him.
I saw a flash of disappointment cross his face at the words too. “It wasn’t that and you know it. I think we’ve both done enough fucking to know when all it is is that. This wasn’t that. This was connection.”
Because I agreed, but was too chicken shit to admit it, I stayed silent, leaning up to kiss the underside of his jaw instead, always finding physical affection easier. “You get me too,” I admitted, wanting him to know that I noticed, that it mattered.
“Bat shit crazy in all the right ways,” he agreed, teasing me because I think we both were getting uncomfortable with the heaviness of that moment.
“You don’t know the half of it,” I agreed as he slowly slid out of me and moved away.
“One day I will,” he promised, moving back toward the shower. When I didn’t move to follow, he stepped back, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me with him. “Gotta get that lube off,” he said.
Then we showered.
And he cleaned up the puddled mess that was the bathroom floor from when he came charging out of the shower at me.
We had some coffee and bagels. Then we both passed back out.
Easy.
Effortless.
—
Saturday meant we were both in knock-around clothes with big to-go coffees in our hands as we parked on the street out from of Fee and Hunter’s house and made our way up their drive.
They lived in the ‘burbs part of Navesink Bank, literally the last place you would expect to see a woman like Fee. Or a man like Hunter for that matter. But they found a house that butted up next to a park that was in walking distance to both the elementary and middle schools so, despite being city and apartment-type people, they bought a two story colonial with four bedrooms, two and a half baths, and a half an acre full of outside toys, a gated in-ground pool, and the best deck I had ever seen in my life.
There was a moving truck in the driveway that Charlie was climbing out of, giving us a smile as a group of Mallicks came from the side yard toward us. Everyone, including usually dressed-to-the-nines Ryan, was in jeans and white, blue, or black tees, making each and every one of them look burly and capable.
Shane’s hand slid down and squeezed mine before, out of nowhere, little Becca came barreling at me, almost knocking me off my feet at the impact. “You’re here!” she exclaimed, hugging my legs tight, like she never thought she’d see me again.
“Of course I’m here.”
“Uncles Mark and Ryan have a bet,” she explained and I looked up at them with a raised brow.
“What kind of bet?” I asked her, though kept looking at her uncles.
“That Uncle Shane wouldn’t see you again.”
“Huh,” I said, ruffling her soft hair and picking out a few twigs that had found themselves wrapped up in it, “Looks like they lost, doesn’t it?”
“Good,” she declared, taking a step back. “We need more girls in the family,” she said, running off toward the back yard again.
“Charlie wants us to keep going until we have a boy,” Fee explained as she walked out. Dressed in a bright yellow mini-skirt and black tank top with five inch heels, she in no way looked like she was going to be doing any manual labor.
“Hey you have that extra bedroom,” Charlie said, shrugging.
“Start nagging your other sons to start procreating,” Fee declared, shaking her head. “I’m done.”
Charlie’s eyes slid toward me and how I was nestled into Shane’s side. The smile he had was a little wicked.
“Yeah, so not at that point, Pops,” Shane said, taking the pressure off me.
“You’re older,” Charlie said, turning from us and whacking Ryan across the back of the head. “Where’s your wife and kids?”
With that, Shane leaned down and let me in on another piece of his puzzle. “I do want them though. A litter just like Fee and Hunt.”
“That’s, ah, good to know,” I said, feeling a bit conflicted at that. Partly because I liked that image, a hoard of little Shanes running around. He would be a good father one day. Also because, if he was telling me something like that, it said something about how serious he was about making it work between us. But the other part of me knew that the chances of us ever getting to that point were slim to none. I hadn’t even given much thought to reproducing honestly. I had always been a little too young, a little too reckless, a little too busy enjoying my young adulthood to think about settling down or making babies. I made sure I never missed a gyno visit for that very purpose. As if sensing my hesitance,
Shane shrugged.
“Don’t worry. We’re having fun practicing making them now,” he told me, throwing an arm around my shoulders and leading me away.
“So why are we moving the second set of living room furniture in a year?” Mark was asking Fee as we made it inside the house.
“Hunter made some new furniture for the living room. It didn’t match the old couches and chairs and carpets and accessories. So we are changing all that.”
Mark looked at Hunter who shook his head with a smile. “Whatever makes her happy, man. You’ll learn that soon enough.”
“So where are we taking it this time?” Ryan asked, picking up a box labeled “bric-a-brac”.
“Over on Wilson,” Fee explained as she snatched a lollipop out of a running Izzy’s hand. “You’ve had three,” she explained to the child who pouted and walked away. “They are opening a women’s shelter in a couple weeks. They have counseling and daycare and about a dozen apartments for women and families. They’ll do a lot of good. We’ve already given a huge donation, but I figured giving them all this stuff for their common room will save them money in decorating costs. Becca actually put a box together of a bunch of her toys too when I explained what a women’s shelter was. She tried to stash a bunch of Izzy’s toys in there as well before I caught her.”
I made a mental note to stash some extra cash away to donate when I had it too. If there was anything the world needed more of, it was safe havens for women who were escaping shitty situations. I didn’t think I would have been able to do it on my own if I had kids to worry about too.
“Dark mood,” Shane mumbled down at me so no one else could hear.
“No, not dark,” I explained, shaking my head. “It’s hard to explain.”
“If it helps any to know, on top of whatever Fee and Hunt gave, the rest of us each gave five K in donations too. They’ll be doing a lot of good around here.”
My eyes looked over and found Helen watching us and, feeling it down to my bones, feeling it expand outward like it was going to make me bust if I didn’t say it, so I did. “You really raised some good men,” I told her, making her smile spread.
She looked at them all briefly, landing on Shane as she answered. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
With that, everyone went to work.
Well, the men did.
Helen, Fee, and I went to the kitchen for coffee, enjoying a family full of alpha men who insisted they do the heavy lifting, even if that maybe did set us back a couple years feminism-wise.
A few hours later, the men came in, sweaty, hungry, and took the meat out of the fridge to go grill off. Then, accepting our break was done, we all set to making sides.
And I felt it then too.
Comfort.
Rightness.
Home.
What I didn’t know then, though, was that shit was about to hit the fan in just about every way possible.
—-
We had been back from Fee’s for a couple hours, both showered and changed. Shane, into his around-the-house usual: low slung sweatpants and nothing else. Me into mine, panties and one of his oversize tees. He had been in the kitchen then upstairs for a while. I had been flicking around the TV, not particularly interested in anything I found.
Then Shane’s laptop came flying across the bed and landed half-on, half-off my leg.
“What the fuck is that?” Shane’s voice growled. When I looked up, he was gesturing toward the laptop.
Right then, realization hit.
No way. No way was I that friggen stupid, that careless.
But as my eyes drifted down to the screen, I realized I was.
I had been upset and I had slammed the lid shut. But I hadn’t closed the tabs.
Christ.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
“Lea,” Shane’s voice said and it sounded like a demand. My eyes went up to find him, his body rigid, his jaw so tight that a muscle ticked there, his eyes hard. I felt my lips part, looking for an excuse, looking for a way to brush it aside, feeling nothing but an odd mix of worry, guilt, shame, embarrassment, and bone-deep fear. “Hey,” he said, voice softening as he moved toward the bed. My traitorous face must have betrayed me yet again. He moved to sit in his usual spot, back propped up against the wall beside where I was sitting cross-legged. He took the laptop, turning the screen away and half-closing the lid. “Didn’t mean to yell. That shit caught me off-guard,” he explained and I understood. Hell, I wasn’t even mad that he yelled. I would have yelled too.
I brought a hand up, running it through my hair as I looked down at the tangled bedsheets. “It’s fine.”
“Not really,” he said, hand landing on my knee with a squeeze. “But it’s time, Lea. We’ve been pussy-footing around this for long enough now. I get that it’s a sore spot or a giant, gaping wound. But you need to let me in on it.”
“Shane, I can’t. Really, you don’t under…”
“Right. I don’t understand. Because you won’t tell me. I was going to let it rest, give you time. I figured that whatever the dickhead did was in the past and you were slowly trying to move on from it. I thought that, despite whatever damage you have inside, that you were free of it. This shit,” he said, bumping his leg into the laptop, “says you aren’t free from it. Not only that, but it’s a threat. I get that we are new and you are still holding onto the idea that you don’t need me for anything, but let me let you in on something here. I am not the type of man who lets his woman, doesn’t fuckin’ matter how newly he is his woman, get threatened by exes. I don’t tolerate the fact that he is doing shit to try to guilt you back to him. And I sure as fuck don’t let you walk around like this shit isn’t happening. This is happening. I get that it hurts. I get that you’re scared. But I can’t take care of you if I don’t know exactly what I am up against.”
“I don’t need you to take care of me, Shane,” I said, my voice a little hollow. “I’ve been doing alright dealing by myself so far.”
Shane exhaled loudly and I knew he was trying to think his words through, not let them explode from him like he usually did. A part of me would prefer the explosion. It was familiar.
“Look, I know you got away by yourself. You found your way here without me. You got your life set up all over again without me. But I’m part of that life now. I didn’t force you into that. You invited me in. So when shit like this is happening to you, it’s happening to me too. I need to be aware. Because the man stabbing a knife into your fucking brother’s stomach in retribution for you leaving doesn’t exactly seem like the kind of guy who is going to give up. Whatever went on in your past, it’s not over. I am asking you to tell me what I am up against when it does eventually find you here. Because, baby, I know you don’t want to hear this and I’m not trying to scare you, but it will find you here eventually.”
I knew that. I had always known that. It was why I didn’t want to get involved with him. It was why I didn’t want to make friends, let alone a makeshift family out of his. I knew Ross was determined. I knew I was his and what was his was always his. He would never give me up. He would, eventually, find his way to Navesink Bank.
My plan was always to run again.
To keep running.
“I should go,” I said, my tone defeated.
“You’re not going fucking anywhere. Are you really going to be so chickenshit as to run away so you don’t have to share? You’re stronger than that, Lea.”
I exhaled hard, blinking back the strange sting of tears in my eyes. I wasn’t sure if they were from his steadfast determination to get to know me, to protect me, to make me trust him… or if it was the fact that I really wanted that too and that scared the shit out of me.
“I loved him,” my voice said, I think shocking me as much as him. “I really did. He was great to me for a long time. Protective, giving, respectful. It went on long enough for me to let my guard down. And just about then was when I realized he was no longer just being rough or dominant like it started out. It w
as rape, plain and simple. I said no and it didn’t matter. I fought and he held me down. That was when I told him to go fuck himself and tried to leave. Tried,” I said, looking over at Shane as I swallowed hard. The worst part in retelling wasn’t the rape. It wasn’t remembering the helplessness I felt. It wasn’t the betrayal of trust that came from having someone you loved violate you. The hardest part was what came after.
Shane’s hand squeezed my knee again, a small show of comfort that was the only kind I would have accepted right then.
“Ross, well, he didn’t like that. He never put his hands on me outside of the bed before. But that night, he snapped, slammed me up against a wall so hard that I was too dizzy to fight him as he dragged me down the stairs, threw me into his car, and drove me to the compound. My grandfather, father, and brother were in his club,” I explained, forgetting I had left out the history there, knowing it wasn’t the most important part. I swallowed hard, steeling myself for the rest. “He dragged me out of the car and into the building by my hair, tossing me down on the ground. My family stood, surprised, unsure what to do. My grandfather started to say something. Ross reached into his waistband, pulled out a gun, and put a plug right between his eyes.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Shane hissed, his body going tight again.
But I couldn’t stop once I started. “He warned my father and brother to never step in on his business, that I was his woman and it didn’t matter that I was their family, that club rules applied: brotherhood above everything, especially bitches. If they tried to step in, help me, get me out, they would have a much more drawn-out, painful death than my grandfather did.”
“So you stayed,” Shane guessed.
“There’s no other way to put it. I wasn’t chained up. I wasn’t watched twenty-four seven. I just… stayed.”
“To protect them?” Shane asked.
I felt myself nod. “Mostly.”
“Can I say something here that you might not want to hear?”
Shane (The Mallick Brothers Book 1) Page 17