by Freya Barker
“You’d honestly think those would make any fucking difference in how I feel about you? Jesus, Beth, is that how little you think of me?”
I’m stunned. Foolish me, I try to explain. “But three weeks, Clint. You’ve pushed me away for three weeks. It’s the only thing that makes any sense.” I know how much of a fool I am when he slides me off his lap, and with his hands behind him on the edge of the bathtub, pushes himself to stand over me.
“What about this? Every time I see the scars that dirtbag put on you, I can barely reel in my control. I almost killed a man, Beth, and I was so out of it with rage, I didn’t even know I was doing it. Each time I see what he did to you, what I almost lost, I can barely keep myself from plowing my fist through the wall. I’m all about control, you’ve gotta know that. The chance I’d lose it while fucking you is one I can’t take.” With that he’s out of the bathroom and I watch his back disappear.
Shit. The time it takes me to let his words sink in, and get my act together, is enough for him to have snagged his coat and keys and head out. I get to the window just as I see his truck peel out of the driveway.
-
-
Cockeyed.
That shit back there is bent. My heart is pounding like a fucking jackhammer, and I’m barely hanging onto my cool. Had to get out of there; I was this close to picking her up off the floor and fucking some sense into her. But in my current state I could’ve hurt her. I roll down the window and let the cold air blow in my face as I ease my foot off the accelerator, when I realize I’m barreling full throttle down County Road G. Not smart.
With the freezing wind blowing most of the heat out of my head and reason slowly starting to seep back in, I think about leaving Beth sitting on the bathroom floor, a look of disbelief on her face. Fucked up. Again. The day started with a beautiful promise, and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to let it end the same way. Jed’s out of the hospital and recuperating in Gus and Emma’s guesthouse, and with Emma around there’s no way he isn’t looked after, and well. Max is back home with us, and Beth is ready to make her stay with me permanent. Everything seems to be settling down. I’ll be damned if I’m the one screwing the pooch this time.
A quick look to make sure no traffic’s coming and a sharp U-turn later, I’m heading right back where I came from. Haven’t been gone for more than ten minutes, when I pull in the drive and see an unfamiliar car sitting in my spot. I pull in next to it and walk to the door, keeping my eye on the older couple standing on the step, and Beth in the doorway with a worried look on her face. The moment she spots me I see guilt marring her features, guilt that has no place there. I walk up behind the couple, who both turn around at my approach.
“Clint, honey—“ Beth starts, her eyes already red from the crying earlier filling with tears again, so I cut her off, not wanting to go into that in front of an audience.
“Can I help you?” I try to sound friendly but the question still comes out as a growl. The woman grabs onto the man’s arm, and he immediately tucks her against him. Already I like him and I don’t know who the fuck he is. Doesn’t matter though; whomever they are, they’re in the way of cleaning up the mess I left behind. Something I’d prefer to be doing over standing on my step, figuring out what these people are doing here.
“Tammy’s our daughter. This is Janet and I’m Des Milton. We’re here to see if you know where she is. And my wife wants to see Max.”
Jesus. Their son is in jail and their daughter swinging in the wind after abandoning her child. No wonder they look worn. Seeing indecision on Beth’s face, I decide to take hold of the situation.
“I’m Clint and to answer your question: No, we have no idea where your girl is, and as for Max, he’s just gone down for a nap. We’ve not heard from you or seen you all the weeks he’s been with us, so forgive us if we don’t invite you in right now and wake him up.”
I face off with a very angry Des, who’s having a hard time holding on to his control, but he does.
“We just got back from a trip to New Zealand early, suspecting something was going on back home when our phone calls weren’t answered by either one of our children or Dylan. Yesterday we finally land in Durango, try calling immediately with no result, drive over to Tammy’s place to see it empty and headed straight for the police station after, where we find out our dumbass son is in jail in Cortez. Drove down there this morning, got in to see him and all he’d tell us was that he has no clue where that “bitch” is. Sheriff didn’t take to kindly to me trying to smack some sense into that kid for talking about his sister that way and just being the dumbass that he is that got him where he’s at.” His wife puts a hand on his stomach when he throws his eyes to the sky, probably hoping for some divine intervention. I can’t say I blame him. The move seems to settle him some, because he grabs her hand and pulls it against his chest where he holds on to it, turning his eyes back to me. “I got enough to know my daughter looks to have taken the easy road, again. Spoiled her too much. As a result she avoids all things that require work and expects to have everything handed to her. Our mistake. Did not anticipate having one child turn to crime and another to walk out on her child, but there it is. Max is the one thing we’ve had any part in that is pure. Right now, my wife needs to see him, so she can hold on to it.”
Beth is affected and in a profound way. The tears that brimmed at my approach are tracking down her cheeks, and I have to admit, I fucking feel for them too.
“Right. Janet, I’m sure Beth won’t mind you peeking in on Max, and I’ll set something up with your husband here for a better visit tomorrow.” The grateful smile Beth sends me is enough to let me know that was the right move. I watch her put her arm around Janet and lead her inside. Turning to Des, I see he’s only maybe mid-fifties, but the stress of the past days makes him look older. “Des, no offense but your visit falls right in the middle of something that needs to be dealt with sooner rather than later. In the meantime, let me call the motel down the road, they will take good care of you. I’ll also get some friends of mine to look harder into finding Tammy. Don’t know what they’ll find, if anything, or how long it’s gonna take, but tomorrow I’ll sit down with you and fill you in on everything that’s happened, so far. I need you to brace yourself. So take tonight to kick back with the knowledge your grandson is in good hands and a stone’s throw away. Take in a good home cooked meal on me at Arlene’s Diner, just west of here off Main Street. In the meantime, I’ll make sure things are sorted here, and we’ll see you back here for lunch tomorrow?”
I get a sharp nod to indicate he’s on board. No words, but I don’t need them. I make a quick call to reserve them a room, after which we wait in silence, our breaths fogging in the cold until Beth leads a smiling Janet back outside.
“Thank you.” Her soft melodic voice such a contrast against her husband’s gruff one.
“Of course,” Beth says for both of us.
Des puts his arm around his wife. “Let’s go. Clint here’s got a room sorted. We’ll go get some rest, come back tomorrow.” Janet just nods, obviously trusting her husband completely as he leads her to the car and gets her settled before rounding the hood to the driver’s side. “Clint?” When I look at him he continues, “Thank you, and I suggest you deal with whatever needs sorting. Sooner better than later,” before sliding into his seat, starting the engine and driving off.
I turn back to find the worried look back on Beth’s face, and I don’t like it directed at me. So I walk up to her, put my arm around her shoulder, and pull her in from the cold. Time to get things sorted.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Come sit.”
Still trying to get my head around what just all happened, I’m not my usual self and follow him meekly as he leads me to the couch.
I was still standing by the window after Clint drove off earlier, kicking my own ass for being so mired in my insecurities that I couldn’t see beyond them. His words were like a cold shower, the chill a quickly penetratin
g slap of reality. Should’ve talked to him before going off half-cocked like that. God, I’m ashamed for being too preoccupied to see his struggle. Not once, but twice now, he has seen me bleed. Knowing what seeing him hurt did to me, I should’ve expected his reaction to be no less. Let alone him losing it on that man, enough so Joe’d had to pull him off. Worry. That’s what held him back. I could see now; how for a man like him that kind of loss of control was frightening. Never entered my mind. I don’t blame him for walking out. Fuck, I’d have walked out too if I didn’t have my grandbaby sleeping in the other room. He must be so disappointed.
That’s about as far as my thoughts had a chance to go before a cream colored Chrysler 3000 pulled in the drive. Not a car I recognized, although I did recognize the people getting out. Been a long time since I’d seen Tammy’s parents, who tended to stay at a distance. I was at the door before they started up the steps and had it open, waiting for them. I’d just told them I had no idea where Tammy was, and that yes, Max was with me. I didn’t feel comfortable letting them inside, though. First, it’s Clint’s house and second, Des was obviously angry, and not knowing them very well, I had no idea what they might do. The last couple of months have taught me to be cautious. So I was relieved, for several reasons, to see Clint’s truck pull in the drive. And grateful for the way he handled Des, I don’t think I would’ve had it in me to come up with the backbone needed.
But now I’m watching him pace the living room after having deposited me on the couch. He’s making me nervous. How badly did I fuck up? That’s why his words shock the hell out of me.
“I fucked up,” he says, stopping in front of me. “Should’ve talked to you, instead of keeping it to myself. I see I hurt you, when that is exactly what I was trying to avoid. Seeing you cut? That scarred me, Beth. And I’ve never—not ever in my life, come close to killing someone, but that day I would’ve happily gone there. I was beside myself. Literally. Can’t remember a damn thing except doling out hurt. Knowing how I like to take things to the edge sometimes in the bedroom, been scared to go there. Thinking I might lose control when seeing those cuts on you.” He drops down on his knees before me and slides his fingers in my hair, palms holding my jaw. “I want to fuck you so bad, Bean. Want to mark you as mine, so I’m not reminded of those assholes who had their hands on you. So that you’re not reminded. But I don’t want to scare you.”
Shaking off the shock that’s kept me silent, I slide forward, my legs bracing his hips, my arms sliding around his back and hooking on to his shoulders. With my face tucked into his neck, I tell him, “You’re an idiot, Clint Mason. You’d never hurt me. Not. Ever. And I’m an idiot too, for not realizing what you were struggling with. I’m not normally that dense.” The last words have barely left my mouth, and I’m on my back on the couch, Clint’s bodyweight pinning me down, his lips closing on mine.
“Love you, Bean,” he mumbles.
“Back at you, Big Guy,” I whisper back.
Then we’re done, with lips, teeth, tongue, and hands doing all the talking. My hands sneak under his sweater and encounter the soft skin over strong muscle, fingers tracing the rolling movement. My hips come off the couch, rubbing against his crotch when his mouth suddenly leaves mine and I gasp for air. “Holy Jesus,” I manage. Barely.
“No shit,” he breathes equally hard before raising himself off me. “Not big on interrupting what we’ve got going on here, babe, but I’m thinking the bedroom?”
I’m all for being ravaged on the couch—or any other piece of furniture, as long as Clint is the one doing the ravaging— but with a toddler having a nap only steps away, the bedroom seems the more prudent choice. Straightening my shirt, which somehow ended up under my armpits, I grab hold of Clint’s proffered hand and allow him to pull me up. The mood immediately changes once we step over the threshold and into the bedroom.
“Stand here and don’t move,” he growls in my ear before I hear the click of the door closing behind me. Super-sensitized I flinch at the sound, which seems loud in the otherwise quiet room. I don’t see or hear as much as sense him walking up behind me. He doesn’t touch, but I can smell and feel his proximity as he slips by. Every instinct wants to follow to the bed but when I make the slightest move he shakes his head. Seeing as he’s kept me at a distance for fear of losing control, I’m not about to make it more challenging for him now. By the bed, he sinks down on the edge, his eyes scanning me from my socks to the top of my head and back down over the scar on my face. I see him flinch, biting down whatever angry emotions seeing it evokes in him. Finally they come to rest on my eyes.
“Take your clothes off.” His voice soft and deep, sending a shiver from my scalp all the way down my neck and back. I haven’t even started yet and already goose bumps rise on my skin. A slight lift of his eyebrow is all it takes to get my hands moving, unzipping my jeans and sliding them down, granny panties and all, taking my socks along when I step out of them. Crossing my arms I grab the hem of my shirt and lift it over my head. It’s then I notice the cups still pulled down below my breasts from our tangle on the couch, but when I reach back to undo the clasp he stops me.
“Leave it on. Just like that.”
A little niggle of insecurity raises it’s head, standing here naked as the day I was born. Except now with a body soft and somewhat flabby with age, not to mention my boobs spilling over top of the bra, creating what seems to me layers of flesh that can hardly be attractive. All this time Clint’s eyes have not strayed from mine, but now that I’m fidgeting where I stand, he lets them drift over me. I close my eyes, not wanting to see his reaction to my body. Sure, he’s seen me before, but most of the time that was when we were grappling around the bed. He’s never subjected me to this kind of scrutiny, and although he sits half a room away, nothing has ever felt quite this intimate or exposing. I’m so deep inside my head, I only register the sound of a zipper when I hear his voice.
“Open your eyes, Bean. Look at what you do to me.” The slight hitch in his voice has me open my eyes to find him still sitting, but lazily stroking his formidable cock, obviously released from the confines of his jeans. He watches me look at his hand sliding up and down the beautifully thick-veined shaft, a bead of moisture pooling at the tip. So luscious, I can’t help running my tongue over my bottom lip. “Come here, baby,” the sound of his voice gritty as his focus snaps down to my mouth, but no less inviting. Every step I take makes me more aware of the slick rub of my thighs as arousal slowly leaks from me. When I’m close, he releases his cock and grabs me by the hips, pulling me firmly between his legs, his mouth reaching for an exposed nipple. His hands kneading the excess flesh on my hips, while he draws me deep inside his hot mouth. A whimper escapes me when he lets my nipple plop free. The same treatment is given to the other side, before his mouth trails down and across the rolling flesh of my stomach. All done with such reverence, that any lingering thoughts of inadequacy have long disappeared, replaced with only sensations and feelings. Bending over he slides his tongue between my legs dragging at the moisture gathered there and hums. “So good. You taste as beautiful as you are.” His nostrils flare, taking in the smell of my arousal before his hands force my body around. With my dimpled ass in his face, some of those thoughts find their way back inside my head, but not for long. His callused hands massaging the cheeks of my ass, I feel his breath on me moments before his lips are there, giving my butt the same attention he did my breasts and stomach. I’m not prepared for the nip of his teeth on my flesh and almost pull away, but his hands hold me back.
With one hand sliding up along my spine, pressing gently he urges me to bend over. “Hands on your knees and spread.” My face flushing red, from embarrassment and arousal at the same time, I do what he asks. Terrified of losing control of my muscles, I clench my cheeks together tightly. The deep chuckle behind me tells me it’s not gone unnoticed, and I flush even deeper.
“Relax, Bean.”
Really?
Just like that I’m back in m
y head. What kind of damn nickname is Bean anyway? And who actually says that when I’m bent over with my ass in the air?
“Be still,” he rumbles, keeping his hand firmly on my back when I try to straighten up. Before I have a chance to voice my protest, his mouth is right there. His tongue slicking along the folds of my pussy and up. Oh my God. The scrape of his stubble on the back and inside of my thighs, just abrasive enough to make my nerve ends sing. The moment his lips close around my clit and suck, I’m done for. No longer able to stay quiet as demanded, I cry out as I come so hard, if not for Clint’s hands holding me in place, I’d have done a face-plant on the carpet.
“Beautiful,” he mutters before he has me on my stomach on the mattress, his body folded over me and his mouth in my neck. “Gonna fuck you now, Beth, and I’m doing all the work.” I feel the cold air hit my back as he lifts off. From the rustling of fabric, I can tell he’s finally getting naked with me.
Pulling both my arms behind me, he slides the straps of my bra down each shoulder to my elbows, where he gathers both sides in one hand effectively keeping my elbows together and tied.
“Gonna have to get your knees on the edge of the mattress, babe. You’re not high enough.”
With a little assistance I manage to position myself to his liking, giving him my complete trust. Despite that it seems awkward with my ass in the air once again, but this time higher than my upper body, still flat on the covers.
“Ready?” Is all he says before powering into me full force while pulling on the makeshift binds at my elbows, bringing my upper body off the bed. Deeply rooted inside me, he stills and I can hear his heavy breathing over my own. Despite having just had a doozy of an orgasm, his cock inside me, the position of our bodies and the total control he has over our movements has me already building up to the next. But he doesn’t move.