by S. Layne
It’s heady and serious and it feels completely right. We aren’t complete strangers who have only known each other for weeks. We are adults, reconnecting after years of separation. And while we still have much to learn about one another, I have learned enough in the last few weeks to know one thing for certain.
He is my future.
I tip my wine glass to my lips, swallowing the last small sip. Donovan’s wiping his mouth with his gray cloth napkin and his eyes dip, watching me swallow.
“Yes,” I whisper, and set my glass on the table.
One eyebrow jumps. “Yes, what?”
“I’ll move in with you.”
A visible amount of tension—one I wasn’t aware he was carrying in his shoulders until I watch them deflate in front of me—evaporates.
His eyes shine and his lips tip up. “Champagne to celebrate?”
I shake my head slowly. I want something different.
Him.
“I’d prefer to go home.”
“Home.” He breathes the word out on an exhale. His nostrils flare, eyes dilate.
He looks hungrier than I am, and he quickly garners our server’s attention, handing him a credit card without seeing a bill.
I watch in fascination as the young man scurries off, as if he senses the need for expediency.
I grin. The thought of that word…the realization of what I’ve just agreed to, blossoms inside me. It’s not terrifying at all. “Our home.”
“And Jeremiah?” he asks, his fingers tapping on the table.
I reach over and cover his hand with mine.
“If I didn’t love Jeremiah and want to be in your family, I wouldn’t have said yes.”
He nods. “I know.” He flips his hand, our palms touching. Our fingers lace together, entwining with the other person’s hand as if it’s what they were meant to do. Tingles burst on my arm, traveling to my heart.
“I love him, too,” I assure Donovan.
He blinks harshly, swallows more forcefully, and nods as the server returns with our bill for him to sign. I watch as he does it, one-handed, not removing his hand from mine. Then he tugs me to my feet, draping my jacket over my shoulders and pulling me outside.
The brisk fall air causes me to catch my breath as we step through the door and Donovan pulls me to his side, unlacing our fingers only to settle his hand on my hip.
“I want to do irreverent things to your body tonight.”
The apex of my thighs instantly heats and spasms.
“Good.” I tilt my head, look up at him, and smile. “I want you to be wicked.”
“Utterly perfect,” he murmurs before pressing his lips to my forehead.
I’m ushered into the car, the door closing behind me quickly, and Donovan takes his seat. He barely pauses to look for traffic before pulling out on the road in front of us.
I laugh, startling him.
“What?”
“You,” I say through my laughter. “You’re in such a hurry.”
“Because I’ve been thinking you’d say no. That you’d leave.”
He scowls, a line of frustration etched in his features that I didn’t understand this morning but understand completely now.
I rest my hand on his leg and squeeze. “I’m sorry I made you worry.”
“Yes, well, you can make it up to me tonight.”
“With pleasure.”
He shoots me a look that almost makes me orgasm on the spot. “Oh. It will be.”
I don’t know what entirely comes over me—perhaps knowing I truly am his—but as Donovan shifts the car, his strong hands on the gearshift, my eyes trail his body, up his arms to his jaw, his slightly crooked nose, and to his eyes.
He’s looking straight out the window, intent and focused on driving.
And I come undone for him.
Slowly, I slide my hand along his thigh. It tenses under my touch and his eyes slide in my direction.
My hand moves further up and I bite my lip when he widens his legs slightly.
“What are you doing?”
I cup his balls through his trousers and squeeze firmly. “Playing.”
I keep my eyes on him as my fingers go to his belt.
Donovan shakes his head. “You’re trouble.”
Yet he doesn’t move to halt my inefficient progress.
“I’m getting turned on,” I tell him, my voice a hoarse whisper. The heat coming through the air vents is no match for what’s coursing through my blood. I run my hand along his erection that’s quickly growing hard beneath me. “I want you.”
He drops a hand from the steering wheel to cover mine and stills me. With a deep groan, he squeezes my hand. “Wait until we get home.”
I press against his erection, my fingernails scraping his thick cock through his clothes. “I can’t.”
He blinks, looks at me and out the window. I see him debating my insanity before he mutters, “Fuck it.”
His fingers help mine and we quickly undo his belt buckle. With that out of my way, I lean over and undo his button and then his zipper. He shifts his hips, making it easier, the entire time a grin on his lips.
I love that grin.
“I want this,” I say and slide my hand into his pants. Cupping him, I tremble at the feel of his hot erection. It pulses in my hand and I pull it out, slowly sliding my hand from base to tip. “I want you.”
He groans. It’s low and soft but fills his car and sends shocks to my sex. My panties are wet, and I shift in my own seat as I continue slowly sliding along his sensitive flesh.
“This is so hot.” I yearn to lean down and run my tongue down his length, something I’ve rarely done to him. But with him in my hand, completely at my mercy, the power I have right now is heady.
“Suck me,” he commands, his voice more hoarse than mine.
I lick my lips and smile. “It’s like you read my mind.”
I lean forward, squeeze his cock, and love the tortured groan that escapes his lips. We’re just leaving town, no traffic on the roads. I feel so wanton.
In the most exciting way possible.
He turns a corner and I brace myself against the armrest only to have my hands still on his erection when I see a squad car up ahead, flashing lights.
Donovan slows, checking for traffic before he moves around the cop car, but my eyes move quickly to the sidewalk.
I know that flannel shirt.
“Stop the car!”
“What?” His dick twitches in my hand and he looks at me, but my gaze is focused on the windshield.
“Stop it. Pull over!” I yank my hand from his erection.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s Ben.”
Donovan slows immediately. We’re in front of the cop car, its lights flashing in our rearview window, and I twist in my seat to see a man in full dress uniform suddenly reach out and wrap his fingers around Ben’s throat.
I fling my door open, not stopping when I hear Donovan shout my name, quickly followed by a curse behind me.
“Hey!” I yell, running toward the two men. “Get your hand off him.”
The cop turns to me at the same time Ben’s eyes flash in my direction.
It’s night, but not dark enough where I can’t see the pure evil shoot daggers in my direction from the man’s eyes. “This is none of your business, ma’am. I suggest you move along.”
“No way.” I shake my head. “Not until you get your hands off this boy.”
The cop sneers but slowly I see his fingers loosen on Ben’s throat before he drops his hand completely. “This boy is under arrest.”
I walk closer to Ben, my eyes staying on the cop. His dad. It has to be.
“For what?” I ask, cocking my head.
“I don’t have to tell you.”
I hear Donovan walking up behind us, but I don’t look at him.
With his silent strength behind me, knowing he won’t let anything happen, I take my eyes off the cop and turn to Ben.
; His hands are balled into fists, his chest is heaving, and his eyes are brimming with tears. I take another step forward. “Are you okay?”
His lips twitch, but he stays silent.
“I’m going to ask you to step back, ma’am, and let me do my job.”
I slide an angry glance in his direction. In his hands, he’s holding a pair of handcuffs.
Ben’s breath hitches when his dad raises them.
“No way in hell.”
“Talia,” Donovan whispers behind me. He reaches forward and wraps his hand around my wrist.
I grow strong from his touch but ignore the warning in his voice and square off toward the cop, putting Ben behind me. “Since when does a cop do an arrest by choking a teenager?”
He sneers and looks like he wants to hit me. I’m not surprised. “He was resisting arrest. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m only going to ask you once more to step back and let me do my job.”
The red and blue lights flash behind him, making it difficult to see his face or his expression.
I shake my head, but Donovan steps in.
“Very well.”
“What?” I snap my head toward his. “You can’t be serious.”
He has a cell phone in hand and his eyes on the cop.
“Thank you,” the cop says. It sounds like it’s taking every evil restraint in him to be polite. I would bet money he doesn’t say it often.
Donovan just shrugs. “It’s no problem. I’ll call my lawyer and we’ll follow them to the precinct until this mess is straightened out.”
Behind me, I hear Ben sigh. With relief? Or more fear?
Donovan smiles toward the cop. “And then we can file a report for the way you mishandled your authority and the way we witnessed you abusing this boy.”
Victory slices through the air. The handcuffs jingle in his tightened grip. The muscles in the man’s neck grow visible. He looks like a panting bull. Pissed beyond belief.
His eyes slide down Donovan’s body, and if he doesn’t recognize the face, I see him clearly recognize that Donovan comes from money. A lot of it. And he’s not fucking around.
His lips curl in and he takes a step back, raising a finger to point at Ben. “I’ll give you a warning tonight, boy. You hear me?”
His voice cracks as he replies, “Understood…sir.”
His dad steps back and whips the cuffs around his hand before pocketing them at his waist. Without another word, he climbs into his cruiser and peels out into the street, tires squealing, lights still flashing.
As soon as he’s gone I turn to Ben and pull him into my arms. “I was so worried about you. Are you okay?”
His hands grip my biceps and he pushes me away.
He doesn’t look at me when he says, “You just made everything worse.”
“Ben…”
He shakes his head and steps back, putting his back to a brick wall. “I need to go.”
“Let me take you to the center,” I say at the same time Donovan says, “Come home with us.”
My eyes widen and I look at him over my shoulder. He just shrugs.
“I’m Donovan,” he says holding out his hand in Ben’s direction. “Talia’s boyfriend.”
The word rolls off his lips so easily. It sounds perfect. And silly.
He’s way too masculine to be simply a boyfriend. I bite my lip, fighting a grin, when I see Ben’s hand reach out tentatively and shake Donovan’s hand.
“Come home with us for the night. We’ll feed you, give you a warm, safe bed, and you can play video games with my nephew.”
“Jeremiah,” I tell Ben. They’ve been at the center together before, and while they’re practically strangers, I know he’ll be familiar.
Indecision wars in his eyes, and I wait with bated breath while he evaluates his options.
“Please, Ben. It’s either our place or the center, but I’m not leaving you on the streets tonight.”
He nods briskly once, still not looking me in the eyes. “Fine. Your place.”
He starts walking toward Donovan’s car and Donovan reaches for his phone. “Bentley? Yes…I need some help. Take Jeremiah to the store and go pick up some clothes. Two weeks’ worth, everything…boy, sixteen years old—” He looks at me for confirmation and I nod. My head is spinning. “About five-ten, one-seventy…yup. Thanks.”
He hangs up and opens the back door to the car.
No one says anything when Ben slides in and I slip in next to him. But I catch the smile on Donovan’s lips as he nods in understanding and closes the door behind me.
I quickly take Ben’s hand in mine and squeeze it tight. I can see red marks on his throat, and the taste of bile rises in my throat.
“Are you okay?” I ask and he shakes his head. “Can you tell me what happened?”
As Donovan pulls onto the street, Ben is silent, staring out the window, but slowly he squeezes my hand back and says, “Same shit. Different day.”
And I don’t know what comes over me in that moment, but I make my decision.
There is no way in hell he’s ever going to have to be around his dad again.
Low, quiet laughter filters into the hallway from the game room and I stand there, my back against the wall in the hallway, just listening.
The last two hours have been insane, to say the least. As soon as we got home, Donovan gave me a kiss on the cheek and then picked up his phone and excused himself to his office. While I was left alone with Ben, I gave him a tour of the house and showed him one of the guestrooms next to Jeremiah where I figure he can sleep.
I have no idea what Donovan’s been doing and haven’t had much time to think about it.
Jeremiah and Bentley showed up just as I was finishing the house tour, where Ben had been silent for most of the time until I showed him the game room. Then his eyes lit up like the Fourth of July.
I had smiled and rolled my eyes. Boys.
After I settle the boys in the room, explain that Ben is staying the night, and tell Jeremiah to show him how to work the gaming system, I leave them alone to search out Donovan.
He’s in his office with the door shut, and while I hear his voice murmuring but can’t make out what he’s saying, I don’t know if he’d want me to interrupt.
Walking away from his office, I decide to head back into the game room but pause again outside when I hear Ben ask, “You like your uncle?”
Several quiet moments pass until Jeremiah, almost so reluctantly it makes me smile, says, “Yeah. He’s pretty cool.”
I rest my head against the wall, turning it to the side, when I hear quiet footsteps headed my way.
“You’re eavesdropping,” Donovan whispers, his lips stretched into a smile.
I press my finger to my lips and head his way, pushing off from the wall. “Jeremiah thinks you’re pretty cool.”
He scoffs quietly. I don’t think either of us want to be caught spying. “That’s because I am.”
“Thank you.” I slide my hand to the back of his neck and roll to my toes, pressing my lips to his. “For everything tonight.”
“We should talk about this.”
I drop to my heels and frown. “Everything okay?”
“Come with me.” He takes my hand and pulls me down the hall to the living room.
Technically, I’m breaking about a thousand ethical codes having Ben in my house.
I also don’t care. All night long, I’ve been replaying my earlier conversation with Donovan in my mind. It’s as if running into Ben tonight has opened the door for what Donovan suggested, and I can’t stop thinking about what-ifs and why-nots. What if I hadn’t seen Ben? What would his dad have done? What would Ben have done? What if I—we—could take in more kids? What if I stepped back from the center a little bit?
They’re looping through my brain and making it hurt, but filling me with unknown excitement at the same time.
I take a place next to Donovan on the couch and lean back as he drops an arm around my shoulders. He’s turned sl
ightly so he’s facing me, leaning in, and all I want to do is close the space and show him exactly how thankful I am that he stepped in tonight.
“I talked to Jensen,” he states with no preamble.
“And?”
He runs a hand through his sandy-brown hair. I can see the tension lining his eyes, and when he sighs, I feel the weight of it. “Technically, I’m breaking laws by bringing him here. Sort of. I think it’s complicated, but since he’s sixteen it might not be so bad. But his dad could easily file kidnapping charges if he wanted to, if he finds out who I am.”
He pauses, runs his hand over his mouth. “We need more information, but Jensen’s already looking into doing whatever he can to help make sure Ben doesn’t have to go back to that home again.”
“That’s good, though.” I lean in and rest my hand on his thigh.
One of his hands covers mine and he squeezes.
“Isn’t it?”
“It is, but there’s a lot to figure out. I know you already have a foster care license, but I talked to Jensen about getting me certified as well.” My eyebrows shoot up my forehead and Donovan reaches out, smoothing my surprise from my face with a firm brush of his fingertips against my skin. He laughs softly. “What did you think I was willing to do when I brought it up earlier?”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “This is all happening so fast.”
He simply shrugs and brushes his lips across my forehead. I sigh at the gentle, calming contact and lean in.
“Perhaps it’s happening the way it was meant to be.”
Perhaps. Emotions clog in my throat. “This is fast, though.”
He laughs softly. “You already said that, and I know it is. Before we can do anything at all, we need more information from Ben. I need to get you officially moved in, and I need to talk to Jeremiah about all of it, too.”
I squeeze his leg and close my eyes. Everything’s changing in the blink of an eye, and while it’s overwhelming, so much of it feels right. Perfect.
“Can I be there when you talk to Jeremiah?”
He looks at me hesitantly, and I suck my lip in between my teeth. Then he nods. “Of course. I was going to, but yes…of course I want you there.”