“So the dude holding up your wall is with your sister?”
I tried to recall if he was talking about Shane or one of my other brothers.
“The one who still has the hard on for you,” he teased.
“You mean Shane? Yes, we dated for a little while, now it seems he’s married to my sister or so her rubber band rings indicated.” I rolled my eyes at the idea Cheyenne would ever marry.
“I’m not really surprised they’re together, he has a job and a car. It’s a complete bonus for her that he has them at the same time,” I joked.
“But you have higher expectations?” He cleared his throat, his face cautious.
“You could say that,” I agreed vaguely.
“I meant what I said earlier, about being your boyfriend, that’s what I want.” His face grew closer to mine, blue eyes flickering between mine as his hands cupped my cheeks. His skin was warm, soft and gentle, as if holding the tiniest of creatures.
“I have requirements, rules which I won’t bend or break for anyone.” I breathed, trying to hold my hormones in check.
“Such as,” he questioned, leaning closer still and licking his lips, the moisture inviting, desirable.
I closed my eyes tight, ignoring the way he made me feel, the way his skin set mine on fire.
“When I was a little girl, I read all the fairy tale books and watched all the movies. As I grew up, I knew these stories were just that, stories in a book.” He grasped my hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of my knuckles.
“Go on,” he whispered.
“I want to be adored, Dylan. I want to be the first thing you think about and the last as you close your eyes to sleep. I want to go to work and know you are keeping me in your heart and not just a number in your cell phone.” My eyes stung from the tears, which begged to be released.
“I want to have you hold me when life kicks me in the teeth and kick my ass when I get too big for my britches.” My voice cracked with the emotions I’d kept pent up for so long.
“But most of all, I want a passion that burns hot in my belly.” I searched for something in his face, something which would tell me to stop and throw him out.
“A passion so hot and intense, nothing could ever put it out.” I took a deep breath as I made my last request.
“Finally, I want to be kissed. So hard I can feel it three days later. So passionate I could write a song about it and so real I could keep it as a promise of your love for me.”
I had listened to all of the stories told behind closed doors, conversations of how he could fuck like a pro, yet never laid his lips to anyone else’s. If he could do that, kiss me the way I wanted, I would be his, body, mind and soul. I waited, searching for the moment when he would pull back and tell me to have a great weekend, riding off to his next stop on his journey.
“Then you better hold on, baby.”
He lurched forward, capturing my neck in his hands and pulling my face in his direction, closing off any distance separating our lips. Even though I wanted this, had anticipated the possibility of him kissing me, I was taken completely off guard. Dylan took advantage of my shocked state by tracing his tongue across my bottom lip. Testing the waters and finding no resistance, he dipped his warm, wet tongue into my mouth.
I tried to be in the moment, to enjoy how possessive and in control he was. But in the back of my mind, I could hear the women of his past chanting over and over, “This isn’t real. Dylan Morgan doesn’t kiss.” But it was real and this was my life and, goddamn it, I’ was going to live it until it was taken from me.
His skin was warm, so deliciously warm. My fingers drank him in, diving into the hair at the back of his neck and pulling it slowly, as I feel every centimeter of the short strands. My thumb flicked the skin of his lower earlobe, causing a moan to resonate from deep within his chest, the vibrations humming around parts of my body, which were begging to be touched.
He explored my face with his fingers, his thumb circling across the apple of my cheeks, mapping each side. This man is gifted with not only the ability to drop panties with a single smile, but to bring me to such heights even with all of my clothing on.
This may be new territory for him, but it’s one he has conquered with very little effort. Once his lips covered mine, they remained intact, no adjusting of positions to get a better feel. He locked in on my sighs and moans, learning from the responses I gave and never allowing me to pull away or take things further.
It was our first kiss. One that lasted an immeasurable amount of time, but one that not only took my breath away, it gave me a new life. One I never wanted to leave. One I hoped would never end.
Brothers don’t necessarily have to say anything to each other- they can sit in a room and be together and just be completely comfortable with each other.
~Leonardo DiCaprio
We had been sitting around, much like we had when we were younger, teasing each other and throwing shit at one another. Chase had checked into his new command, gotten his stuff all situated, and then headed over to my house to crash.
Claire came by on her way to pick up her friends, they were going to a bookstore where some famous author was signing her latest book.
It funny how you can go through your entire life thinking you have it all planned out, convincing yourself there is no way in hell you can be any happier than you are right then.
And suddenly this incredible human being comes into your life, showing you so many possibilities you’d never dreamed of ever wanting.
I had no tragedy, which closed my mind off to kissing, never had a bad moment, which centered around a kiss. It was just so easy to convince myself I would never miss it. And this would have been true, it had been true. I never needed the intimacy of being that close to a person you cared about, sharing an act, which could be more erotic than fucking.
Once I started kissing Claire, it was nearly impossible to stop. The sun was rising before she’d finally pushed me out her front door, her lips swollen, cheeks red and raw from the stubble which formed as I’d devoured her.
“Hey, handsome,” she called as she opened the garage door. Austin laughed his ass off when she did it. Saying she was the kind of girl he could stand to keep around. I shut him up when I cleared the distance between us, wrapped her in a tight embrace, and then kissed the fuck out of her.
She sat right there with us, drinking a bottle of water as she enjoyed my family. She was just about to leave when dad’s car pulled into the drive, and he and momma got out of the car, heading into my shop.
“Well, Miss Claire, this is about to get real,” Chase, warned her, before standing up, his eyes never leaving the entrance to the shop.
Picture three grown men, all of whom stood over six feet in height, could bench press a Buick if we pulled our strength together, yet we all stood in apprehension of a woman who weighed perhaps one hundred pounds soaking wet.
“Dylan,” she called, just as she stepped into the shop. “I mean to have a word with you.” Those words she wanted to have with me, caused the line of sweat which was currently running down my back.
She rounded the corner, seeing first Claire, who was cleaning up the trash from lunch, and second, her son who, the last she knew, was fighting a war nearly a world away.
If I were a betting man, comfortable with losing his hard earned money, I would have put my mark on her hollering over her baby boy being in the room, safe from the stray bullets of an enemy he would never meet.
I would have lost the bet, as the first move she made was to hug Claire and tell her how wonderful it was to see her and how she shouldn’t let the evil words of an old woman like Miss Pettigrew get to her. She proceeded to whisper something into her ear, leaving Claire with a partial smile and rose-colored cheeks.
“Now don’t anyone of ya think for a second I didn’t notice my youngest sneak into town like a boy who had broken his curfew.” She walked with a smile on her face in Chase’s direction, who opened his arms wide
, as her steps increased to a flat out run.
After several minutes of them hugging, Momma crying and Chase nodding yes, she announced there would be a celebration dinner at their house the following night.
“Claire, this means you as well, dear,” Momma added, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief Dad handed her.
“Hey, Momma?” Chase called, his shirt wet from her tears.
“Yes, darlin’?”
“Can I bring a date?” He scratched the back of his neck, his left hand in his pocket, rocking back and forth on his heels. Not a month ago, he stood in the desert, an M4 strapped across his back and daring the enemy to take a crack shot at him, not an ounce of fear to be found. What would his platoon say if they could see this version?
Priscilla Morgan may be small in stature, but she’s fierce when it comes to her family. Chase bringing a date to a family get together is equivalent to a respectable guest bringing a good bottle of wine or bouquet of flowers. He’s never alone or not for long at least. He was either in a relationship or searching for the next girl.
“Of course, there’s always room at our table.”
“Do you think she bought that skirt in the children’s section?” Austin leaned over, whispering in my ear. From the moment we’d arrived, he and Dad have taken pot shots at Harmony, the new love in Chase’s life.
According to him, after she made sure he wasn’t some crazy stalker, which honestly made no sense to either Austin, or myself she was the one who’d emailed him first.
“I think I saw that same skirt on a stripper a month ago.” It was designed to be a facetious statement, but received an odd recognition on Austin’s face. He covered it up quick, but the seasoned cop in me noticed it right off. I knew he would lie to me and tell me I was imagining it.
If I knew Austin like I did, he would hole himself up in his office until he worked out his thoughts.
Dad had cornered Claire, taken her by the hand as soon as her perfect toes crossed the threshold. During the brief conversation he had with her at the restaurant, he’d learned she was quite knowledgeable in the distilling process.
Her family admittedly embarrassed Claire. She was concerned at first when Dad wanted to show her his ‘legalized’ home still. It was nothing more than a few glass tubes with a Bunsen burner underneath. She was gracious about it, showing him, in great detail, how the mechanics of an actual still worked.
I will, for the rest of my days, be grateful to my Dad for taking her out to his garage to show her the refurbished still he’d received from a client of his. She took one look at the antique copper pot and run her delicate fingers along the cracks in the lines. With a tremble in her voice and the bravery of a thousand men, she turned to him and said, “With only a few hundred dollars, you could make a good living on the side; if your day job ever fell through.”
Momma called us back into the house, the smell of her Sunday pot roast permeating the entire house. Sitting down at the table, I noticed she had laid out great grandma’s wedding china.
Growing up, when the holidays would roll around, she would bring out her own wedding china or a set she found at an estate sale, but never great grandma’s plates. She believed, when the time was right, those plates would help us decide if a girl we brought to dinner was wife material.
According to local legend, those plates, along with a silver comb and brush set, were brought over from Europe as a dowry payment during the Revolutionary war. The woman, who commissioned for them to be made, had a theory that if the potential bride could stand on one of the teacups and not break the cup, she would be considered acceptable for matrimony. I highly doubted anyone would be standing on one of them today, considering how old they were.
“Miss Harmony, tell us about your family,” Momma spoke from her seat at the end of the table, her pearls barely touching her collar. Her utensils in her hand just as her Momma showed her and her Momma before her. Her eyes locked on the slice of roast she was cutting into a million pieces and shoving around her plate. I wonder if she regretted using great Grandma’s dishes, wishing she had left them in the china cabinet alongside the comb and brush set.
Harmony, however, was currently using her butter knife to check her teeth. She was droning on and on about how the dentist she worked for had a current special for teeth whitening and veneers. “Ma died when I was young, Daddy didn’t sign my birth certificate, so I don’t know much about him. But you know what? I can get old Doc to cut you a really nice deal on whitening those coffee stains away.”
Claire stopped chewing her food, while they remained downcast, I could see her eyes grow large. As the silence at the table grew, Claire shifted the conversation in a fashion, which will forever be written in the best plays of the year.
“Miss Priscilla, your teeth are perfect. Besides, I heard one of our doctors speak of how the bleach they use to whiten, can actually cause an imbalance of hormones, which results in a reduction in breast size.”
Harmony’s hands flew to her chest, fondling them to check to see if this was true. Austin began a choking fit to cover his laughter, while Dad sat with his head down, his body trembling from his own laughter. Poor Chase shook his head several times, but remained silent. And I placed my arm along the back of Claire’s chair, leaning over to thank her quietly.
For the next while, we were saved from anymore bleach or fake teeth by Claire and Austin speaking of a new program that Lainie was working with. He was very excited to know she was so close to the woman who had made such large steps in creating the program which would have rivaled his own. Just as he and Claire were about to exchange Lainie’s information, Harmony grabbed my Momma’s hand.
“Oh my, God, baby!” She practically pulled momma’s arm out of socket. “I want a ring just like this, only bigger.” Her voice grew so high pitched, I was certain only hound dogs in the next county over could hear her. Momma jerked her hand back as Harmony asked her, with a completely straight face, if she had gotten it from the Avon catalogue.
“Harmony, bless your heart,” Momma patted her hand. “But no, this was passed to me by Mr. Morgan’s mother. It’s been in his family for a number of generations.”
Claire stood and began to clean up the table, ignoring Dad’s protests that she was their guest, while Harmony sat back and looked around the room. Chase took the hint and helped get his girlfriend back home.
“Oh my, Lord.” Claire laughed and she fell onto the couch in my den. “I thought Miss Priscilla was going to stab that girl in her damned eye at one point.”
I tumbled after her, wrapping her tight in my arms and closing my eyes as I lost myself in the feel and smell of this girl. “See, you didn’t corner the market on crazy families.”
I pulled her face to mine, not waiting to hear her rebuttal, and captured her lips with mine. From the first moment I kissed Claire, the addiction had taken over. I had never anticipated such a simple thing could bring so much pleasure. Something I had been denying myself for far too long.
The fingers of my right hand were buried deep in the silky tresses of her hair; it’s thick strands falling against the back of my arm. My left cupped her cheek, caressing the softness I found there. I traced her jawline with my fingers, feeling the muscles as she returned my kiss, her tongue competing for dominance with my own.
Claire’s right leg covered my hip, wrapping her calf around my lower back. I didn’t want to ruin the moment, yet I wanted to take her to my bed and devour her, claim her. But more importantly, I didn’t want to scare her off. I didn’t want her think all I want from her is to fuck her, which I did, but not just once and not in the way I had done with other women.
“Bedroom?” She purred as her lips broke from mine, nipping my jawline, and then traveling to my Adams apple. My body kicked in as my brain went on vacation, not believing what my ears had heard.
I didn’t question her or check to see if she was certain, not wanting to take the risk of this being a hormone clouded mirage. I picked her up, not allowing
her to remove her lips from my neck, and, as fast as I could, ran up the staircase, placing her softly on my bed.
This was another first. No female had ever been here, in my bed or in the position Claire was in. About to be even more beautiful as she unravels under me, repeating my name over and over, as if a prayer on her lips.
Her eyes were soft and dark from the lack of light in the room and the way I was touching her, I hoped. Taking her hands in my right, I placed them above her head, moving my body to where I was eye level with her chest, and slowing unbuttoned her shirt with my other hand, as my eyes searched hers. Seeing no trepidation, I parted her shirt, revealing her white lace bra. She was like a virgin on her wedding night, metaphorically speaking, as she’d admitted to being with Shane.
Raising the elastic band, my fingers grazed the skin around her nipple. I’ve seen my fair share of breasts; some so big you’d swear they would suffocate you. Others so small, you questioned if it was a boy you were looking at. Claire’s, the one I had the honor of meeting, was neither.
I wanted to savor them, to swirl my tongue around her nipple as I closed the rest off with my lips. Her back arches, followed by a deep intake of breath, bringing her chest closer to my face. Nipping to see if she likes a little pain, her hands grasp the back of my head and I know that’s a yes. I alternate between circling with my tongue, scraping with my teeth and sucking her nipple between my lips. I can feel her grinding her core against my thigh. I pulled her bra from the other tit and treat it with the same respect as the other.
Heading south, I can feel her body vibrating, impatient with the speed at which I’m descending.
“Patience, baby,” I murmured against her stomach. Futile words on my part as Claire shifted her hips, bringing her fingers to the snap of her pants, tugging them apart. In three seconds she had her pants freed, her creamy skin beggin’ for me to taste and devote as much attention to it as I did her nipples.
Before I can go any further, I feel her fingernails at the nape of my neck, tugging my shirt collar. I pull back to tug it off, as she sits up and tossed her shirt and bra to the floor behind me, placing me in a state of shock at how truly beautiful she is. Crawling to her knees, she wrapped both of her arms around me, as her lips take mine hostage. Being in control suits Claire and makes her more irresistible in my eyes. While her lips and tongue dance with mine, my hands remove her pants and panties, allowing them to join the rest of her clothing on the floor.
Absolute Power (Southern Justice #1 Page 28