Communion (On My Knees Series Book 3)

by Ella James

  “I told Mom she could come over, see the baby,” I whisper. “If it’s not okay, I’ll just go by and chat and she can come another time. It was impulsive.”

  V’s lips curl into a dreamy smile little smile. “I told someone from Netflix we might do a documentary.”

  “What?”

  The baby’s hand twitches, and I shut up, even as my eyebrows arch up to my hairline.

  V grins. “Sorry,” he mouths.

  I ruffle his hair. “I’ll need details on that.” I lean down and brush my lips over his. “Be back soon with Mom. You good?”

  He smiles, soft and sleepy. “Very.”

  Rayne and baby are still sleeping when I get back with Mom. He looks so perfect lying there on his back, like a prince who should be sleeping on the forest floor, a soft breeze fluttering his hair over his brow. I want to lie down with him and pull him against me. He’s not too close to baby, but his arm is sort of arched around her without touching her.

  "Now that's a picture," Mom whispers. She gets it with her phone, and I grin, taking a photo of her at the same time.

  She beckons me toward the kitchen. "We should let your sweetheart sleep. He's probably exhausted."

  “Probably,” I agree.

  "At least he’s not postpartum.” Mom winks.

  "Do you have tips for us?" I grin, leaning back against the counter.

  "Oh, I don't know. It's been thirty-some odd years since I cared for a baby that small. She is beautiful. How sure are you that you can keep her?"

  "My gut says it'll work out, and the lawyers seem optimistic. But we're not positive yet."

  "I'll be praying." She says it like a promise.

  I give her a hug, and she says, "Do you have what you need for her?"

  Comically, the doorbell rings. "I bet that's it right now. Rayne said he ordered some stuff."

  Vance and Eden rouse as we walk back into the living room. V holds Eden, who looks so tiny in his big hands. She just blinks around at all of us.

  “What perfection,” Mother declares.

  “Let me get the door,” I say.

  "I'll do that." Vance hands me yawning Eden. "I don’t mind."

  V goes to the door, and I pass Eden off to Mom and hurry after, realizing we don’t know for sure that it’s the baby stuff delivery; it could be any number of blights—but it is the baby supplies. I’m relieved to see a man in a blue shirt talking to V. After a few seconds confirming he’s not a bad actor, I go back into the den, where my mom is holding Eden close.

  I snap a picture.

  "Smells just like a baby,” Mom says.

  "That's a relief.”

  I join Vance in directing two movers toward a guest room that's across the hall from ours.

  "She's not sleeping in here," I tell him as I note a baby crib.

  "I know." He grins.

  I'm shocked to see how much he ordered.

  "This is beautiful,” I say, admiring the textures and the fabrics; she’s got a rug that’s a map of the world, several white-washed, dainty little tables, plus a matching dresser, and several sets of long, thick, lilac curtains. “You did a great job, Daddy."

  He looks down at his feet like he does when he’s shy. "Thanks."

  I tip the movers and watch them leave via the security cam view on my phone as Rayne sits in the plush armchair that doubles as a rocking chair.

  He holds his arms out, and I gladly sink down to my knees and wrap my arms around his waist. I lean my head against his thigh. He feels warm through his clothes.

  "Hey there, Papa." He cups my chin and lifts my face up. “I’ve been missing you."

  I kiss his knee, smelling his Vance smell that I love so much, and wrap my arms around him again. Once I start hugging him, I can't seem to stop.

  He hugs me back harder. "We're still okay, my Skywalker.”

  I can't help a rueful smile against his warm chest. "How do you always know?" I half-groan.

  "I'm a Luke McDowell expert."

  I rise up on my knees, so I can touch him more easily. I run my hand behind his nape and into his short, soft hair. "You're an angel," I say hoarsely.

  "Just a guy who found his person." He smiles, and it’s so romantic, I can’t help a big grin.

  "Man, I want you under me."

  Vance grins. "Dude, your mom is in the den."

  "Let me go peek out there. Is the baby fed and stuff?"

  "She’s not now,” he says, “but she will be if your mom can feed her."

  “I’ll go make a bottle. You go to our room and wait.”

  21

  Vance

  "Are we savages, Sky?" I ask him.

  "When grandma's over, we should take advantage,” Luke says.

  "Shouldn’t we be out there talking to her?” I ask. “What if she hears us?"

  He kisses my mouth harder. "We're in the closet." Luke laughs. "Literally only physically, this time. She's not going to hear us, and I need you. I missed you today. I need to feel you."

  I need him, too. I just don't want to fuck this up with my new mother-in-law. Then Sky's mouth is wrapped around my cock, and I can't do anything but lean against a bean bag he's got back here, my ass on a blanket he spread over the carpet.

  "That's right," he says, pulling his lips off me. "Someone likes to get their cock sucked."

  "I'm gonna put it in you."

  "Not this time," he says as he licks me and I groan. "I want to shove into that tight hole of yours…”

  "Lucky for you," I manage, "I wanna get fucked."

  So that's what he does. He pushes in, and I'm already on the verge of coming from the first second. It's been a while for us—almost twenty-four whole hours.

  "Oh fuck."

  "You're so damn tight, Vanny."

  He pushes in deeper, and I'm pre-coming in a warm spurt. I feel my body start to tremble as he kisses my throat.

  "You're so beautiful." It's a groan. "I'm about to come. You ready?"

  Sky’s hips are moving faster, and he's filling me deeper each time. The tip of him drags over my prostate, lighting me up like a fucking light bulb—if light bulbs moaned and shook and wrapped their husband's head against their chest and dribbled on their own abs, lifting their hips because they're desperate to get off.

  "Fuck. Oh Jesus."

  "Wrong guy," he laughs. But I can feel him trembling, too, can feel our sweat-slicked bodies both pebbling with chills.

  He kisses my collarbone. "I love you, husband."

  Then he rams me like he means it, and we're both so fucking loud. We come at the same time, and he stays in me for a minute, looking sated.

  "You okay?" Sky whispers, lifting his eyes open.

  "I can take you, Papa."

  He grins, looking embarrassed. "You can't use it that way."

  "Why the fuck not?"

  "Because—I don’t know...she'll know."

  He pulls out slowly, and I squeeze my dick.

  "Lemme clean that up." Sky licks me clean, then cups my balls, pushing them back a little. "I love pumping you full of cum."

  "I love when you do. Such a dirty boy I am."

  It really does feel good, the aftermath of getting fucked by McD. Kind of sore and achy, a little sting-y, but then go deeper and there's like...this ball of warmth that makes me feel so fucking full. It feels goddamned elicit. Gives you this sensation that if you move the wrong way, some might spill out, so you gotta clench until you can get to the shower. Always makes my dick twitch.

  Sky wraps his hand over my cock. "Noticed that dick of yours doesn’t go down after you get fucked like it does after you do the fucking."

  I close my eyes. "Shut up."

  He laughs, his eyes sparkling. "Every word I say, it makes you harder."

  I close my eyes, trying to think of baseball. But his hand comes under my balls, holding them in his big, warm palm...using his fingers to roll them around. I can't stifle a moan.

  "I feel like maybe you could use a little finger action. Wha
t do you think? Let me stuff two fingers in and tease that little hot spot of yours? Rub around where you’re already wet and full of my cum."

  "We've gotta...relieve your mother," I grunt as he rubs his fingertip lightly around my slick hole.

  "That's not who I want to relieve." He laughs, the sound low and husky. "This is a thing, V. Every word I say is getting you more pumped. Look at this." He closes his hand around my shaft, gliding up toward my swollen, slick tip. "Someone's made for taking my cock. Getting loaded up with cum. I think next up is someone wearing that plug back to the church. I would love to see you struggling to get around your atrium, with that hand pushing down on your cock through your pants. You'd be there waiting for me."

  "If you ever came,” I say.

  Luke slides a finger into me. "Oh, we'd both come."

  He pushes slow and steady, rubbing till he brushes my p-spot, which makes my body buck off the floor.

  "Oh God…"

  "You like a light touch, don't you, baby? Just a little whisper of a rub like...this here."

  He does it again, and I can feel my balls tauten and throb.

  "I wanna stretch you, though. Leave you just a little sore, so when you're out there on the couch holding a baby, you're still feeling me. Make you feel a little dirty."

  I moan in reply...as he pushes another finger in and strokes me everywhere, the feeling like electric heaven.

  "Fuck," I whimper.

  He closes his mouth over my cockhead, and my dick is weeping cum. He swallows it down.

  "Mmmm."

  I'm on the verge already. I lift my hips, and he adds a third finger.

  "Fuck."

  "Stretching that hole...but doing this, too." He teases my prostate, making me ooze from my cockhead. He laps at it.

  "Tastes so good." He sucks my tip deeper, pushing my p-spot again, and my whole body shivers.

  "Ahhh."

  I bend my knees and start to push up off the floor, lifting my ass.

  He gives me another warm suck, and I'm done. I feel him choke a little as he swallows. Then he's laughing as he pulls his mouth off me.

  Sky draws his fingers out, and when he sits back on his haunches, I grin at his huge erection.

  "Mm-hmm. Now we know who really wants a jerk-off."

  His eyes close, and for a second, his face is strained. When he opens them, he's grinning like the cat that ate the canary. "I want in again."

  "Wanna make me sore with your damn mother out there." I laugh, and he shakes his head, looking down as he palms himself. "You don't have to," Sky says, husky. His eyes meet mine, and he looks drunk on lust as his lids fall lower and he murmurs, "But if you do, you'll be tired enough to sleep through Eden's cries tonight, and I'll do every feeding."

  "What?" I laugh again, a little hoot, and he beams. "Didn't think I'm letting Daddy do all the work, did you?"

  "You're the one with the long-hours job, Sky."

  "I'm the Papa. I thought we could do every other night."

  Somehow, he looks even sexier holding his long cock, talking like that about our baby.

  "That's...kind of awesome, honestly." I like sleeping. "Only if it doesn't throw your sleep off, though."

  "It’s all good."

  I roll over, showing him my ass—something I know will get him hotter. I spread myself open for him, and I hear his low groan. "God, you're sexy all used like that."

  His finger rubs around my hole, and I groan at the ache.

  "Sorta hurt?"

  I smile against the blanket. "Good hurt. Come in, big boy," I tease.

  "It's too much." His voice is whispered. He sounds guilty.

  "Never too much of you."

  At that, he pushes into me. I'm grunting, gripping the blanket, more raw this time than the other two, and somehow that just lights my shit up. I come fast, and so does he, and afterward he rolls me over on my back and kisses my mouth.

  "Love you, Mr. McDowell."

  "Love you more, my husband."

  I get a quick shower, and he goes out to visit with his mom. By the time I make my way into the living area, Sky is feeding Eden and his mom is looking on admiringly. I grab a snapshot on my phone and Mrs. McDowell grins up at me.

  "Another McDowell boy." She sounds almost wistful.

  "That's me, I guess." I smile, feeling slightly shy. Also, nervous that she somehow heard us.

  "I'll have to have you boys over for dinner for a celebration. Maybe some of my friends. What would you think?"

  I look to Sky, who looks at me, and we both say, “Sounds good,” which makes Mrs. McDowell laugh.

  We spend a little while longer talking, Sky’s mom telling a few funny stories about him when he was little, and then she tells Sky that her ride is in the driveway.

  “What?” He looks puzzled.

  “I called for a driver,” she says, winking.

  After we see her out, we pile on the couch together. Sky is holding Eden, looking so damn gorgeous in his work clothes with a soft smile on his lips as he peers down at her.

  "I think it’s going to happen," he tells me.

  "Yeah?" I touch the baby's soft arm.

  "Yeah. She's a single woman," he says. "She has bipolar, the kind where people get manic and do things that are out of character. From what I’m being told, she doesn’t totally remember last week and the week before. But she does need money. Says she wants to go to school to do computer programming."

  “I want to talk to her.”

  "Maybe soon if things progress and the team says it's okay."

  "Let's go in the baby's room,” I suggest. “You can rock her and I'll set some stuff up."

  22

  Luke

  Total members, August 2018: 48,012

  Total members, August 2019: 45,329

  Total new members from June 2019 to August 2019: 1,098

  Net loss.

  The words haunt me every time I look at the books. Doesn’t matter what I tell myself.

  Loss.

  Something has been lost at Evermore. More than one thing. Members and money. Support. Momentum. And it's because of me. It's because I chose my happiness over the organization’s future. I chose me over the mission I've been called to do. This is my calling, my life calling, and I put it all in jeopardy so I could sleep in Vance's arms. So I could wake up to his kisses. So I could put my dick in him whenever I want to and feel his tongue stroke mine and touch his soft hair.

  Desires of the flesh. That's what I picked over my calling.

  My team of advisers—including the church's internal P.R.—told me I should be honest tonight at the Q&A.

  "Be as honest as possible about everything," Sabrina told me. "That's what you're known for. That's what they want. And what we all need. Honesty."

  So what do I say? That I'm seeing a psychologist? I've worried maybe the world is better off without me in it since I was a little kid? I can't sleep some nights without two melatonins, even though I've got the love of my life pressed up against me, stroking my hair? Maybe they would like to know that I feel guilty every day for my choices, but I can't tell my husband because he'd feel guilty.

  There's so many things that I can't tell him now that he's my husband. More than there ever used to be.

  I've been up here at my desk for hours, but I'm not sure what to say in the small talk I’ll give before I start taking their questions.

  I think I slept an hour last night—even though it was Rayne’s turn for baby duty. I'm tired, and I feel weary to the core. One of my dad's friends emailed and said he thought my father would be very disappointed. It was one of those guys who came to Tahoe that weekend.

  I feel the old way, but I can’t tell anyone. Like I’m slipping under water, and I can’t open my mouth to say so. Derek says it's a ‘trigger’ reaction. Almost like PTSD. I can't believe that, though. Not really. I've had a life of privilege. My parents were almost always supportive and loving.

  I scrub my fingers through my hair and let a breath o
ut. Maybe I'll just wing it. I do that sometimes, and no one on my team worries when I do. I think well under pressure. It's one of my particular skills. One of the main ones that's enabled me to do this so effectively.

  And you do. I hear V's voice say the words. You do it damned effectively, McD.

  "You're the talent. You're the star. You're young and beautiful and charismatic. Honest. Kind. You're a catch. I caught you, but they get to share you. Let yourself be loved by them. And trust it."

  That's what he told me before I drove here. He and Eden won't be here till around—I check my watch—right now.

  I lay my head on my desk. Cover my head with one arm.

  God, please. What if I can't do it, I just get up there and freeze?

  "This is soul-deep," Derek told me last time we talked. "Think of what happened to you as an event that left little hooks in your soul. And when you move around and knock them on something, they get uncomfortable. What we need to do here is remove them. One by one. Through logic and mindfulness and addressing your feelings."

  "I don't have any feelings. They were misguided; my dad made a bad choice, but he didn’t mean to. Simple as that."

  I'm a liar. Even Derek knows it.

  Lord, please. Just help me know the answers. And not sound like a crock.

  Do what you always do, a voice in my head tells me.

  I don't feel it, though. I don't feel anything. I walk over to the windows, where I watch a sea of people drifting across the lawn. Walking into the church. To listen to me talk about gay marriage and the Bible. Some of them are here to poke holes in what I say. To tell themselves or me or others that I'm full of crap. Because I'm biased.

  "Wouldn't a gay man say it's okay to be gay?"

  Talk shows, Bible studies, and forums the world over have been buzzing with that question—or so I’m told by P.R.

  If I question whether being out and gay is Biblically okay and say I'm just doing what I think is best for me, it's a condemnation. It could even cause violence.

  But you believe it is okay. You believe that deep down. You're going to have to say it, Sky babe.

  Vance is in my head. It's kind of cute.