“Mona.” I followed them into the kitchen. “If you tell me what’s inside the bags, you can stay for dinner tonight.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” Zoe stepped in front of me to block me from going any further. “Just for that, she can stay for dinner no matter what.”
“Really? Thank you. Thank you.”
“But Archer has to leave the kitchen and leave the women to women’s work.”
“I resent that remark. You’re a lot more than a cook.”
“That doesn’t mean you get to see what she’s making.” Mona somehow found the bag of chocolate chips I’d hidden in the back of the wine chiller. She lifted the bag and tilted the whole thing in her mouth, then threw it away.
“I wanted those,” I said.
“You have four more hidden around the kitchen, and I haven’t touched a single one of them.”
Zoe laughed. “Let’s go, mister,” she said as she hustled me out of the kitchen.
I walked upstairs to see the boys. Andrew was standing up in his crib, holding on to the railing, and he stared right at me as he moved along the side of the crib, almost walking. I rushed in and grabbed him up so I could swing him through air. “My dear boy, you are a brute.” He giggled. “Come on. Show me what you can do.” I set him down in the crib. He fell flat on his butt and looked up at me. “Do it again.” I pulled on his wrist. “Come on. You can do it.” He squirmed away. “Aw, you’re no fun.”
Abel was sitting in his crib staring at me. “Oh, no. It’s the boogeyman.” I reached out to pull him up into the air and swing him around just like his brother, but he shrank back, his mouth opened, he reached up to wipe his face. “No, no, no. Don’t you dare.”
A tear fell down his cheek, but he didn’t scream. I took a chance and pulled him out of his crib so I could comfort him. I was still trying to perfect the gentle touch that I knew the boy needed. I pulled him out into the hall and rocked him back and forth. “Hush little soldier, don’t you cry.”
“How does the rest go?” Zoe walked up behind me.
“I haven’t decided yet. I just thought it up.”
“This is probably the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.” Zoe came closer and waved at Abel. “Hi.”
He grabbed her finger and held it.
“He likes you.”
“You think so?”
“He never does that with me.”
“It’s because they need a woman’s touch.” Mona came up behind me. Abel’s eyes followed her. When she got close enough to touch him, he reached out to her.
“He wants you to hold him.” I transferred Abel into her arms. His eyes started drooping after a moment, so Mona took him into his room where his brother was already fast asleep. Zoe disappeared downstairs, leaving me with Mona.
“What is she making?” I asked.
Mona chuckled. Then she turned around walked back downstairs without saying a word. I didn’t know what to do. The boys were asleep, and the girls were cooking. I ended up sitting on the couch in the living room, watching the feed from the boy’s nursery.
“Ahem,” Zoe cleared her throat from behind me.
“Yes?”
“Dinner is ready.”
“What is it?”
“Go sit down.” She walked back into the kitchen to make me a plate. Mona was already sitting, holding her knife and fork upright when I walked into the dining room.
“What is it?” I sat down at the head of the table.
“Nope.” She took out her phone and started tapping away while we waited.
I was starting to get impatient. I was hungry and anxious, and there was nothing I could do about it. After what seemed like a year, Zoe finally emerged carrying two covered platters. She glared at me, set the first platter down in front of Mona, who looked like she was ready to eat the platter itself. Then, finally, she set mine down and lifted the lid off it.
It was a Caesar salad. “You’re going to keep me waiting, aren’t you?”
“Yep.” Zoe walked back into the kitchen to make herself a plate.
Mona was already done with her salad. “She made the dressing herself. I took notes.” She showed me the recipe on her phone.
“I had no idea you could even do that.”
“It’s easy.” Zoe walked in with her salad on one arm and two platters on the other. She set Mona’s down first, then mine. Inside was a bowl of what looked like some sort of cream soup.
“Oh-hoh.” Mona clapped her hands together once and dug in.
I took a spoonful. Flavor exploded in my mouth. The thick, creamy broth had a tangy aftertaste. “You’re a goddess. What’s in this?”
Zoe smiled. “The secret is beer and bacon grease.”
“Keep going.” Mona snatched up a bay scallop and plopped it into her mouth, then took out her phone to write the recipe down.
“Nope, this one’s a secret.” Zoe took a bite of lettuce.
Mona lifted her bowl and slurped up the creamy liquid. Then she started on her scallops, potatoes, and what looked like thick chunks of bacon. “You have to tell me,” she said.
“You saw me make it.”
“I was eating the almonds.”
“Almonds?” I asked.
“Mona…” Zoe groaned.
“Sorry.” She focused on her scallops.
With every bite, my mouth tingled, salivating, until desire finally took hold and I slurped up the broth just like Mona did. Zoe and Mona exchanged a look when I set my bowl down. “More,” I demanded playfully.
“Coming right up.”
Mona rubbed her hands together excitedly. “You have no idea what you’re in for. This girl’s a keeper.”
“Thank you.” Zoe walked in and set my platter down first, then Mona’s and said, “Lift your lids.” She was watching to see what my reaction would be.
It didn’t matter how anxious I was before. I wanted to delay the moment as long as I could. It was the first surprise I’d enjoyed in a long time.
“Open it,” Zoe said.
I grabbed the handle and started to crack it open. I smelled the almonds first, then fresh herbs and something savory. There was a pile of yellow rice and a strip of almond encrusted salmon, along with fresh, sautéed green beans. I took my fork and cut a small piece of the salmon off. It had been covered in sea salt and herbs with the perfect, flaky crust.
“Mmm.” I let my head roll back and closed my eyes.
“You like it?” Zoe asked.
“How could he not?” Mona flipped a piece of fish up into the air and caught it with her mouth.
“You’re giving me the recipe,” I declared.
“I’ll think about it.” Zoe disappeared into the kitchen to get her food and brought back a bottle of wine. Mona immediately turned her attention away from her food and focused on putting as much wine as she could into her stomach.
I ate three pieces of fish and only drank half a glass of wine. By the time I was done, I was starting to get tired. I went upstairs and passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow. When I woke up, the blankets on Zoe’s side of the bed were pushed aside, and there was still a dent in her pillow, but she was gone.
I reached up to my cheek mindlessly, as I had done several times before, reminded of what’d happened at the street music festival. I flew out of bed. If she had gone home, she could be in danger. There was no way of knowing what that man would do. I’d done my best to keep her safe and guarded at all times. That was one of the reasons I kept her there all week, but I could never be truly certain that she was safe.
I checked the bathroom. The door was unlocked, and the light was off. “Zoe?” I called out.
There was no response. I pulled my robe off of the hook on the other side of the door and wrapped it around my body. Then I called her phone. It went straight to voicemail. “Shit.” I stomped downstairs. “Zoe?”
There was no answer. I ran into the living room. “Zoe?” She wasn’t in there either. I took a glance at the TV where the feed was playing. A
bel wasn’t in his crib. I rushed up to the nursery, taking the steps two at a time and opened the closed door.
“Abel?”
I let out a long sigh of relief. Zoe was lying in the rocking chair holding Abel in his arms. He was sleeping with his little hands clutching the collar of her shirt. I took a moment to drink it in, shocked that she’d taken such initiative. It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.
I didn’t think those boys had a chance. I didn’t want them to be like me, gruff and mean, too defensive and guarded to offer meaningful affection. I wanted them to have those long days with their mother, running around and sleeping in her arms. When Cara died, I never thought that I would be able to give them that, and it hurt.
The time a boy spends with his mother is sacred. It creates a lifelong bond and memories that would comfort them for the rest of their lives. Those memories would foster their understanding of warmth, love, and compassion. They would take those experiences and use them to be better fathers.
I never had a chance to experience that. My father was an Army man. He never hugged me or played with me. Usually, he only spoke in single word sentences, commanding me to do my chores and my homework. There was no intimacy, no connection. He was uncomfortable with those things. I didn’t want my boys to miss out on that experience. It wasn’t natural. Every boy should have a woman in his life.
Now Zoe was here, and those boys had a chance at that experience, if even for a moment. That was a valuable gift, more than I ever had. Even if all they got was that one night, at least I could say that somebody else cared about them as much as Mona and I did.
I was overwhelmed, humbled, and most of all, filled with desire. I took Abel out of her arms and set him in his crib so I could pick up Zoe and carry her into my room.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Zoe
I felt two strong hands reach under me and lift me into the air. When I opened my eyes, Archer was staring down at me, cradling me in his arms as he carried me up the stairs. He stopped and swept a strand of hair out of my eyes. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than when I walked in there and saw you sleeping with Abel in your arms.”
“I feel the same way with you looking down at me like that.”
“Come on.” He took me into his room and laid me down on the bed, then hopped up onto the other side. I turned to look at him. His green eyes, once filled with fire and intensity, were burning with an affectionate flame, studying me.
I felt his breath pound against my face before I tasted his lips. He drew it out, his tongue searching slowly, over my hard, then soft pallet. It met mine and curled over the tip, and we danced together, discovering each other as if for the first time.
His hands moved up my side, over the curve of my back, my shoulders, then around my neck. I wrapped my arm around his back and pulled him closer. I needed to feel his body pressed against mine. His cock was hard, bulging out of his pants. I could feel it pressing between my thighs.
He pulled his head back and ran his fingers through my hair. “I want you.” He pressed his body closer.
“You can have me.”
He stroked my chin. “I don’t just want your body, Zoe. I want all of you. What you’ve done for me, these boys—I don’t think I’ll ever stop trying to find ways to thank you. You have no idea…” His voice broke, and I lost control.
My lips swept over his, then found his neck, behind his ear, down toward the forest of hair peeking out of his shirt. I wanted him to know that I was as grateful to him as he was to me. He defended me against Mr. Beetle. He let me into his home and gave me the honor of being with his two boys. But that wasn’t even the best part.
I used to hate waking up in the morning and opening the bakery. Now I couldn’t wait to get up and see what the day would bring because I knew that Archer was there. It got me through all of the hard work I’d put into the bakery.
I reached down and opened his fly so I could pull out his cock. He rolled over onto his back, and let me slip my hand over the shaft. When I took it out, it stood up on its own, a towering monument to masculinity and the force that drove my pleasure.
“You don’t have to…”
I swallowed him whole, taking in every inch. It was hard at first when it hit the back of my throat, but I kept going because I needed to hear him sigh and moan as my lips moved over him, up the shaft then onto the head, where I pulled back and flicked my tongue over the tip.
He reached up and rested his hand on my shoulder. His voice drew out, a long and soft moan. I responded by grabbing his cock by the base, letting it slip over my palm while I turned my head, twisting and pulling on the foreskin.
The second his cock popped out of my mouth, he grabbed me under the arms. “Come here.” He pulled me up, closer to his lips so he could kiss me.
His cock ground against my thigh, his hips moving back and forth. While his lips moved around, behind my ear, where his teeth dug in deep. The static shock became a storm raging inside me, driving my tongue deeper into his mouth while his hand crept under my shirt to unhook my bra.
He threw it down onto the floor and with a roar, flipped me over so that he was on top of me. His shoulders blocked out everything else. He was so big, so solid. I’d be safe in his arms. He kissed down my neck, his teeth dragging along with his lips while he pulled up on my shirt.
When he threw it onto the floor, I sat up so he could see my naked chest. I wanted him to know that it was his. He could do whatever he wanted with it, and I didn’t care if he was gentle or not, just so long as I felt his touch and it came from the heart.
His cock was moving up the back of my jeans, his hand slipping up and down it, pressing in deeper. His hands found their way to my nipples. He didn’t clamp down on them like he did before or bite them. Instead, he let his fingers tease the edges, like flames tickling my skin.
His touch fell just below the threshold and back again. The pressure between my thighs became a tingling sensation, and I felt the moisture building up, filling the dry cracks and hidden places that’d been neglected for so long.
The next thing I knew, he’d flipped me over onto my back, and he was on top of me again. His cock pressed between my legs, pressed through my lips, and rested in the space between. He unbuttoned my pants and began raining kisses down on my sensitive, exposed neck.
He inched my pants down slowly, more focused on paying attention to the rest of my body. His tongue flicked over my nipple. Flint ground against steel, and a spark flew deep into my gut. I was flowing now. I clenched my legs closed, only to have them forced open.
He ripped my pants off and tore my panties away like tissue paper. “It’s not about where you’re going.” His thumb grazed my clit, and I threw my head back. “It’s about how you get there.” He slid down to the edge of the bed and dove his head between my legs, taking my clit in between his lips. His tongue became a bow, sliding over a violin string, and he was the first chair. The wet pressure, sliding across the surface, became gas to a fire.
I was throbbing, trying to take him in. He noticed the jolt instantly and drove his finger deep inside me. He could read my body and respond to its needs before I even knew what they were. I didn’t want to be selfish. I wanted to do the same for him, but he wasn’t going to let that happen. He was too giving.
His finger was moving faster now. He slid my clit through his lips and looked up to see the expression on my face.
“Oh,” I gasped.
He pulled his body up. His forehead pressed against mine. “I don’t think I’ve wanted anyone more than I want you.” He grabbed his cock by the base. The head ran over my lips and pierced through slowly.
The jolt started on the outside with a soft tickle that spread out down my thighs and into my body. He didn’t pound through. He let his dick pass over the ridges, through to that spot where he let it rest while he moved his lips over mine. It was like he said. It wasn’t about the destination; it was how we got there.
His
hands cupped my breasts, and his thumbs flitted over my nipples. He was pulling farther out now, slowly and gently. When he dove back in, a shiver spread throughout my body. Fire met ice, collided, and danced together, creating a steamy cloud of passion.
A shock rolled through me. He caught me off guard and slammed down deep, resting the head of his cock on my spot. As the tempo increased, the passion flared and became a part of me, fueled by his cock pressing further and further inside me.
His mouth never once left my lips. There was something carnal about the way he pushed his tongue through, in time with his cock. It was as if he couldn’t control himself. I didn’t think he could. His face was strained, and his hips were moving so fast that I lost track of what was happening.
The throbbing sensation became an ache. He needed to push further and drive into my core. He was pressing against it now, piercing the shell, moving into places that I didn’t even know existed. He knew my body better than I did.
His face was strained, and his teeth bared. Deep grunts were bubbling out of his mouth. His movements became fierce, a rush that pulled us both in. The world seemed to flash in and out as if the sensation itself was real and the rest was just a dream.
He pulled out, his cock dripping, dove down, and kissed me, then slammed through straight to my core. A wave of moisture poured out. His cock rested against my spot, spewing out warmth and jolts of lightning that spread over my skin and dug in deep, through my muscles, into my bone and marrow, surging through me.
I was stuck in a whirlpool, my head resting above the surface as the water rushed over my skin and pulled me deeper, sucking my head farther and farther down until I was drowning, falling now toward the earth, where I saw Archer lying by my side, his head propped up in his hands.
“I’ll never get tired of seeing that,” he said.
“It’s what you do to me.” I stood up and started getting dressed. “You’ve got this way—I’ve never felt anything like it.”
“I wish we could spend all day, every day exploring each other’s bodies. I could show you things you never thought possible.”
Daddy Boss (A Boss Romance Love Story) Page 88