Copyright © 2016 by Jordan Marie

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including but not limited to being stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, groups, businesses, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover Design: Robin Harper of Wicked By Design

Cover Model: Jase Dean

Photographer: Wander Aguiar

Interior Design & Editing: Daryl Banner

DISCLAIMER: This book is intended for mature audiences. It contains adult language and explicit sexuality. Not intended for readers under the age of 18. Reader discretion advised.

DEDICATION

To my soon-to-be-here granddaughter: Penny, may you always believe in the impossible. Spread your wings and never be afraid to make that jump.

Jordan

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Epilogue

Happy Trail (Sneak Peek)

Unlawful Seizure (Bonus Book)

FOREWORD

It’s that time again! Thank you for taking a chance on reading White. This book has been a labor of love and I’m in a love/hate relationship with White. I rewrote this book four times, and by the last time I told him he was either happy with his story or he could shut it. (Yes the voices in my head are real to me. It’s a problem—or a blessing.)

I hope you love this couple as much as Gray and CC. Kayla has issues. She had to work through them and as much as I wanted to shake her at times, abuse is hard to put behind you. Her insecurities and her vulnerabilities reminded me a lot of myself.

Over the next few months my back catalog will be leaving the Kindle Unlimited program and will be distributed wide. It was a decision I made after careful consideration and much thought. I may try a few wide releases on new books, but I will always sell on Amazon and offer a 99 cent special if you buy it on release day. I definitely understand how it’s hard for a reader to come by money to purchase the books they want. It’s why I’ve always been a strong supporter of KU in general.

At the end of White and Kayla’s story you will find a bonus book. This one is Unlawful Seizure, my first book I wrote as Baylee Rose. Max is kind of special to me and he is a bad boy. This is spicier and more instant love than my other books. So there’s your warning.

Please let me know how you liked my book! I love hearing from readers. All my stalking links will be at the end of the book.

All my love and gratitude,

Jordan

CHAPTER 1

KAYLA

“You’re what??!”

I hold the phone away from my ear, wincing. That man can yell.

“Calm down, White. I said, I’m getting married.”

“Who the fuck to? Kayla, if you’re still seeing that bastard Crenshaw after he…”

“I’m not seeing Bobby.”

“Damn it! That was only a month ago. How are you getting married?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Well, it just so happens I seem to have a lot of free time on my hands, so explain it to me.”

“Yeah, right. Football season starts next week. I may not watch that crap, but I keep up with the MVP in last year’s big game.”

“Obviously not enough, or you would know I messed up my fucking shoulder again two weeks ago. I’m out for at least another six weeks.”

“Oh no, White! I’m so sorry. You didn’t tell me! Why didn’t you at least text me?”

“If I had, you would have told me how I shouldn’t have been riding bulls in the off season and trying to conquer two sports. I already had my trainers, general manager and doctor’s harping enough.”

“I’m sorry. I just don’t like knowing you’re taking chances and I panic, worrying something will happen to you. I know you’re an adrenaline junkie, but bull riding is dangerous.”

“Ironic that I got hurt playing football then, right?”

“I’m sorry White. I wish you’d told me. I would have been there.”

“You were dealing with enough, cleaning Crenshaw out of your life… or at least I thought you were. So come on, Kayla, tell me what’s going on.”

“You’re just going to get mad.”

“Tell me,” he growls, and I take a breath to shore up my courage. I’ve been best friends with White Hall Lucas since I was fifteen years old and his brother Green broke my heart. I was all set to go to the prom with Green and he stood me up when his girlfriend Cynthia suddenly wanted him back. Green welcomed her back with open arms, even though the bitch only did it because Tommy Haynes, the star quarterback, hurt his leg and couldn’t dance. Green was kind of an idiot when it came to Cynthia. According to White, he still can be, which is just plain sad.

I’ve come to love the Lucas family—from all of White’s brothers that their mother Ida Sue named after colors in a crayon box, to his sisters who are all named after flowers. And his mother, despite all of her far-out-there ways of naming her kids and her craziness, is one of the sweetest people you ever want to meet. They’re all kind, loving people who make you laugh and open their doors and hearts to you. Above them all, though, is White. White took me to the prom in his brother’s place. He dried my tears as I cried over his brother. He took me fishing and we just sort of began this friendship that’s lasted for fifteen years. A friendship I love. A friendship I hate. Hate because, though White may see me as his best friend—and I am, as he is mine—the truth is… I love him. I’m horribly, desperately, and irrevocably in love with White, and he doesn’t have a clue. I can’t tell him because there’s no way I can ruin our friendship. If he knew how much it has killed me through the years as he went from one woman to the next, it would change the way he sees me, and I can’t let that happen. White isn’t attracted to me. He never has been. He sees me as a buddy and has from day one. It sucks, but I’ve learned to adapt. I’ve had to; it’s the only way I can keep White in my life, and that is the most important thing.

“Kay? Talk to me,” he says, and the concern in his voice is my undoing, just like always.

“I’m lonely, White.”

“What?”

“I’m lonely. I’m not like you. I actually like being with another person. I enjoy quiet nights at home watching television. I like sharing a pizza and watching the big game. I enjoy being with just one person and knowing what to expect from them. I miss it. I’m lonely,” I tell him, wondering if he even realizes that the one person I do that the most with is him. It’s a stupid question, because he doesn’t. He never has understood that we spend more time together than any married couple, which was another reason I accepted Tommy’s proposal. I have to forget White. I have to get a little distance from him. I have to. I can’t keep going on like this.

“Being lonely isn’t a reason to get married, Kay. That’s not a good reason to tie yourself to someone. What if you—?”

“I want children, White.”

“What?” White asks, acting as if he doesn’t believe it, and maybe he doesn’t. He’s never wanted them. He talks all the time about how Green’s child destroyed his brother’s life. I don’t see it that way, but White never understood. “Kay, honey, you have plenty of time to have kids.”

“I’m almost thirty years old, White. I may have plenty of time, but I want to have them while I’m young enough to do things with them. I want to start living my life and I want a family. I want a home with kids, a husband, and a dog…”

“Damn it, Kay, you can’t just wake up one day and decide you want to get married. It’s not done that way.”

“I didn’t just do it one day. You just haven’t listened. I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

“Who is this man? You can’t really know him.”

I take a breath, knowing this will just make White worse. “Tommy Haynes.”

“Cynthia’s ex?” he almost screams. I wince and hold the phone away from my ear. It really is too early to be having this conversation.

“He hasn’t been with Cynthia in years,” I remind him.

“What the fuck ever. That man is as shady as they come.”

“He is not! He’s a good guy and I like him.”

“See? That right there! Like. You can’t like the man you marry, Kay. You’re supposed to love him.”

“I’ll grow to love him.”

“Or hate him. Don’t do this, Kayla. I’m begging you. Think about it for a little while. I didn’t even know you and Tommy were dating. Did you keep it hidden from me?”

“Do you blame me?”

“We don’t keep things from each other!”

“Like you didn’t keep the fact that you slept with my sister Rachel from me?”

Oops. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I really and truly didn’t. I wonder if he can tell the bitterness in my voice. Can he hear the hurt? That’s the real reason I agreed to marry Tommy. White sleeping with Rachel was the final straw, the shining beacon that said I was wasting my life dreaming about a man who would never see me as more than a buddy.

“She told you that?” White says quietly.

I swallow. Did he ask her not to? Is that why she hasn’t mentioned it? God, why does it feel like they betrayed me? Why? I shouldn’t feel that way. I shouldn’t be mad or hurt… but I am.

“Did you ask her not to?”

“Well, we both thought…”

“It’s okay, White. It’s not any of my business. But this can’t be yours, either. If I want to marry Tommy, then you should support me. We’re friends. That’s what friends do.”

“Kay…”

“Listen, I’ve got to go. I’m running late for work. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“We really should—”

“Bye, White,” I say, not giving him time to talk anymore and hanging up. I stare at the phone in my hand for a few more minutes. I hung up on White. It feels wrong. It feels… like the end of an era, and I guess it is. I’m going to marry Tommy Haynes. Things have to change.

I keep repeating that all the way to work. Somehow, it doesn’t help.

CHAPTER 2

WHITE

“Who are you screaming at in here? You’re interrupting my and Jansen’s morning devotional,” my mom Ida Sue says, coming in from outside. She’s buttoning up her shirt as she walks, and from the look of the straw in her hair, they were having “fun time” in the barn again. Jesus.

I really should just go back home to Dallas. Kayla and I both live there. Our apartments are actually in the same complex on the edge of the city. Mom’s is actually about three hours West. I started to stay home to recover, but everywhere I turned was a reminder that I wouldn’t be out on the field. I wouldn’t hear the roar of the crowd, or the wind rush from me when being sacked on the fifty-yard line. I wouldn’t be able to feel the exhilaration of making it all the way to the end zone.

Football is in my blood. It always has been. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Being home in Dallas and being denied what makes me whole was horrible, so I came back home to recuperate. At least my mom and Jansen have stopped having sex on the kitchen table. The one time I saw that, I thought I was going to have to gouge my eyes out.

“Kayla’s getting married,” I tell her.

“Oh, she told you. That’s good.”

“What?? You knew about this?”

“Dear, Kayla is here more than you are. She’s family.”

“Then why didn’t you stop her? She doesn’t love that asshole.”

“Maybe not. But she wants a child,” Mom points out, and the words settle in my stomach like lead.

“She doesn’t have to get married to have a baby, Mom.”

“Probably not, but Kayla’s a good girl. She’s not about to let someone she doesn’t know and trust just dip his wick in. That narrowed down her possibilities. That left you, Tommy, and little Mason who brings her groceries out at that store she shops at. And, well, he’s a little young, dear.”

“Jesus, Mom.”

“I’m just telling you like I see it. She would have talked to you about it, but you’ve made it clear how much you are against marriage and kids in general. She needed to talk to someone more open.”

“Meaning you.”

“Well, she is like one of my daughters.”

“Which is exactly why you should have talked her out of this. Or at least out of marrying Tommy. That’s crazy. She shouldn’t have to get married to have a kid.”

“Maybe not. Tommy is many things, but he’s not a fool.”

“What does that mean?”

“He’s not going to be stupid enough to let Kayla get away. If she wants a baby, he’ll make sure he ties her to him and then give her one.”

“Kayla will be miserable with him mom.”

“Probably. But sweetie, Kayla is painfully shy. She doesn’t even know her own worth. She sees this as her opportunity to have her own family and she wants it. I’ve made my own share of crazy decisions and look how they turned out. It will work out in the end.”

“It won’t work out if she ruins her life!”

“I don’t know what to tell you. Unless you plan on stepping up and offering to be her baby daddy, let it go. It’s Kayla’s mistake to make.”

“I’m not having kids, Mom. I saw what that shit did to Green. There’s no way in Hell I’m going to get myself in that kind of mess.”

“Green’s taste in women is to blame for that. That she-bitch from Hell he was married to was proof of that and Cynthia is just a boil on the ass of humanity. A good woman is nothing like that. A good woman nurtures a man, makes him stronger.”

“Amen to that,” Jansen says, picking that moment to come inside. He slaps my mom’s ass, then pulls her to his side. “What are we talking about?”

“Kayla deciding to marry Tommy.”

“Jesus, does everyone but me know about it?”

“Pretty much. I’ve got to say, I wasn’t crazy about the idea either. I was hoping you might offer to help her out,” Jansen responds.

“Kayla and I aren’t like that. We’re buddies,” I deny immediately. “I just care about her. I don’t want to see her ruin her life like this.”

“And you’ve never once choked your chicken thinking about her?” Ida Sue asks.

“Oh hell, I’m not talking about whacking off with my Mom.”

“Why on Earth not? It’s not like I haven’t walked in your room and caught you getting to know Pamela Hand-erson up close and personal—and more than once, I might add.”

“I can’t for the life of me figure out how I ever thought coming home was the best thing to do right now.”

“I’d say that’s the first smart thing you’ve done in a long damn time,” Jansen says.

“Definitely,” Mom agrees. “And the second smartest thing is to go chase down Kayla and play slap the salami.”

“Mom, we don’t have that type of relationship.”

“Seems to me, son, you only have two decisions here. She wants a baby. Unless you’ve had some surgery I don’t know about, you can make that happen. So do it—or stand back and let Tommy.”

“Do it?” I ask, not believing what my own mother is saying.

“Give her a baby.”

“It’s not worth the risk. I won’t lose Kayla,” I say out loud without even realizing it.

“Your decision, I suppose, but if you let her tie her wagon up to Tommy Haynes, you’ve already lost her. Give her a baby. I like kids. This house is too quiet as it is. I could use a few more grandkids,” Ida Sue says, patting me on the shoulder like I’m still a child before leaving the room.

“That’s a smart woman,” Jansen says, staring at the door as if he can still see Ida Sue standing there.

“She wants me to get Kayla pregnant.”

“That doesn’t sound like a job a man would hate,” Jansen notes.

“Of course not. Kayla’s sweet, but we don’t have that kind of relationship.”

“That’s a damn shame. Still, the love of a good woman changes a man. Maybe she’ll make that idiot Tommy gain a few more brain cells and it will all turn out okay. Guess I better get out to work. Those cows don’t fence themselves in.”

I ignore him, staring out the window and wondering how I can save Kayla from herself. The idea of her marrying Tommy is wrestling around in my gut like poison. She’s too good for that prick. Why are Mom and Jansen so calm about it? Can’t they see that Kayla is destroying her life?

I’ve got to figure out how to talk some sense into her—and fast.

CHAPTER 3

KAYLA

I keep looking at the reflection in the mirror, hoping that what I see reflected back might change. My brown dishpan-water-colored curly hair is frizzy today. It doesn’t matter what I do; the humidity is winning the battle. I really should have stayed away from the pint of orange sherbet I ate after talking with White on the phone two days ago because it’s not doing my hips a bit of good. I bought this dress for the meet-the-family dinner tonight. And it might have said my size, but it looks unbelievably tight and ill-fitting now. Surely I couldn’t have gained that much weight in a week.

I don’t know why I keep hyperventilating, but for some reason I do. Frumpy. That’s the word I associate with myself. Plain, brown, over-curly hair with brown eyes that are dull, and way too many curves and rolls along the highway I call my body. You would think after almost thirty years I would learn to like the woman who stares back at me in the mirror. Most days I do. At least I like the woman on the inside. As for the outside, there have been too many men that have whittled away at my self-confidence and made me feel less. Just less.

It probably doesn’t help that the one man I love and will always love has never seen me as girlfriend material. We’re friends. He’s my best friend. His family is the only family I’ve ever known.

I have a half-sister who I’m not extremely close to. Rachel. Rachel is everything that I’m not. Beautiful with long-flowing straight blonde locks, skinny, able to fit into the latest hip fashions, and she is never socially awkward. Tonight, she would be fantastic in dealing with Tommy’s family. Me? I’d rather be on my couch in sweats watching movies and gorging myself on pizza—which might explain my hips.

Finally giving up—because honestly there’s nothing more I can do and I’m going to be ten minutes late to meet Tommy and his family at Rodrigo’s Restaurant as it is—I move from the mirror to find my heels. I love them. At least they will look great. I wouldn’t be so nervous if I wasn’t showing up all alone for a family dinner. Truthfully, I don’t have anyone to bring. Rachel and I barely talk and that was before I found out she slept with White. Now, I’d just rather not deal with her at all.

Our mother died when I was sixteen. Eventually my stepfather took his real daughter and moved to Galveston. If not for Ida Sue, I probably would have wound up in an orphanage. She took me in, took the necessary classes to become a foster parent, and never once made me feel like anything less than her own child. Heck, she even called me Buttercup when I was little because she said the dark centers of the flower reminded her of my eyes. It didn’t make sense, but I was just grateful to belong.

I would have brought Ida Sue and Jansen with me tonight, but Tommy’s ex-wife Cynthia will be there. I’m pretty sure Ida Sue would end up in jail by the end of the night if I put her in the same room as Green’s ex. I wouldn’t be able to blame her. Actually, I probably would have cheered her on because I can’t stand Cynthia. I don’t like the fact that she’ll be at this dinner, but Tommy says that as the mother of his daughter she needed to be there because she’s part of his family. We fought about it a couple of times, but in the end, I gave in mostly because I got tired of listening to him justify it. It became clear that he wasn’t going to change his mind.

With a sigh, I shake away my thoughts. I’ve put it off long enough. I walk to the door, gather my small purse, wrap, and the keys lying on the small table by the door. I take a deep breath to try and steady my nerves, then open the door.

A small gasp of surprise leaves my lips when I find White standing there looking devastatingly handsome in black casual slacks and a Kelly green pullover. His sandy-brown hair is a little on the shaggy side with small curls around the ends. Everything about this man always makes me happy. The fact that his hair looks rumpled and in need of a cut only makes him more appealing.

“White! What are you doing here?” I whisper so quietly I’m surprised he can hear me. I wasn’t ready to face him this soon.

“We need to talk, Kayla. Fuck, you look beautiful.”

His compliment takes me aback. I’m not used to him talking like that—especially about me.

“Um… okay. Is something wrong?”

“How come I’ve never seen you dress like this before?”

“Because we never go anywhere other than Hooters or the movies. Actually, we hardly ever leave our apartments together. I’d look pretty silly wearing a dress for that.”

“If I’d known you had shoes like that, I would have made sure we went somewhere just so I could see you in them,” he says, staring at my feet.

I look down at the black stilettoes I’m wearing—that even I have to admit are pretty spectacular. Still, his response is annoying.

“Can we forget about your previously unknown shoe fetish and instead concentrate on why you’re here before you make me late?”

“I’m here to take you to the family dinner.”

“I… you’re what?”

“Mom said you were having a family dinner with Tommy’s family tonight. We couldn’t let you show up without someone in your corner. Since I’m the one least likely to spear Cynthia with my steak knife during dinner, I was elected. Later on, you can explain to me why Tommy’s ex-wife is at the dinner.”

“But, you don’t want me to marry Tommy,” I tell him.

“I don’t,” he agrees. “But I care about you, Kayla. You have a family dinner and you need your people around you. You’re going to get it. All of us offered, but I didn’t figure you wanted your fiancé pissed because someone killed the mother of his child. So, you get me.”

“All of you?”

“All of us. Even Green.”

“Wow.”

“So are we ready? Where’s Tommy?”

“I’m meeting him there.”

“Shouldn’t he have picked you up? You are meeting his fucked-up family, after all.”

“It’s just a ten minute taxi ride, White. I offered to meet him there,” I tell him, leaving out the part that I really didn’t want to talk to Tommy either. I’ve been having second and third thoughts about this wedding, and they only seem to get worse after spending time with Tommy.

“Okay, then. We’ll take my car,” he says standing to the side and holding out his arm. “Come along, my lady. Your chariot awaits,” he jokes, his blue eyes sparkling with humor. This is the White I love—the White I fell in love with.

And this is the White I can’t think about—especially tonight. “You’re more than a little scary right now,” I tell him, not confessing why I find him so frightening.

Flustered, I turn and lock my door and then take White’s hand. It will be nice to have him there tonight. Tommy is a good person. Unfortunately, the rest of his family is more like Cynthia, and I’m dreading them more than I could ever say.

“Live dangerously, Buttercup,” he says, and I smile despite my nerves. With White’s help, I can make it through tonight. It’s good he’s here, even if it was a surprise.

CHAPTER 4

WHITE

“I just find it strange that my son’s fiancée is escorted to a family dinner by another man,” Tommy’s mother says for the fourth time.

It’s all I can do not to ask the woman if she has short term memory loss. Kayla looks at me and I see the tension in her face and it pisses me off. Just as she’s about to placate the prissy bitch yet again, I decide to take control.

“I have to admit, Mrs. Haynes, I found it strange that Tommy decided not to escort Kayla to the dinner himself. But his oversight is my good luck. I guess I should be thanking you, Tommy. Though, you don’t want to leave a door like that open too many times. You might find a man has swooped in and taken her away from you. Women like Kayla are hard to find.”

I hear a few gasps around the table. Tommy is looking at me and I can’t tell if he’s upset or not. He’s been pretty withdrawn this whole night. I can’t for the life of me figure out what Kayla was thinking, hooking up with him. Kayla’s coughing catches my attention. She’s putting her glass down, obviously choking on the wine.

I put my hand on her back and pat lightly. “You okay, Buttercup?”

“Buttercup?” blurts Mrs. Haynes.

Before I can answer, Kayla has settled her coughing and speaks up, though her voice is a little tight and winded. “White’s mother gave me that nickname when I came to live with them. She had named all of her girls after flowers and she didn’t want me to feel left out.”

“So you two are… step-siblings?”

“Exactly—”

“—Not at all,” I say at the same time, talking over Kayla. Her eyes go huge in disbelief, to which I just grin.

“I’m afraid I’m back to not understanding the dynamic here.”

“Kayla belongs to our family. She’s one of us. But I don’t know of a man who could look at a woman as beautiful as her and think of her as a sister if they aren’t blood related,” I tell Mrs. Haynes, but I’m not looking at her. I’m looking at Kayla—a Kayla who looks like she wants to strangle me.

“White, will you quit joking around? I’m sorry, Mrs. Haynes. White has problems realizing he’s not always as funny as he thinks he is.”

“I see,” she responds.

“Not really. I just don’t like the idea that someone doesn’t value what he has in Kayla,” I interrupt again, looking straight at Tommy.

Tommy puts his fork down and looks me in the eye. I’ll grudgingly give him bonus points for that.

“I know her value,” he states. “It’s why I asked her to marry me. I wasn’t stupid enough to have her around for years and not notice how special she is.”

Fucking prick. I see the self-satisfied way he’s looking at me. My mother’s words come back to mind, but I shut them down. Kayla and I do not have that dynamic. I’m not having kids. I can’t give her what she wants. Besides, even thinking about Kayla like that would ruin our friendship. That absolutely can’t happen.

“I think it’s time we change the subject,” Kayla says, and her voice is filled with an unspoken warning. I want to push it, but when I see her face, I stop. I’m here to support her and maybe shine a light on what a loser Tommy Haynes is.

“I’d like to know why Kayla inspires a pissing match,” Cynthia says, rather bored.

“Cynthia,” Tommy’s mother chastises.

“What? I find it a legitimate question,” she says, looking at her nails as if she’s bored. Maybe she is. From what I know of Cynthia, if she isn’t the center of attention, she’s not interested.

“I think I’ve had enough of the family togetherness,” Tommy says, his voice tight.

“Oh, is little Tommy put out because I don’t like his little girlfriend? I’ve already warned you that if you insist on going through with this marriage, our daughter will not be allowed to stay with you. I don’t want that bitch anywhere near my child,” Cynthia says.

“I see you’re as charming as ever, Cynthia,” I say, looking at her. “Did you insist on being here tonight just to make everyone miserable?” Every time I see her I’m reminded of the hell she put my brother through. I can’t stand her.

“Fuck you, White. If it wasn’t for your brothers and that crazy mother of yours, Green and I would have been fine.”

“Gee, you don’t think it had something to do with the fact that you cheated on him with his coach and at least three other men?”

“I don’t think this is something we should be talking about tonight. Tonight is about—” Tommy starts, and I decide to turn my attention to him. It’s his fault really, the fucker should have kept quiet.

“You don’t think that’s something we should discuss? Could that be because you were one of the men she was screwing while my brother was busting his ass in the minors just so he could get called back up?”

“I think we’ve had enough…” Mrs. Haynes starts.

“White,” Kayla begins.

“I didn’t realize they were still married at the time,” Tommy defends, but if the motherfucker thinks I buy that shit, he’s crazy.

“Of course Green would never have gotten called back to the majors if he hadn’t found out his dear, sweet wife was the village bicycle and everyone around was taking turns pedaling her.”

“You bastard,” Cynthia cries.

My eyes should have been on her, but they aren’t; they’re glued to the bastard who is trying to put his claim on Kayla.

“Were you in on it, too? Helping her arrange it so the coach would give Green every shitty gut-punch he could to keep him away from home? All so you could get the bitch to—”

I’m cut off when Cynthia slaps me across the face. I rub the corner of my mouth where I can feel a sting of blood—probably from that rock she’s wearing on her finger. I wonder what idiot was stupid enough to give her that. Hopefully not my brother.

“I think my work is done here. Kayla, you going home with me or are you staying here?” I ask, getting up.

I’m watching her closely. In my head, I’m urging her to pick me. She jerks her head to look at me. I see panic and stress in her face, and I hate that I put it there, but I need her to see these assholes for who they are. I need her to see who the fuck Tommy is. I mean, what kind of numb-nuts invites his ex to a dinner where his fiancée meets his parents?

C’mon, Kayla. Kick them off like dirt on your shoe. Come with me. Come home to me.

“My fiancé will be staying with me where she belongs,” Tommy answers, wrapping his hand around Kayla. It takes all I’ve got not to tear the fucker away from her and throw him into the wall. The only thing that stops me is Kayla’s gentle voice.

“Tommy will bring me home, White.”

Fuck. Shit. Damn.

I push away from the table, shoving the table back a good foot and spilling food on Tommy’s parents. I walk away without a second glance. I told Mom and Jansen this was a stupid idea. I should have let Cyan come instead, but I thought I could use it as a way to get through to Kayla. Instead, I probably pushed her further away and into Tommy’s waiting arms.

And son of a bitch, if it doesn’t cut like a motherfucker that she didn’t leave with me tonight. Why does it feel like Mom’s right and I’m already losing her?

CHAPTER 5

KAYLA

“Do you realize it’s seven in the morning?”

I yawn, opening my front door to see White standing there holding a white paper bag and two large cups, which I’m praying contain coffee.

“You always get up early,” he defends, pushing his way inside. I sigh and close the door behind him. It appears I have early morning company.

“It’s Saturday,” I half-grumble and half-yawn. “Besides that, I’m not sure I want to talk to you after last night.”

“Your future in-laws are fuck wads.”

“You still didn’t have to go off like you did. I hope that’s coffee,” I tell him, reaching for one of the cups.

“Two sugars and cream.”

I ignore him, take a drink, and close my eyes as the caffeine begins to infiltrate my veins. If coffee is a drug, I’m a total addict. “Heaven.”

“A man could be jealous of that cup,” White says, and when I open my eyes, he’s looking at me strangely.

“What’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re acting all weird. Then there was the chaos of last night, and now you’re showing up at 7 a.m. with coffee and… oh my God! Are those Bavarian cream-filled doughnuts?”

“Your favorite, if I remember correctly, Buttercup.”

“Am I dying?” I ask as I bite into pure confectionary heaven.

“No one knows you like I do, Kayla. No one ever will,” he says with an odd look on his face.

His words hit this part in my stomach that literally hurts and then leaves it raw. My hand goes there almost in defense as I feel the burning bloom and curl around me, entering my bloodstream. He’s right. No one has ever known me like White does. We’ve been best friends since high school and, as much as it hurt to be in love with my best friend, the terror of not having him at all has kept me from ever telling him how I really felt. White is gorgeous. Women would flock to him regardless. Being a football god just makes it that much worse. He’s way out of my league. Not even in my zip code, honestly. Plus, White doesn’t do relationships. He’s horrible at them. The longest one he ever had lasted two months. Usually by the second week, he becomes so bored that he’s inventing reasons to stay away from them. By week four, he averages seeing them once a week with sporadic phone calls. By the second month, only the really stupid women are still hanging around, and he always sends them flowers with a note that says, in essence: “It’s not you—it’s me.”

The idea of ever becoming one of those women would kill me. I’d rather have my buddy than nothing at all… or I always had. But, now I’m tired of always being on the outside looking in. I don’t want to be the woman who was in love with a man she could never have, and because of that, failed to have kids and a family of her own. I want a home. A real home. A life I never had growing up until Ida Sue steamrolled her way in.

“That’s only because I’ve put up with your bullshit through the years,” I tell him, shaking off my thoughts.

“I’m just trying to make amends for last night. I shouldn’t have lost my cool,” he says.

I grimace. I knew going in what last night would be like. I just really needed someone with me because I hate Tommy’s family. They all treat me like a piece of ancient gum found under the table at a restaurant.

“Cynthia’s a bitch,” I tell him, then privately in my mind, I add: And so are the rest of them.

“I still don’t understand why he had to have her there.”

“He has a name.” I don’t truthfully understand why Tommy is so nice to Cynthia, except maybe in deference to their daughter. Still, even considering that, I didn’t like that she was at my dinner with the family. Tommy and I had words over it, and those words have slowly progressed into not talking much at all because we see things differently. That isn’t good, I know, but I’m not ready to bend just yet, and it’s not looking like Tommy will at all.

“Whatever,” White says, and all I can do is shake my head. “So what’s on the agenda for today?” he asks.

I take a minute to savor another doughnut as I think about his question. “Tommy and I were supposed to go check out wedding venues, but he got called in to the office. So, I’m not sure now. He told me to go without him, but I don’t really want to go on my own, and besides, what if he hates what I pick?”

“I still don’t see why you’re getting married.”

“White, let’s not get into this again. I’m aware of your thoughts on the matter. I’m marrying Tommy. I want a family. End of discussion.”

“Fine, then I’ll go with you.”

“Yeah, right. You get bored going to the grocery store with me. I doubt very seriously you’re up to traipsing all over town looking at different places to hold a wedding—a wedding you don’t even want to happen.”

“I can be impartial. Besides, I’ll be outside. I can do that. As long as you aren’t getting your toenails painted or hair done and I have to sit in the corner feeling my male chromosomes leaking out of my body slowly each minute, I can deal.”

“I don’t know. Besides, it doesn’t change the fact that Tommy won’t be able to be there with me.”

“You can send him pictures of your favorites. It’ll be like he’s right there.”

“You sure are being helpful for a man who doesn’t even want this marriage to happen.”

“I want my best girl happy. If Tommy truly does that, then who am I to stand in the way?”

“Thank you,” I answer him, unsure of what else to say, and his answer has left butterflies fluttering around in my stomach as it is.

“Anytime. I’m always here for you, Kayla. Always.”

“I know that, White. You’re my best friend,” I tell him.

The trouble is, I don’t know if I’m reminding him, or me. I really need to remember that we’re just friends.

That’s all.

CHAPTER 6

WHITE

“Oh, hell no!”

“What now??” Kayla cries.

This is the fifth place we’ve been to and I’ve managed to convince her so far that every one of them isn’t right for what she wants. I should feel guilty, but I don’t. I’ve been truthful for the most part, if not a bit over zealous in my approach. None of the places we have seen are good enough for Kayla. Especially the one we’re at right now.

“What’s wrong with it?” she demands, sticking her bottom lip out and looking like a pouting child being denied her favorite toy.

“Let me guess: Tommy chose this place?”

“Why do you say that?”

“It screams ‘stuck-up pretention’. It screams ‘I have a stick in my ass and I can barely walk’.”

“It does not!” she insists, looking around at the room that looks like it was decorated by the same designer who probably did Buckingham Palace. Beautiful, sure, but there’s nothing warm and loving about it. Nothing that screams flowers and wide open fields warmed by sunshine. Nothing that says… Kayla. “Tommy isn’t pretentious,” she mutters.

I want to roll my eyes, but I don’t. I stay the course. My job here is just to show the differences between them. I need her to push Tommy aside.

“His family is,” I tell her, then feel ashamed of myself when she lets out a defeated sigh. I refuse to waiver, though. I might be an asshole.

“He wants to make them happy.”

“Honey, the way I see it, this is Tommy’s second marriage. He got everything he wanted the first time around. This is your wedding, Kay—and I know you. When you get married, it will be your only wedding. That means this wedding should give you what you dreamed about. Remember that night at the prom when we laid back on the hood of my old Camaro and looked up at the stars? Remember what you told me?” I ask her, pulling her closer and rubbing her back.

She looks up at me and her big brown eyes look a little lost.

“You remember that?” she asks, her voice so quiet I have to strain to hear it.

“I remember every single conversation we’ve ever had, Kayla. Haven’t I told you that?”

“No.”

“Do you remember, honey?”

“I do…”

“You said you wanted to get married at the ranch with all of us around you. You wanted…”

“Sweet Williams, Buttercups, and Black-eyed Susans,” she whispers, naming the wildflowers that she wanted in her bouquet.

“And you wanted to ride off into the sunset on the back of your palomino with a man who would love you as much as you loved him.  You said you wanted someone who wouldn’t see any other woman but you in a crowded room.”

“Well, that can’t happen. I don’t have a horse anymore and Tommy is not the type to ride one regardless. It was just a silly dream, White.”

“It was what you wanted. You deserve that wedding, Kayla. Let me help you have it.”

“You mean have my wedding at your mom’s house?”

“Why not?”

“Well, I mean Tommy’s family… and, well, Green hates Tommy.”

“But he is marrying you, honey. If he cares about you, he will make it work,” I tell her, knowing fucking well the bastard won’t.

“You really think it would be okay?”

“It would be more than okay.” Yeah, I’m probably skating major asshole-ism.

“Shouldn’t I talk to Ida Sue?”

“I already have.”

“Why would you do that, White?”

“Because I want you to be happy and I know in my heart that unless you get the wedding of your dreams, you won’t be.”

“Tommy won’t be happy.” Despite her words, I see the excitement in her eyes. She wants this.

“He’s marrying you. He’s getting a dream right there, honey.  He should give you yours,” I tell her, letting my fingers brush the loose hair from her face. “You know this is what you really want.”

“It really is,” she agrees. I watch as her lips spread into a smile and those brown eyes heat up with happiness. Kayla is beautiful. I guess I’ve always known, but I’ve never taken the time to notice before. She’s sweet, too, and she doesn’t have a conniving bone in her body. Like right now, she’s staring at me like I’ve captured the moon for her. It’s almost as if she thinks I can do anything, make anything possible. A man could get addicted to a look like that…

“Then let’s do it. Let’s have our wedding at Mom’s.”

Her body tenses up, “Ours?” she questions.

“I mean yours,” I tell her, feeling stupid. All this wedding and family talk is obviously getting to me a little too much. I should go out with the boys tonight since I’m back in Dallas. I haven’t even told anyone I’m back. I’ve been too intent on trying to stop this wedding.

“I’ll talk to Tommy tonight about it,” Kayla says, but I can hear the doubt in her voice.

“Don’t back down, Kayla. You deserve this,” I encourage her and fuck, I almost wince as I say it. It’s official. I am an asshole.

CHAPTER 7

KAYLA

“Absolutely not.”

“Tommy, you’re not being reasonable.”

“I am not having my wedding to my new wife at the home of Cynthia’s ex.”

“They’re my family.”

“They are not. Not really. Any of those places on the list I gave you were beautiful spots to have a wedding, Kayla. I will not agree to have a wedding at Green’s parent’s home. No way.”

“They are the only real family I’ve ever had and I love them. I want them there and I want the wedding at their house.”

“I said no.”

“Just like that? You don’t even want to consider it? Even knowing how important it is to me?”

“Quit being melodramatic, Kayla.”

His words are like a slap in the face. Melodramatic?

“I don’t think I’m being melodramatic at all. I only plan on getting married once, Tommy.”

“I know that. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise,” he starts, but I cut him off.

“And I’ve always wanted a wedding on the Lucas farm. It’s where my favorite memories are. It’s where I finally felt part of a family. It’s important to me.” I finally think I’m getting through because Tommy listens to me and then he pulls me close. Immediately, I feel guilty because with Tommy, there’s none of the heat or excitement that happens like when White does the same thing. There’s no breath that lodges in my throat, no quickening heartbeat. There’s just nothing, and the fear that I’ve chosen wrong and made a mistake settles once again deep inside of me.

“Kayla, you have to let the past go. We’re going to make our own memories and those memories will have nothing to do with the Lucas family. They will involve only you and me and the family we will have around us,” he says while looking at me, and it’s strange. His eyes are the same color as White’s, but they don’t hold the same intensity. They’re cool, not warm.

“Your family hates me.”

“They don’t know you.”

“They don’t want to. And I don’t want Cynthia to be at our wedding.”

His face goes grim at my words, his jawline tightening, and I can see the disapproval that washes over him.

“She’s the mother of my child. The same child you will be a stepmother to.”

“I love your daughter, you know that. Arie isn’t the problem.”

“The problem? I didn’t realize we had a problem, Kay,” he says, and when he shortens my name, I hate it. I never let anyone do it… except for White.

He steps back from me and leans against the wall. His arms are folded at his chest and I know before I even start that his mind is closed.

“We do. I don’t think you’re putting me first.”

“Arie comes first.”

There’s a small part of me that’s hurt by his words, which is crazy. If I had a child, I’d put her first too. But, for him to just say that without even adding me into the equation really stings me. Couldn’t he have said “you and Arie” will always come first?

“And where do I fall in line?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, so far, I see you making concessions for your parents, your friends, and your coworkers. Hell, even your ex-wife came to the dinner we had scheduled with your parents. I ask to have my wedding at my family home, and you immediately shut me down.”

“And you know why!”

“Why? Because you want Cynthia to be there? It’s my wedding, Tommy. Mine.”

“It’s mine too, Kay, or did you forget that?”

“What? Of course I didn’t. What do you mean…?”

“I mean, maybe you forgot that I’m the groom and not Lucas.”

“That’s a low blow, Tommy.”

“Let’s not fool ourselves, Kay. You’ve told me how you feel about White before. We both agreed to this wedding because we wanted certain things. It’s a marriage of friendship and convenience. You need to put White out of your life.”

“But there isn’t anything between us! We’re friends. You can’t act like it’s something we need to address, Tommy. You don’t get to do that. We talked about all of it before I even agreed to your proposal! This is about respect and—”

“And do you think you are respecting me by asking me to have this wedding at the home of the man my wife left me for?”

“You took her away from him first, and she isn’t your wife anymore! She wasn’t then!”

“I don’t want to talk about this with you!” he growls.

“Don’t you think we should talk about it? We’re getting married, Tommy!”

“Are we, Kayla?”

“What? What are you saying?”

“I’m saying if you keep insisting on having this wedding at the Lucas Ranch, then as far as I’m concerned, there will be no wedding.”

“Are you serious?”

“Completely. I will not agree to a wedding at the Lucas Ranch. If you insist on it, this wedding is done.”

“Just like that?”

“You’re the one pushing this, Kayla. Not me.”

“If it’s so easy for you to decide, then why were you telling White how you knew my worth last night? What was all that about?”

“I do know your worth, Kayla. We could have a good life together. A calm life. A life without surprises and one of mutual respect. But you’re not willing to let go of White and the Lucas family. They’re not yours, Kayla. They’ve never been yours. It’s time you either accepted that and move forward with me and the family we could build, or admit you will never be able to cut the ties.”

His words hurt. They cut something inside of me that has been raw since my stepfather left. He’s not entirely wrong. I can admit that. If I move forward, I do need to let go of them some—specifically White. One question hounds me though.

“Are you willing to do the same?”

“What do you mean?”

“If I give up White and the rest of the family, what are you giving up, Tommy?”

“This isn’t a game, Kayla, where you give up something so I do too. This is life.”

“What about Cynthia?”

“What about her?”

“I don’t want her in our lives.”

“She’s the mother of my child, Kayla.”

“Then where Arie is concerned, it’s fine to work with her. What’s not fine is her being at a dinner for our engagement, or the way she talks about me.”

“Cynthia is—”

“A bitch.”

“Kayla…”

“Can we agree that she stays out of the marriage, this agreement that you and I have?”

“I can’t guarantee that. As the mother of my child, I naturally will have to take her into account with anything to do with my life,” he says, and something clicks into place. He expects me to do all the giving in this relationship, all the allowances. While I’m in love with White and was up front with him about it, he’s always going to be in love with Cynthia, but he won’t admit it. Maybe even to himself. I can live and settle for a lot. Tommy and what he’s offering isn’t one of them.

“Then I guess it’s over,” I whisper, my stomach in knots. I don’t know what I’m doing here. I want a child, but the more time I spend with Tommy, the more I know marrying him would be a mistake.

Without another word, Tommy walks out. My emotions are all out of whack. I’m not sure what I feel. I think I should feel panic, but right now all I really feel is what I felt on the days before I accepted Tommy’s proposal.

Alone.

CHAPTER 8

WHITE

“C’mon, Kay. Let me in,” I yell, pounding on the door. It’s been two days since I’ve heard from her. She’s not answering my texts, she’s not returning my calls, and I can’t take the silence any longer.

“Go away,” I hear from the other side of the door, a mumbled reply.

“You either open this door or I break it down.”

“I’m going back to bed, you freak. It’s not even eight in the morning! And it’s Sunday!”

“Kay, I’m warning you!”

Silence.

I should walk away. I know I should. Give her space or whatever the fuck it seems to be she’s wanting. The problem here is that I haven’t gone so much as one day without contact from Kayla in fifteen years. Hell, even at the height of football season and during the big games, we still managed to text or call. Two days may not seem like a lot to some people, but it feels like a fucking lifetime to me. So like an idiot, I don’t walk away. I don’t back off and give her time. I kick her door down. Okay, well I kick it until the cheap little lock she has on the front door gives. As it breaks with just my second kick, I make a mental note to install a deadbolt in her apartment. One I have the key to. Key… Motherfucker!

“Tell me you did not just break my door in!” There’s not much I can do to answer Kay’s accusation. Denying it would be pretty stupid since it’s hanging awkwardly away from the doorframe beside me. Stupid even to a dumbass who broke a door into his best friend’s apartment when he has a motherfucking key on his key ring—a key ring that just happens to be in his damned pocket. “White Hall Lucas! Tell me you did not just break my door!”

I shrug, walking further inside. I try to close the door behind me. There’s nothing for it to latch onto since I broke the lock frame on the door. But it does go together for a second—right before it opens about two inches as if to say, “Hah, motherfucker, you fucked up.”

“Why in the hell did you break my door!?”

“It could be because you haven’t been answering your damned phone, or your texts. Maybe it’s because you knew I was out here and you weren’t letting me in. Maybe it was all three. I warned you!”

“First of all, it’s not even eight in the morning!”

“It is now,” I interject, causing her to give me a look that, if possible, would kill me dead.

“Second of all, White Hall, you have a damn key!”

“Why haven’t you been answering my texts?”

“I didn’t want to.”

“You didn’t want to?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Stop cursing me.”

“Then tell me why you didn’t answer your damned phone!”

“I told you! I didn’t want to!”

“That’s not a real reason.”

“It’s the only one I have.”

“Then you better come up with another one real soon, Buttercup.”

“Or what? You’ll break one of my windows? You’re fixing that door, White Hall! I am not calling my landlord to fix your stupidity.”

“Kayla, I’m warning you.”

“White, I’m ignoring you.”

“Tell me now or I’ll paddle that ass red.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“One.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Two.”

“Two,” she mocks.

“That’s it,” I snap. I’m angry, worried, and in no mood for her childish behavior. It doesn’t help matters that she’s standing there looking defiant and wearing these cute freaking pajamas. The bottoms are black with little milkshakes all over them and the white top has two very strategically placed milkshakes with whip cream and cherries on them with the words “My milkshakes bring all the boys to the yard” written on them. Her hair is all pulled up on top of her head and she doesn’t have a bit of makeup on. She looks adorable and sexy at the same time. She looks like she just crawled out of bed and she definitely looks like I need to throw her back in bed and tame her sassy fucking mouth—and her body.

Where are all these feelings coming from with Kayla? It’s driving me crazy. Which explains why I’m acting like a nut now, one who went as far as to break her door down. It’s her fault! She’d driving me to it!

I march towards her. There can’t be a doubt about my intent. I’m sure my face is broadcasting it with each step I take. As I watch her back away from me—I’m sure of it. She puts her hands up to ward me off, panic now replacing the anger on her face. Strangely enough this knot that has me tangled up inside since I heard about Kayla’s engagement starts to loosen. I take another step to her, cornering her between me and the sofa. Her body sways, but she manages to stay upright. It’s enough to show me however that she’s not wearing a bra under that t-shirt. Kayla’s curvy, and her breasts are easily a D cup. Watching her right now, I’d say closer to DD, and I’m definitely watching. When the nipples poke against the shirt, pebbled and hard, I watch even closer. My dick jerks, expanding and pushing against my jeans in reaction. Fuck. How have I not noticed what a rocking little body she has?

I’m only human, so my reaction doesn’t surprise me as much as her body’s reaction to me. She wants me. Knowing she’s turned on by me is a big fucking surprise… and something I find I… like. A hell of a lot.

“What are you doing?” she cries, panicked. I don’t reply. “White, this is crazy. You’re being crazy! Stop it!” Her cries only become louder as I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder, ignoring the pain that causes. She pulls and tugs, trying to get away from me. That’s not about to happen. I’m too focused, too determined. I sit down, pulling her into my lap. Having Kayla’s body in my arms sends instant electricity through me. I feel heat and need in a way I’ve never experienced before. My plan was to slap that ass red and leave my handprint on it, but something happens when I gather her up like this. Even fighting me, her body tends to curve into mine. She fills my hands so perfectly that it eases that knot inside of me a little more. She feels… right—like she was meant to be in my arms.

“Kayla…”

“Let me go, White,” she says, though she’s not yelling now. Is it my imagination, or is her body relaxing against me? God, she feels so good… soft. Does she sense it too? I can’t be the only one here to realize how well we fit together.

“First, tell me what’s wrong. Why are you mad at me?” I ask her. Did she catch the fact that my hand squeezed her hip extra tight, or that my fingers drifted against her ass a little too long?

“Tommy and I broke up,” she huffs, not looking at me, but her ass moves against my lap and my dick literally cries.

“Good.”

“That’s not good, you asshole, and it’s all your fault!”

I squeeze her hip again, this time letting my fingers bite into the juicy mound of her ass. “If you don’t stop moving Kayla, I’m not going to be responsible for what happens next.”

“What happens next?” she asks, sounding confused.

“I know we’re friends, Buttercup, but I’m a man and I can only take so much wiggling around on my cock before I act on what you’re offering.”

“What I’m…? But I’m not offering!” she whispers, her face filling with heat.

“That’s a damn shame too,” I tell her without thinking. These new feelings concerning Kayla are fucking with me. “Now tell me how you breaking up with that asshole is my fault?”

“You pushed me into telling him I wanted the wedding at Ida Sue’s.”

“So? It’s what you wanted.”

“Maybe so, but I should have thought about what Tommy wanted too, and now the wedding is off!”

“You shouldn’t have ever gotten engaged to that asshole. He’s not good enough for you and if he’s stupid enough to let you go because you want to have your wedding at your home then good riddance to his sorry ass.”

“That’s easy for you to say! You’re missing the bigger picture here, White!”

“I don’t think so, but go ahead and explain it to me.”

“I’m thirty!”

“You aren’t thirty yet, and that’s not exactly news to me.”

“I want kids!”

“Again…”

“Oh, shut up! Tommy was my chance at having a family and a kid the old-fashioned way. I wanted that, White. You know yourself I’ve never had it.”

“Kayla, honey, you’re not sixty. You have time. And I can guarantee you that if you wait, someone better than fucking Tommy Haynes will come along.”

“Of course you’d say that. You’re a man-whore who doesn’t want kids, and the thought of a family terrifies you.”

“No. I’m saying that as your best friend and someone who loves you.”

“White.”

“Someone who knows that Tommy Haynes would make you miserable.”

“Will you let go of my ass now?” she sighs, and it’s then I realize that not only am I still holding her, but my hands are kneading her juicy flesh. I don’t particularly want to stop, but I force myself. I need to get out and clear my head, maybe even get laid, because holding Kayla like this and touching her has me hard as a fucking rock.

“If I must,” I tell her, trying to make a joke out of it, because the last thing I want to do is to stop touching her.

“You’re an asshole.”

“But you love me anyways.”

“On most days. You’re fixing my door and taking me out for breakfast.”

“I am?”

“It’s the least you can do for waking me up.”

“Okay, but while we’re out, I’m buying you a better lock.”

“You’re buying me Bavarian cream doughnuts from Caesar’s.”

“And better locks.”

“Whatever. I’m going to shower. Please make sure my door closes while I’m in there.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Kayla slides off my lap and walks away. For a minute I’m stuck watching her walk away. I’ve got some shit to work out here. How I never noticed how sexy she was before, for one. Why I really wanted her marriage to Tommy canceled is another. And as I hear the water to Kayla’s shower come on, I know there’s one more thing.

Why the fuck is my dick throbbing at the idea of seeing my best friend naked with water sliding down her body? I’m up and have taken three steps toward her bathroom before I realize it and stop myself.

Shit just got more complicated.

CHAPTER 9

KAYLA

“We’re sorry, Ms. Graham, but surely you understand our position.”

“I understand you’re not even considering my application,” I tell the lady behind the desk at Cabinet for Child and Family Services.

“But we are. I’m just saying that for right now, there are many applications before yours that will take precedence.”

“All because those have two parents.”

“Listen, I’m sure you would make a great mother. But, there are guidelines and we have to make sure that each of these children have the best opportunities when they leave the facility.”

“But you have kids who aren’t even being considered for adoption. Surely they would be better in my home where I can give them housing, love, attention, and make sure they get every advantage I can physically make possible rather than stay in care of the state.”

“I’m not saying it won’t happen, Ms. Graham.”

“You’re just saying I have a better chance of winning the lottery than adopting a child.”

“I understand your frustration.”

“No. I don’t think you do,” I tell her and sigh. I should feel guilty, but I don’t. The system sucks, and from the looks of this woman’s desk—which holds frame after frame of family photos with her, a husband, and two kids—there’s just no way she could truly understand.

“You could adopt privately.”

“If I won the lottery, maybe, and even then two parents are given priority.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I know. It seems I have wasted both your time and mine. I’ll just be going,” I tell her, already getting up. I turn my back to her, gathering up my coat and purse that I hung on the back of my chair. Today has been fucked up. I’m going to need a drink. Hell, maybe a lot of them.

“There is another possibility,” I hear the woman say.

I turn around to look at her. I don’t know what she’s about to suggest, but I’m pretty sure I’ve exhausted all avenues here. If I want to be a parent, I think it’s getting clearer and clearer I have limited options. Heck, even in-vitro will cost more than I make for the entire year with my salary. Nope. It’s looking like I either go back to Tommy and do things his way—a choice I’d rather die than do—or I could go out to a bar and hook up with random strangers until I get lucky in more ways than one. Isn’t that a heartwarming story to tell my son or daughter about the way they were conceived? I could make a children’s book about it: how I became a whore trying to stick a freaking bun in my oven.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“You could take classes to become a foster parent.”

“A foster parent?”

“Yes. After you’ve been cleared, children that have been removed from homes could be placed with you temporarily while the courts work through what’s going on with their parents.”

“So they would be taken and given back to their parents eventually?”

“In some cases. In others, they’ve been placed for adoption.”

“And then I still would be on the outside looking in?”

“Ms. Graham…”

“I think I need to go home and think things over. Thank you for your help today. It’s sadly been very enlightening,” I tell her, leaving and not bothering to look back.

It’s ridiculous, the regulations and the hoops you have to jump through just to give a child a home. It’s not like I’m even asking for a baby; I knew those children would be the ones who would get adopted the easiest. I was hoping to take a child in who was like me when Ida Sue rescued me.

I walk outside and the heat hits me immediately. It has to be a hundred degrees today. Someone forgot to tell Mother Nature it’s fall. The stifling heat wraps around me, which isn’t good. After the day I’ve had, breathing is a chore. The heat just makes it worse. It seems to suffocate me. The smart thing to do would be to go home, but that’s not going to happen. The very last thing I want to do is go home and be alone. Being alone is not an option.

Screw it. I’ll go to Barney’s. Even if I don’t get up my nerve to go home with a potential sperm producer, I’ll be so drunk I won’t feel like the failure I am. With my mind made up, I head toward my favorite bar. I don’t even care that it’s early. What’s that saying? It’s five o’clock somewhere? Yeah, that sounds about right.

CHAPTER 10

WHITE

“You’re late.”

“For what? You do know you’re in my apartment and not yours, right?” Kayla asks, walking through the door. She’s wearing a black pencil skirt, a matching blazer over it, and small heels on her feet. She looks good, but strange. This is not her usual work gear. She goes for comfort when working with the kids. In fact, this whole outfit doesn’t look like Kayla; it’s too off-putting and severe. There’s nothing warm about it, especially the way she has her hair tightly pinned to the back of her head.

“Why are you dressed like you’ve been to a funeral?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“It’s called a business suit. Why did you break into my apartment again? This is getting to be a habit with you.”

“I’m cooking you dinner.”

“You’re forgiven,” she says with a heartfelt sigh as she walks into the kitchen where I’m at. “What are we eating?”

“Chicken stir-fry.”

“Yummy.”

“You know it. Now tell me why you’re dressed like the scary female lawyer who just left Attica?”

She groans as she takes a seat at the bar, unbuttoning the blazer she’s wearing. That might have been good, except underneath is just more black, and it’s a fucking turtleneck sweater. Is she trying to give herself heat stroke? I don’t care if it is fall; that outfit seems to make it entirely feasible.

“I had a meeting after school. I thought it would be to my best advantage to look all businesslike and dignified.”

"Well, you look something, alright. Did you scare the kids in your class?"

"No. God, you're such an ass. There's nothing wrong with this outfit."

"Not if you're a mortician," I quip, only not really kidding. I should do my civic duty and burn this getup when she takes it off.

"Asshole, I'm in no mood to listen to you go on about my clothes as if you're Tim Gunn."

"Tim who?"

"Never mind. It's best for your manhood that you don't know that answer."

"Whatever. You smell like alcohol. Are you drinking? It's barely five thirty!"

"Gee, Mom, I didn't realize there was a no-drinking-during-daylight-hours rule."

"There's not, normally. But you're Kayla."

“What's that mean?" she huffs, and I should sense danger here, but I can't seem to stop myself.

"Buttercup, you never drink."

"That's not true. We've shared beers together plenty of times."

"True, but watching the big game on television, or sharing a beer over a movie, is a lot different than you getting off work and drinking."

"Whatever," she says, throwing my favorite word back at me.

"Talk to me, honey," I urge her because she's not looking me in the eye. There's more going on here than I know and I don't like it.

She leans back against her chair with a sigh. For a minute, I think she might dodge me again. I'm starting to think I should ease up and stop pushing her. She stares at the wall across from me for a minute and I see something in her eyes that worries me.

"I had a meeting with Child and Family Services."

"Child and what?" I ask, stirring the food in the skillet to make sure the veggies don't burn. I don't cook often, but this is one of the things I make that I know makes Kayla happy.

"It's the state agency that's over the adoption center."

"Adoption?"

"Yeah. I thought I'd check things out a little more. I filled out paperwork there a while back and I hadn't really followed up on it."

"Are you seriously considering it?"

"I was."

"Was?"

"Well, it seemed like the perfect answer. I don't need a man for it. I'd be able to help a child and give them a home, much like your mom did for me."

"True, but now you've changed your mind?"

"Not really. They kind of changed it for me."

"What do you mean?"

"Adoption is nearly impossible. Unless you're richer than God, or happily married and have the perfect home life."

"Ah. I get it. They don't want single parents adopting?"

"Not at all. Or at least, not unless it's a last resort. The system is so broken, White."

"I can't argue there, Buttercup. So what are you going to do?"

"Give up?"

"That doesn't sound like the Kayla I know and love."

"Well, that's how I feel. At least right now."

She looks so sad and alone that I can't stop myself from walking around and standing beside her. I pull her up on her feet and her pretty brown eyes look up at me, full of sadness. I'm frozen by them for a minute. They're a sweet, deep brown color, and I can see just a hint of another color.

"Your eyes have green in them," I tell her without even realizing it. My fingers move up and down on her soft cheek.

"Yeah, I guess. They're boring."

"They're beautiful," I tell her honestly. I bend down to kiss her forehead. "I have an idea."

"What's that?" she asks and I reach up to unpin her hair. It takes me a minute to find all of the clasps, but soon her brown hair is falling down around her shoulders. Much better.

"How about you go get comfortable. I'll dish you up a plate of the best stir-fry you've ever had in your life—"

"You're so modest," she interrupts and I smile.

"And when you come back, we'll kick it in front of the television and I'll let you watch one of those horrible movies you love."

"You're joking?"

"Not even a little bit."

"Hmm... Notting Hill?"

"Kill me now. Seriously?"

"I love that movie."

"Fine,” I groan jokingly because I already knew what she would pick. “Notting Hill it is, but after that we're watching my man Vin Diesel. I'll need to refuel up on my man points."

"Sounds great." She smiles, pulling away from me. She takes a few steps before turning back around. She stares at me for a moment and I see a question in her eyes.

"What?" I ask.

"Thank you for this, White."

"Anytime, Buttercup. Anytime."

She nods, and then walks away. I stare after her for a minute. Even through her smile, she seems so sad. I wish I knew how to fix it. Kayla is one of the very few people I know who is genuinely caring and loving. There's nothing false in her. It doesn't seem right that she's having this much trouble getting the life that she wants. Especially since her dreams don't seem all that extraordinary.

I shake off the thought and get busy dishing up our food and carrying it over to her coffee table. Then I hunt for that damn movie that she wants. I should be glad it's this one and not that other one she watches sometimes: You've Got Mail. That one makes no sense at all. What kind of people can fall in love just by talking to each other? That's not even possible and I can't see how people can pretend it is, even to watch a movie.

CHAPTER 11

KAYLA

I change into my pajamas, throwing my hair on top of my head in a messy bun. The last thing I wanted tonight was company, but crazily enough, I like having White around. He makes the empty apartment feel less depressing. I spare a glance at myself in the mirror and for a minute worry about how big my tank and shorts make my hips look. Then I remember it's White and it wouldn't matter to him if I was stark naked. He doesn't think of me along those lines. That isn't allowed to make me sad anymore. No looking back. Besides, this afternoon at the bar, I came up with a decision and I'm going to stick with it.

I go back out into the living room to find White already sprawled out on the living room floor in front of my coffee table, staring at the television. His broad back is braced against my sofa and he looks like an overgrown kid. I smile like I always do at seeing him like this. The White I know is so different from the one all the sports magazines write about, or even the White on the football field. I get a feeling I might be the only one to see him like this, completely. I like that he can feel that relaxed with me.

"Move your big buns over. I'm starved." He looks up sheepishly, making room for me, a fork halfway up to his mouth. "Nice to see you didn't wait for me," I tell him, sliding onto the floor beside him.

"Black? Really, Buttercup?"

"What? I like black," I answer, ignoring him in favor of inhaling the food instead. The spices assault me and my stomach lets out a tiny rumble of need. I didn’t have time for food today; I was too wound up over today's meeting.

"I'm going to take it upon myself to buy you new pajamas and clothes. Black won't be in any of them."

"If you want to waste your money, feel free. I'd rather have a new television though."

"What's wrong with your TV?"

"It's too small."

"Why does it suddenly feel like you’re the man in our relationship?” he asks me. “Besides, it's fifty inches."

"Exactly. I want one of those sixty-five-inch ones, the kind that are curved for more pleasure."

I smirk. He nearly chokes on his food.

"You did not just say that."

"I did. Was there something wrong with what I said?" I ask innocently.

"You are a dirty girl, Kayla Graham."

"Look who’s talking. Start my movie."

"Yes, mistress. If you can manage to even enjoy it on such a small screen."

"I'm about to share with you a sad fact of life, White. Brace yourself."

"I'm bracing, but mostly because I'm afraid of you now."

"Chicken."

"Share with me your wisdom, wise one," he quips and I stick my tongue out at him.

"The sad truth is that size matters in this world."

"You don't say."

I pat him on the shoulder like I'm feeling sorry for him, "I'm afraid so."

"You know what else matters in this world?"

"What's that?"

"Being a smart ass. Keep it up and I'm going to paddle you."

"Do you know that's the second time lately you've threatened that? I guess all those articles were right."

"What articles?"

"The ones saying that White Hall Lucas likes his sex kinky."

"Oh God, please tell me you don't read those gossip magazines. And what are you doing reading about my sex life, Kayla? That's just creepy. I demand you stop at once."

"Hey, I can’t help it that you're plastered all over the front of the paper! I go there to work my morning crossword. It's not my fault."

"I'll buy you a book of crosswords instead," he grumbles.

"Giant print," I mutter, ignoring him for the television.

I eat my food, choosing to ignore him for the magic that is Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts. I'm surprised when White reaches over and grabs my now empty plate.

"You want more?"

"What?" I half look at him, loving the part where Julia is in the tub when Spike comes in.

"Seconds, Buttercup. Do you want them?"

"Umm... no, but I wouldn't mind another pop."

"Yes, oh Mistress of the curved television."

"Yeah, yeah."

"I'll help you get the television this weekend if you want."

"Really? Are you sure? What about your arm?"

"I doubt picking out a TV is going to hurt my arm, Buttercup."

"I guess you're right. We can always get a stock person to load it up for us."

"I can load a fucking television, Kayla."

"Whatever, but we'll have to do it Sunday."

"That's fine. I don't have anything planned. Why Sunday, though?"

"I have plans, Saturday."

"You do? I thought you broke things off with Tommy?"

"I did. That doesn't mean I can't still have plans, White."

"Well yeah, I know. It just surprised me. It's cool. We'll plan on it Sunday. I was just hoping you'd go watch the new Rock movie with me this weekend."

"Well, normally I'd never pass up a chance to see the Rock. He is my future husband and all, but I'm going on a date."

"Who with?"

"You have a lot of questions. When did you get so nosy?"

"When I found out that my best friend was getting married to an ass clown and I had no idea. So now I have this need to ask you everything. Therefore, I repeat, who is this date with?"

"I don't know," I sigh, wishing I had never brought this conversation up.

"You don't… Wait, let’s back it up here. How do you have a date this weekend and not know who it is with?"

"Because technically it’s not a date. I'm going to Barney’s."

"Well, Jesus, why didn't you just say that Kayla? I'll go with you. We can swing by there after the movies."

"No, that won't work."

"Okay after."

"No. I mean you can't go with me. It would defeat the purpose."

"The purpose?" he asks, and I take a breath to prepare myself.

"I'm going there to get laid. Having you around as my wingman doesn't really work, since all the men would think they would have to compete with you."

"That's crazy. We're just friends. We don't give off a couple vibe," he says carelessly, and has no idea how much that hurts my feelings.

"Yeah, you're probably right," I agree, ignoring the pain in my gut as I admit that out loud. "Still, I'm going this one solo."

"I don't like the idea of you having a random hookup. That's not who you are, Buttercup. Hell, you didn't sleep with Crenshaw for half a damn year."

"I should have made him wait longer."

"You should have made him wait, period."

"There's no arguing with that.”

"You're not a random-hookup kind of girl, honey."

“How do you know?”

"I've had those girls. Those girls are not you."

"I've decided to be that kind of girl," I tell him, getting up from the floor and walking to the kitchen. There's no movie watching with this conversation, anyway.

"What the fuck for?" he barks, following me like a dog with a freaking bone. Leaving me to wish again that I hadn’t opened my mouth around him at all.

"Because I need sex."

He stops walking and it might be my imagination, but he seems a little white—and I'm talking color, not his name here.

"Okay, this conversation suddenly got weird."

"You wouldn't let it go. So there you are. Can we drop it now?"

"You just broke up with Tommy and before that it was Crenshaw. I mean not to get all up in your business or anything—"

"What's to stop you, now?" I sigh.

"Well, it's just that. I mean, that's not that long of a time to go without."

"God, you and your double standards. You've had sex with three girls all in the same day before."

"Weekend technically, which is two days. And that's different."

"If you tell me it's different because you're a man, I will bash you over the head with this skillet, White Hall Lucas," I growl, rinsing the skillet off to put it in the dishwasher.

"Kay—"

"Besides, I didn't have sex with Tommy, not that it should be any of your business. And Bobby either, after about a month. It wasn't that great, which I guess is the real reason we broke up."

"How the fuck do you get engaged to someone and never sleep with them?"

"I know this is hard for you to understand, but some people can have relationships without sex being involved right out of the gate."

"No one I know, but let’s forget all this for a minute. What's the all-fired hurry to have sex if you've gone this long without it? I don't think I'm following."

"I want to get pregnant."

"Oh," he says, his face completely confused, and then my words must hit him because he blinks. Then he blinks again. "You what?"

"I want to get pregnant."

"I don't think I'm following. No. Scratch that. I pray to God I'm not following. Are you telling me you're going to a bar to have a random hook-up with some guy you don't know, all to get knocked up?"

I wince at the way he describes it. But, since that's exactly what I'm planning, I don't shy away from it. "That'd be correct."

"That'd be correct," he whispers, like he can't believe it. "That'd be correct," he says again, but he's looking down at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck so I can't really see what's on his face, or even guess what he's thinking. That doesn't last for long though because when he looks up, I have to be thankful there's a bar between us. "Are you out of your fucking mind, Kayla?" he yells. And, just so we're clear, when I say he yells, it's not just a little yell. This is the kind of yell you can hear across a crowded room. A very noisy, crowded room.

"I want a child, White," I remind him, refusing to feel guilty.

"There's other ways here, Kayla. Jesus."

"Name one!"

"Adoption."

"Yeah I told you how that meeting went."

"Then there's artificial insemination. I've read about that."

"Yeah, I have too and there's no way I have the kind of money that would take either."

"I'll loan it to you!"

"No way. Absolutely not. You're not giving me money so I can get pregnant."

"Oh, I see. You won't take money from me, your best friend, to get pregnant, but you will hook up with some random fucker at a bar."

"Exactly."

"I guess I should just volunteer to give you my dick. That way, no money is involved, and you will at least know I won't give you a disease that will threaten your fucking life!"

"Will you?"

"Will I what?"

"You know," I whisper, unsure of how to say it. Warmth floods me at just the thought.

"Give you my dick?" he growls coarsely, and I can feel embarrassment fill my face, heating it. This is too important to back down though, so I stand my ground.

"Yes."

"No. Absolutely not. Do you even know what you're asking? I'm not having kids, Kayla, and even if I do, I couldn't sleep with you. You're my best friend. You're like my sister, for Christ's sake."

I can’t stop the flinch that happens from those words, nor the feeling of pain in my stomach.

“I think you better go,” I whisper, feeling very alone and close to the edge.

“Kayla. Buttercup, listen—”

“Leave, White. I need to be alone right now.”

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” he says after standing there silent for a few minutes.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” I agree, not really looking at him. I don’t bother to look up even when he walks beside me and wraps one of his hands around the back of my neck, pulling my head to him.

“It’ll be okay, Buttercup. I love you. We’ll figure this out. Just don’t do anything rash.”

“I won’t,” I tell him, and for some reason I feel like I’m dying inside.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” he repeats and he must wait for me to reply. I don’t, but a couple of minutes later my door closes. I spend another two minutes of standing there, feeling as if there are parts of me lying scattered in pieces at my feet before I sink to the floor and let the tears out. Tears for what could have been, what never will be, and for the simple fact that I’ve always felt on my own, but after White reacted the way he did and left me, I’ve never felt more alone in my life.

CHAPTER 12

WHITE

Fuck. I think I messed up. Kayla's ignoring me. There's one sure way to know when a woman is mad at you and that's when she keeps telling you she's fine. If I hear that she's fine one more time, I might go insane. She's been avoiding me all week and now it's Saturday night. She wasn't at her apartment, so I'm pretty sure I know where the hell she is. I need to paddle her ass. The problem is, the more I think about doing that, the more my mind wanders, and the more I think of Kayla in ways I never have before—in ways I shouldn't. This morning, that was all too clear because I dreamed about her all night. If I don't get a grip on myself here, I'm going to end up ruining our friendship. That can't happen. Kayla is one of the few people in my life besides my family that I don't think I could survive without. I need to back the hell up and get my head on straight—which might be easier if I would quit jacking off every morning in the shower to the memory of her ass in my hands.

I don't know what's going on with me. I thought it was just a matter of getting laid. I haven't even managed to do that. Last night, I turned a woman away who would have given me exactly what I wanted: sex with no strings. One thought of Kayla's beautiful smile and there was just no interest there. My damn cock has been hard all week, except for when I needed him the most.

I pull into Barney's, scoping the parking lot immediately for Kayla's brown Kia Sorento. The place is pretty crowded tonight, so it takes a bit. For the first time in my life, I start to feel real panic, all because I can't find her car anywhere. She knows I'd look for her, so chances are, she picked another bar. Since we're in Dallas, that leaves only a couple hundred or more possible locations. There's no way I can find her. What the fuck am I going to do?

I reach for my cellphone, pull up my texts, and pray Kayla stops being so stubborn.

"Where are you?"

She doesn’t text back, so I try one last Hail Mary and call her, praying she answers.

“What?” she answers and relief floods through me, warring with my anger.

“I asked where you were,” I remind her. She doesn’t answer, and I barely resist throwing the damn phone. "Kayla you either tell me now, or so help me, I'll hunt you down and when I find you, you won't like what I do to you."

I’ve never been one to panic, but I might be close right now. I’m having visions of Kayla meeting a serial killer and being hacked into little pieces. The thought of anyone hurting her, making her cry, or touching her in any way terrifies me. My heart is about to beat out of my chest and that's just from my imagination. Shit. I should have just tied her ass up so this didn't happen.

Preferably to my bed… without clothes… ass up…

I tear my mind away from thoughts of fucking my best friend yet again, and let out a sigh of relief when she finally answers. Kind of.

"Why? Are you going to threaten to paddle my ass again?"

"It won't be a threat. Where the hell are you?"

"Drinking."

"Kayla, I'm warning you."

"I'm fine, White. I don't need a father. I had two of those and neither one was worth much. I'm not in the market for another one."

"Tell me where you are right now."

"I'm sitting at a bar having a drink. I've had several. In fact, I'm getting ready to have another one. I'll talk to you later."

"Damn it, Kayla. Tell me now or you'll regret it."

She doesn't answer. In fact, she hangs up. I cuss for a good five minutes and feel pretty fucking useless. Then I decide to do something I have no right to do. It doesn't stop me. I scroll through the names on my phone, tap one of them, and wait as it rings.

"You know it's going to be a bad day when the brother you never hear from calls you," answers Black.

"Fuck you. You know you love me."

"Whatever. How is my older brother the football star doing?"

"You do realize there’s not that many years between us, right?"

"Sure. But I am much wiser. Oh the things I’ve learned through the years…"

"Like how to tie your shoes?"

"Very funny. Seriously, how's your shoulder healing up? Mom said they put you off the team for another six weeks."

"It's healing up. The owner is just being cautious," I half lie. The truth is, even working out, I feel a weakness in it that I'm starting to worry won't leave.

"You should have them try one of those new cryogenic chambers everyone is talking about."

"Cryo-what?"

"Apparently they make you a human ice man and it’s supposed to promote healing and generate recovery time."

"And freeze my ass off at the same time?"

"Well, everything has drawbacks."

"I'll look into it, maybe if I get desperate. Right now I've got a bigger problem."

"Shit. Who did you murder?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Generally speaking, whenever someone I know calls the cops and says they have a big problem, it has to do with murder."

"Sure it does."

"Not kidding. Smaller problems are a speeding or parking ticket, but big? Yeah, that's when I start wondering where the hell I need to run."

"Maybe you just need a better class of friends."

"I don't have friends. Just you assholes I call family. So what's up?"

"I can't find Kayla."

"What do you mean you can't find her? How long has she been missing?" Black asks, going immediately into cop mode.

My mom is a little crazy in all of the best ways. She wanted my brothers and I to have unique names. Somehow in her nutty head she thought naming us after colors was a good idea. It wasn't.

It didn't help that there were so many of us. One or two names might have been okay, but when you have, Green, Gray, me, Black, Cyan, and Blue… it's not ever okay. In school it earned us the name the Crayon gang, and I don't even want to get started on the hundreds of Crayon jokes we endured.

Black is one of my crazy-ass brothers and one of the ones that I'm closest to. He's also someone who would move Heaven and Earth to help out his family—and that includes Kayla. He's a good guy, if not a bit of a loner, except for occasionally me and definitely my brother Blue. They're twins and are super close in a way I doubt anyone could truly understand unless they had a twin themselves. It's eerie, the way those two are with each other.

"She's not missing. She's at a bar."

"I don't think I understand exactly what you're saying here, White. If you know where's she's at, then what's going on?"

"She's at a bar trying to get laid."

"Ouch, well buddy. She is a grown woman."

“I don’t give a fuck. Hooking up with some random asshole is not—”

“Isn’t that a bit of a double standard? I mean, you do it. Hell, even I do. Fuck, White, I’m pretty sure the whole free world does that shit at one time or another.”

“Not just to get your ass knocked up.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Black growls.

“Kayla wants a baby, and she thinks the only way to make that happen is to go out and—”

“Jesus, fuck. Does she not watch the news? I thought she was marrying that spineless wonder Tommy Haynes.”

“They broke up.”

"She honestly thought this was the best way to have a baby? I swear to Christ I think this whole world has gone fucking insane. Apparently it's even invading my own damn family, which is fucked up since we're all about three fries short of a Happy Meal as it is."

"Yeah, yeah. Can you help me locate her or not?"

"What do you expect me to do? Put an all-points bulletin on her?"

"Can you?"

"Are you fucking insane?"

"You can tell them that she's wanted in connection for a crime and not to be approached. Have them call if they see her."

"That's a great idea, really."

"I thought so."

"Yeah. It really is. I'll get right on it. I just have one question."

"What's that?"

"Are you going to pay my fucking bills when I get fired for wasting the department’s resources for personal uses?"

"Come on, man. I wouldn't ask. But this is an emergency. I've got to get to her before something happens to her."

"Kayla's always been levelheaded. I don't see her taking unnecessary risks."

"Unprotected sex with someone she doesn't know is a risk, period. And what if some sick fuck hurts her, man? You gotta help me here."

"Jesus. Is she that determined to have a kid? I mean, she's only… what? Twenty something? Surely she knows there's time for her to—"

"She's nearing thirty and she's obsessed with it. You have to help me here. Help me find her so I can just talk her down."

"Fuck, if she's that determined, why don't you just volunteer?"

"Now you sound like Mom."

"Well, normally I'd set your head on fire for a remark like that. Still, I'm serious. Kayla's a beautiful woman and you two have always been extremely close. You can't tell me—"

"Kayla's like my sister," I lie. I might have used that excuse before with Mom, but fuck, what I've been doing at night these past few days definitely has nothing to do with being a brother.

"Damn, that sucks. I always thought the two of you could have something special. I got an idea. Give me a minute to see if it will work," Black says, and I breathe a little easier—at least, if I ignore the knot in my stomach.

I always thought you two could have had something special.

Shit. Has everyone thought of the two of us together? Why haven’t I? Well, until recently, I mean. The idea of Kayla and me in a relationship is laughable… right?

I mean, we’re too different. Except in all the ways that really count.

I don’t want kids. She definitely does.

Except having a child with Kayla wouldn’t be horrible. She’s not like other women. She wouldn’t use a child as a weapon. I wouldn’t have to worry about the child when I couldn’t be there. Not with Kayla. She’d be an amazing mother.

An image of Kayla’s stomach rounded with a child and her dark brown eyes laughing at me comes to mind and the strangest fucking thing happens. My dick jerks and slowly, as if I was watching the best fucking porno in my life, stretches to life in my jeans and doesn’t stop until he’s so fucking hard that it literally aches.

So much for claiming we’re not sexually attracted one another. Clearly that’s not an issue. At least not for me. Thankfully, Black comes back on the phone and saves me from my own thoughts.

“She’s at 1846 Carolina Avenue, downtown.”

“What? How do you know?”

“I had a buddy ping her phone. There’s a bar there called Dempsey’s. I’d say she’s there, brother.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you one.”

“More like a hundred. Go get your woman.”

“She’s not mine,” I deny, but Black’s already hung up. His words are still echoing in my head when I start my truck and head downtown.

To get Kayla… who is not my woman. But who I definitely want to fuck. There’s no denying that with my dick practically ripping through my jeans at the moment.

CHAPTER 13

KAYLA

My phone vibrates a couple of times after I hang up on White, but I ignore it and the guilt that tries to grab ahold of me. I don’t owe him or anyone an explanation. He ruined my perfect plan. Okay, it was perfect until he brought up the whole disease thing. Call me a freak, but I didn’t really think about that. I know it sounds crazy, and judge me if you want to, but it’s not like I have sex all the time with men I don’t know. Let’s be more honest: it’s not like I have sex that often. Period. The furthest thing from my mind was getting diseases. Now I can’t help but obsess about it.

I’ve been sitting here in this bar for two hours, nursing my second beer, and no matter who I look at, the end result is always the same: Does he have Crabs? Syphilis? Gonorrhea? Chlamydia or worse? To be honest I don’t even know what half of those are. I’ve just heard of them and know that I don’t want to ever experience them.

White did this. He ruined my plan. The bastard.

I came here tonight thinking if I pick out a man who looks clean, wears expensive clothes, and is well-spoken then I could chance it. I’ve met two of those and, yeah, I’m not willing to chance it.

All of this boils down to one thing: I need to find another plan. One that doesn’t involve putting my life in danger. Which is why I’m sitting at a table, in a crowded bar, on a Saturday night, writing in a notebook. Not just any notebook. No, this one is a pink glitter notebook with a matching glitter pen. Whenever I write on the paper, the ink is glittery too, and that makes me smile. This is needed since what I’m writing is a list of names. Names of men I know. Men who might want to donate some baby batter for the cause.

I realize that sounds pitiful. It, however, is not as pitiful as the fact that the list has a whopping four names on it. One of those is half crossed out because, well, it’s Tommy and only in pure desperation would I be able to lower my pride to go there. The other name is a coworker and I’m not even a hundred percent sure that he in fact has the correct parts. I’m not being mean or anything, but he has boobs that rival mine. They could be man boobs, but I’ve always wondered. The next name is Bobby Crenshaw, my ex who wasn’t a great catch for sure, but I know him, and he’s comfortable. It helps that I know he could do what was needed—even if it wouldn’t be very eventful.

The last name on the list is one I keep circling over and over and I hate myself for it. White. I need to get him out of my mind and definitely out of my heart. With that in mind I make a line through his name.

There’s only one other name that I can think of that might work. So, I write it down now. One other name: Green Lucas. White’s brother. I know him almost as well as I know White. He’s had horrible taste in women, especially since he’s been in love with Tommy’s ex Cynthia most of his life. That aside, he’s sweet, honest, a great father, and a good friend. He could work. He may have to work, if I go this route. I sigh, closing the notebook and sticking the pen in the coiled spine.

“Let’s go.”

My head jerks up to see White standing over me. His face is tight in anger, his tanned skin has a light blush, and his hair is rumpled. Frustration is coming off of him in waves. He’s wearing tight jeans and a long-sleeved blue button-up shirt. He looks good, unbelievably good, and that irritates me. Can’t the man have one night where he has a bad hair day? A wart on his nose? A mole on his neck shaped like a big toe with hair growing out of it? Something. Anything besides perfection.

“Can’t you ever look bad? Is that so much to ask?”

“Huh?”

“Never mind,” I sigh, taking a sip of my beer to discover that it’s stale. I suppose I’ve been nursing it for way too long. I hold up a hand, motioning for the waitress. White reaches over and grabs it, pushing it down.

"What are you doing?" he demands.

"Ordering a drink."

"I think you've had enough, Kayla."

"Actually, White, I've barely had anything. This is only my second beer and it's flat. I want another one."

"We need to leave."

"You should go ahead and do that then, but I'm not leaving."

"I'm not going to let you do this, Kayla. It's not happening!"

"Order a beer? Why the hell not?"

"No, not order a beer. You're not going to hook up with some asshole tonight. It's not happening," he repeats.

"I don't think it's really any of your business," I growl, pissed off because he thinks he has the right to dictate to me.

"You're my best friend."

"Okay, fine. Did I tell you not to sleep with Lori Petrotski?"

"Who? What are you talking about?"

"The girl you dated my senior year in high school, remember?"

"Oh. Jesus, I forgot about her. She was following me around like a little lost puppy."

"More like a dog in heat," I correct him.

"Yeah, so I decided to throw her a bone," he recalls with a smirk.

"Exactly. I knew she wasn't your type. I knew she was way too clingy, but I didn't take it upon myself to warn you to stay away."

"God, she was. The girl had serious problems. She followed me to training camp that year. She was waiting for me in my dorm one night, did I tell you? Fuck, I still don't know how she managed it. I got in bed and there she was. Told me she was keeping the bed warm for me. Started talking about what we would do when we got out of school, like our lives were set in stone. We'd have a brick house, two kids, the works."

"See? So you had to learn for yourself. You kicked her out of bed and sent her on her way. I didn't get involved.”

"Well, not exactly. I gave her one more night to remember me by."

"God, I can't believe you."

"I'm joking, mostly. Anyway, that was years ago. I'm not that person anymore and that has nothing to do with the here and now."

"It has everything to do with it."

"Please tell me how Lori Petra-whatever has anything to do with the fact that you're planning on getting knocked up by a random stranger."

"Petrotski," I correct, getting more annoyed with him by the minute.

"Whatever."

"I'm pointing out that our friendship works because I stay out of your sex life and you stay out of mine."

"You don't have one."

"I'm trying to fix that! The point still is that you need to stay out of it."

"You are not fixing it by sleeping with someone you don't know. Especially without protection. If I have to carry you out of here over my shoulder, Buttercup, it's—”

"Yeah, I know. It’s not happening,” I mock, trying to imitate his voice. His big, dumb, deliciously deep and sexy voice. “I could hate you," I sigh. "If you must know, I've decided against that plan."

"Christ, thank God for small favors."

"I'm rolling my eyes at you yet again, White Hall. Anyway, you might have had a small point. I should worry about diseases and things."

"Damn straight you should."

"And I do. So I'm making a list," I inform him, my hands folded over the notebook on the table.

"A list?"

“Of potential baby daddies."

"A list?"

"You're repeating yourself."

"That's because I can't believe you're this crazy. I used to think you were so calm and shy. How the fuck did I miss that you're Looney Tunes crazy?"

"If you're done insulting me for the night, you really should be on your way now."

"Let me see your list," he orders, and panic fills me. Shit. His name is on there. There's no way he's seeing my list.

"No way," I tell him, clutching my notebook closer to guard him from it.

"Let me see it, Kayla."

"I said no." As in no way, Jose. I've suffered enough embarrassment lately.

"Fine."

"Fine," I agree with a breath of relief.

I should have known it wouldn't be that easy because White reaches over and hones in on my stomach, just at the side, under my breast. It's the most ticklish spot on my body, which isn't easy because I'm pretty much ticklish all over. It doesn't take him long and I'm squealing like a little kid. I bring my hands up to try and pull his much larger one away and that's when I realize my mistake and White grabs the notebook with his free hand.

"Give that to me, you asshole!" I growl, trying to fight for it back, but White defends my attempts as if it was nothing, all the while opening the notebook that holds the damning list. I give up as I see it open. Fear and shock war with one another. My stomach sinks as I realize he's going to read it. I hold my head down and wonder how I can play this off.

Crap.

CHAPTER 14

WHITE

I know I'm being an asshole. I just can't stop myself. I have this deep-seated need to see who is on that damned list. When she told me she wasn't scoping the joint for someone to take home, it was like this huge weight had been lifted off of me. It soon came back and crushed me all over again when she told me her next harebrained scheme.

I open the notebook and the first name makes me want to shake her. Tommy. Fuck no. End of discussion. I don't know the next name but when I see man-boobs written in a big pink glitter square along with the words “Is he a he?” I'm pretty sure this guy is as fucked up as her other choices. Another, no. Bobby Crenshaw? Does she not remember how miserable she was with that sad-sack? That'd be a big hell no.

The next name on the list causes my heart to lodge in my throat and my dick to push so hard against my jeans, it's painful. She wrote my name on this damn list, even after I was an asshole yesterday. Of course there’s a line through it, but I’m choosing to ignore that. Instead, I wonder. Obviously I'm having fantasies about my best friend that normally I'd steer one hundred and fifty percent clear of. This time, however, maybe it would be a good idea. I can work these feelings out of my system while giving Kayla what she wants. What could be the harm in that? It's like two friends helping each other out.

Before I can discuss it with her, however, I catch sight of the last name on the list. Green Lucas. My brother. My motherfucking brother is on a list of Kayla's potential candidates for knocking her up. My brother.

Well, that sure as hell is not going to work. Absolutely not. Over my fucking dead body.

"White," she starts, and I can see fear in her eyes. She's right to be afraid. She should be afraid. I should do what I threatened and carry her out of here, take her home, then spank her ass until it was so sore she couldn't sit down for a month. It'd be red and swollen and I'd need to take care of her. Maybe jack off and spread my cum all around it to soothe the ache.

What the hell is wrong with me?

This is Kayla I'm thinking about. My Kayla. My best friend. My buddy. The woman who has my brother on her list as a potential sperm donor. Son of a bitch.

"Green?"

"What? Oh! Yeah, I think it might work. He's obviously the best choice."

The best choice?

"I don't see that," I tell her. "I don't see that at all," I growl, flagging down a passing waitress.

"What are you doing?" she asks, watching me.

"Ordering a drink," I tell her, even if it's not necessary since the waitress comes over and I order a whiskey neat.

"I'll have one too!" Kayla chimes in, and I look back at her. "What? If you can have a drink, I can too. Especially since you already made sure I wasn't about to have baby making sex tonight."

"I don't think you need to drink. A person in your shape shouldn't be drinking."

"My shape?" she asks.

"Bat-shit crazy," I growl after a minute. Before she can say anything in response, the waitress comes back and puts our drinks down. "I'll have another one when you get time," I tell her.

I down the drink in one long, large gulp. It burns as it goes down, but nothing compared to the fire I already have in my gut thinking about Kayla in bed with my own fucking brother. The brother that she was in love with years and years ago.

"White?"

"I thought you didn't think of Green like that anymore?"

"Like what?"

"You know. Why the fuck is my brother on your list of sperm donors, Kayla?"

"Will you keep your voice down??" she hisses, but I've been an ass since I walked through the fucking door and I might as well keep it up.

"Why? You're planning on sleeping with my brother to harvest his sperm. Why should you be ashamed if everyone hears it?" I growl. The waitress puts down my other drink, her eyes large. Kayla grabs her notebook. I let her; it doesn't fucking matter anymore. She stands up and I look at her. "Where are you going?"

"I'm not staying here and letting you insult me. I've had enough."

"You put my brother on your damned list."

"So? He's a good choice. Shouldn't you be more concerned that your name is on the list?" she asks, her cheeks heated. She has a point, but then she doesn't know the fantasies she's been starring in lately. I'm not about to tell her, especially now that I know I'm interchangeable in her mind with my own fucking brother.

"I get it, Buttercup. Any Lucas brother will do, right? Why not go for Cyan? He's the baby brother. He’s younger. His swimmers are probably more potent. Sit down, will you? You're taking my attention from my drink."

"Ohhh… Cyan! I didn't think about him. Do you think he'd be willing?"

Be willing?

"Christ on a merry-go-round," I mutter, kicking myself for giving her yet another Lucas brother to daydream about. "Cyan's off-limits!"

"Off-limits? Why?"

"He's in love with the town librarian."

"What? No way! Alice? How did I not know that?"

"Nobody knows it. Alice is afraid of her own shadow. If she knew a horn dog like my brother was looking at her, she'd die of a heart attack."

"He needs to tell her. They would be such a cute couple."

"No. They wouldn't."

"What? Of course they would! What are you talking about?"

"You know my brother. Cyan has certain tastes. There's no way Alice, as quiet, shy, and prissy as she is, could ever live up to that."

"Tastes?"

"He goes to sex bars."

"Sex bars? What's that?"

"Underground sex clubs. He likes watching and being watched."

"Watching and being… Oh. My. God," she exhales, her face heating up so bright that it could glow in the dark. “Alice would never do that."

"And that's why Cyan hasn't made his move."

"That's kind of sad. It also crosses Cyan off my list. I have enough trouble revealing my body to one man, let alone a whole roomful."

"You've got a beautiful body," I tell her without thinking as I finish off my second drink.

"Oh. Uh, thank you."

"I'm serious, Buttercup," I tell her as the waitress puts down another drink. I'm feeling a little loose, so this should probably be my last real drink. No sense in pushing myself over the edge. Kayla is giving me enough headaches; I don't need to give myself a hangover too. "You've got a banging body."

"Maybe you should stop drinking now," she cautions.

"I'm not drunk, not even close. Since when did you get hung up about sex? It's something we should be able to talk freely about."

"I'm not hung up about sex. It just feels strange to talk about sex… with you."

"You mean you can put me on a potential donor list, but not actually talk about sex with me?"

"Well, that's different."

"How so?" I ask her, genuinely interested, plus this stops her from talking, or even thinking, about my brothers.

"Well, I mean there's not much talking during sex. But, to just graphically discuss everything..."

"Honey, I don't know what you're used to, but there's definitely talking during sex."

"I…"

"And graphic details make fucking fun."

"It does?" Kayla asks, and she has no idea what she's doing to me. Her pale face is heated. Her brown hair is pulled back in a ponytail high on her head, but there are pieces of it framing her face. Her eyes have this huge softness to them that stirs something deep inside of me. She looks innocent and beautiful. So innocent, a man can't help but want to be the one to introduce her to things she's never experienced, and claim that innocence for his own. Fuck. It's like I've opened this giant Pandora's Box where Kayla is concerned and no matter what I do, I just can't get away from it. I want my best friend.

I want her so bad, my damned balls are blue right now.

CHAPTER 15

KAYLA

“Christ, those ass-clowns you’ve been with have showed you nothing,” White mumbles, taking another drink. I’d argue with him, but he’s mostly telling the truth.

"White, I'm thinking we should leave."

"How do you expect to make this work if you don't really know what to do with a man?"

"I know what to do," I argue, not liking the way he's making me feel. I might not be as practiced at sex as he is, but I know the essentials and that's all I need for this.

"It's not about what to do, Buttercup. It's about letting yourself go. It's about showing a man you have what he wants. What he needs."

"I don't think we should discuss—"

"I'm on your list. I think it's the perfect thing for us to discuss. If we do this, then we need to be able to communicate about everything."

"If we? You mean… you want to…?"

“I sure as hell would rather it be me than any of the other assholes on that list."

"Your brother is not an asshole."

"He's an idiot when it comes to women, and those other men are not men at all. That leaves me."

"But you don't think of me like that," I remind him, trying to cap the excitement bubbling up inside of me, but failing.

"I think that's where you need lessons."

"Lessons?"

"On exactly how to seduce a man."

"I thought we were discussing you and I having sex, I don't think I understand what you're saying."

"I'm saying that up until lately… this point, I've always seen you as asexual."

"Well, that's reassuring," I grumble, feeling embarrassed all over again.

"It's just the truth. So, you need to make me see you as a woman."

"Make you see me as a woman?"

"Yep."

"And how do you figure I do that, White Hall? Rip my shirt off and show you my boobs?" I grumble. I mean, how more humiliating can this conversation get? The man that I've been all but grieving over for half my life says I need to make him see me as a woman. I wave the waitress down and order a sangria. I'm going to need something to survive this. Luckily, White doesn't make any snide remarks about my drinking this time. No, he's busy staring at my boobs like he's about to agree to my offer. "No. Absolutely not. I'm not about to take my shirt off in the middle of a crowded bar, White Hall Lucas!"

He swallows and looks up at me with a strange look on his face. "If you're going to say no to everything, Kayla, this is going to be almost impossible," he says.

I sigh. The waitress brings my drink and I sip it before I respond. His idea isn't a bad one, and of all the names on the list, White would be my choice—in more ways than one.

"Fine. What do you suggest? That doesn't involve me stripping naked in a crowded bar," I warn him before he can respond.

"That limits my choices," he says.

"Welcome to my world."

"Fine. Then you should kiss me," White says, like that's the most normal thing in the world.

"Kiss you?"

"Yep. Kiss me and kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me like you do a man you're inviting into your bed."

"Fine. Let's go."

"Go?"

"Home, so we can try this crazy idea of yours."

"No. Here."

"Here?"

"Yeah. Kiss me here, Buttercup. Kiss me right now in this bar and make me forget about all the other women here but you."

My eyes go huge. I can't help it. Talk about pressure. Does he have any idea what he's asking? Kiss the man I love for only the second time in my life? The first time we shared a kiss, I was sixteen and I thought it was the best kiss in my life. White obviously didn't feel the same and that begun our long history of me secretly wishing my best friend was my boyfriend. As I grew older, I knew he loved me, just like I always knew my love for him was different than anything he would ever feel for me. Now I need to forget all of that and just kiss him. Kiss him so he forgets all the other women in the room. Why do I do this kind of stuff to myself? Wouldn't I rather pull my fingernails out with tweezers? Slather myself up in honey and lay on an anthill? Anything?

"Kayla?" White prompts, dragging my attention back to him.

"What if you… we… hate it?"

"Then we'll know you should talk to Green."

"Not Cyan?"

"Definitely not Cyan."

"Blue has always been really sweet to me."

"He thinks of you like a sister."

"So do you."

"I will if you don't ever kiss me, now quit stalling."

"You know, Blue might be the better choice. He even asked me out once. The pressure wouldn't be there to make him see me as a woman."

"Blue asked you out? When the fuck did Blue ask you out?"

"Last year. I told him no, of course. It would have made family gatherings too strange if things hadn't worked out."

"Son of a bitch."

"What?"

"How much more shit have you been keeping from me?"

"What are you talking about now?"

"I mean, I didn't know you were dating Tommy. I didn't know my own brother asked you out. I sure as hell didn't know you were planning on having a child. What else don't I know about you, Kayla Graham?"

"Just because you're my best friend, White, it doesn't mean we have to know everything about each other. Especially about our private lives."

"You do about me."

"Not entirely. I sure didn't know you had slept with my sister Rachel."

"I didn't. But that's a story for another time. Now quit stalling and kiss me."

"You didn't? That's not the story she told me."

"Your sister is unstable. Are you going to kiss me or do we forget this whole plan?"

"Is there a third option?"

"I could paddle your ass."

"You really do have an obsession with asses. How did I miss that over the years?"

"Kayla," he warns, his voice grumpy and dark despite the half-smile on his face.

"Fine," I huff, and then before I second guess myself, I lean in and press my lips to his.

CHAPTER 16

WHITE

How have I always taken for granted the way that Kayla makes me feel when we're talking? Spending time with her makes me happy. Hell it soothes something inside of me. Even pissed off and making a solemn, if not silent, promise to punch Blue in the face, I'm smiling. I'm being an ass, making Kayla kiss me, but I'm not about to confess just yet that I've been jacking off until my dick is raw thinking about fucking her. I don't think she'd understand. No. This is much better. And as crazy as all this sounds, I plan on slowly getting her addicted to me. It's crazy and I would have never thought that I was capable of these emotions, but I plan on claiming Kayla—every fucking way I can.

She brings her lips to mine and the spicy sweet taste of her somehow warms me. Her lips are plump and solid around mine. And when I say they're solid, I mean she's not moving them. This will never work. I want to take control, but at the same time, this is just too good. I pull away with a fake, heavy sigh.

"This isn't working, honey."

"It's not?" she asks, and the disappointment on her face is so apparent that I waiver in my handling of her.

"That's how you kiss a brother or a friend. Not a potential lover."

"But, I thought you'd take over."

"No, this is all you. I told you, you have to show me what you want from me. Make me believe it too."

"God, you're high maintenance."

I want to laugh. Instead I shrug, like I haven't got a care in the world.

"Fine. Give me your lips."

"No."

"No?" she nearly screeches, and I have to bite onto the corner of my lip to keep from laughing out loud. Who knew kissing could be so much fun? I have a feeling Kayla might make everything more fun.

"You're in charge, Buttercup. Remember? You're seducing me."

"I'd rather bang you over the top of your head," she mutters, leaning into me again. Her tongue comes out to moisten her lips. I'm hypnotized by the way it moves. Her lips are pale pink, glossy, and inviting against the deeper ruby red of her tongue. I have the strangest urge to capture that tongue in my teeth and refuse to let her leave.

I don't get a chance because her lips are gliding over mine, leaving a heated taste of brandy and pineapple in its wake from her drink. Her tongue pushes against my lips, and it takes all the strength I have not to open for her. Her tongue tries to gain entry again. Her fingers tangle into the t-shirt I'm wearing. She breaks away just a bit, her dark eyes huge on mine.

"Open for me," she complains, her voice soft.

"Make me," I dare her, nearing the end of my chain. Any minute and I'm going to break free, unable to control the needs in my body. Kayla lets out a whimper filled with frustration and I vow to myself to make her give me that noise again and again as I torture her body sexually. She has no idea the animal inside of me that she tempts. Shit! Until a few days ago, I didn't even know it exists.

Her fingers claw into the fine hair on my chest and there's a painful tug even through my shirt. I'm about to break and take complete control when Kayla surprises me. The little witch bites my lip. It's not a gentle bite either. It's hard. I open and her tongue dives inside. Brandy and fruit explode on my tongue along with a taste of cherries in the spring that can only be Kayla. It all combines and then mixes with a coppery taste to confirm that she did nick my lip. Somehow the thought of driving Kayla to that point makes me throb even harder than I thought possible.

My hand goes up to her neck, wrapping along the delicate curve. Now it's me pulling her closer. I let my thumb rest against her pulse point and groan as her tongue wars and fights with mine, our kiss deepening. Kayla groans and I swallow it as my other hand slides under the fabric of her shirt, brushing against the soft, heated skin of her stomach. Her body trembles and that makes me feel stronger than I ever have before. My hand continues exploring her stomach, and I don’t stop until my thumb brushes against the underside of her breast, teasingly swiping back and forth. Even that's not enough. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I have a feeling that nothing will ever be enough where Kayla is concerned.

I forget that we are in a crowded room. I think I’ve even forgotten my own name. I forget everything but me, Kayla, and the feel of her in my arms. I push my fingers up under her bra, wanting to hold her breast, needing it like my next breath. I’m thinking of nothing, but how it will feel touching her without clothes in the way.

My thumb swipes across her nipple. It's plump and hard with need. Her body shivers in reaction and she gasps, pulling away from me. Her eyes open slowly and I watch every agonizing second until those deep brown beauties look up at me. Desire and need are shining in them like a fucking beacon.

"White," she whispers, her voice hoarse, raspy in a way I've never heard it before. I instantly know I will need to hear her that way over and over.

"That was a hell of a kiss, honey," I tell her and I don't recognize my own voice.

"White," she whispers again, bringing her eyes down, and I use the hold on her neck to bring them back up to me. I want to see them. Shit. I need to.

"What is it?"

"You're holding my breast," she whispers, her face pink.

It's then that I realize my hand is under her bra, kneading her breast and still playing with her nipple.

"It feels fucking good."

"Anyone could see," she whispers, trying to look around, but I keep my hold solid, not letting her move.

"They can't. They might wonder, but they can't see, and I find I don't really want to take my hand away."

"That might be a little difficult since I need to go to the restroom."

"Spoilsport."

"White," she says sternly, but I hear the smile in her voice.

"Answer me one question."

"What's that?"

"Are you horny?"

"Good Lord. You're so debonair and smooth."

"It's a gift. But you didn't answer. Are you?"

"Yes, though now I'm trying to figure out why."

"Good," I tell her, bending down to give her a quick kiss. Regretfully, I pull my hand away, fixing her bra with a final pinch of her nipple, just to hear the gasp leave her lips again.

"White!"

"I think our experiment is complete for tonight, Buttercup."

"Our experiment? Complete?" she asks, thoroughly confused. She stands up slowly and it gives me a thrill of accomplishment that she seems just the slightest bit unsteady on her feet.

"You made me forget every woman in here, Kayla. Every woman but you."

"Oh," she whispers and, impossibly, more color floods her face. "Does that mean we're going to, well… do this?"

"Most definitely."

"Oh," she says, standing there as if she's frozen.

"Kayla?"

"Yeah?"

"Weren't you going to the restroom?"

"What?"

"The restroom, honey. You're standing up to go there?"

"Oh. Yeah. Okay. I'll be back then. In a bit."

"I'll be here," I tell her, and she looks at me as if she's still not sure what she is doing, then leaves. I watch her go and it takes everything in me not to follow her and fuck her right now.

I have the strangest feeling I may be getting in over my head with Kayla Graham. I just don't care enough to stop.

CHAPTER 17

KAYLA

"White? What are you doing here?"

"Well, good morning to you too, Buttercup."

"It's early."

"It is."

"On a Sunday."

"That too," White agrees.

"I'm sorry. I'm not feeling great. Did we have plans today or something?"

"We were supposed to go shop for a TV, remember? What's wrong with you?" White asks, pushing his way through the door and walking past me. He sets two bags on the bar and turns around to look at me. I feel heat hit my body. After our kiss at the bar, White and I left. I thought he might come inside my apartment and maybe continue what we started. Sadly, he didn't. He followed me home, because we were in separate vehicles, then walked me to my door and kissed me goodbye. And by kiss I mean he kissed me on the forehead. Like you would a child… or a friend. I was so confused after he left. I still am. The last thing I expected was to see him today. I pretty much wrote off our plans to TV shop. Part of me is thrilled that he's here, but sadly I'm really in too much pain to worry about it. I wasn't kidding when I told him I wasn't feeling great. If anything, that was a gross understatement of fact.

"I've got a migraine."

"Did you take the meds your doctor prescribed?" he asks. He knows how horrible they can be.

"Yeah, it's not really helping it, though. My plan was to die slowly in bed."

"Aw, honey. Okay, first things first," he says, reaching around me to turn the light off. The room goes back to dark. It doesn't make a difference in the amount of sledgehammers crushing my skull, but it does ease the double vision, mildly. Next he bends down and sweeps me up in his arms.

"White," I groan, because as much as I love being in his arms, the pain that moves up my spine when he jostles me negates the pleasure.

"It's okay, honey. I have you," he whispers, holding me close. He carries me into the bedroom and lays me gently on the bed. "I'll be right back," he says as I curl in a ball, closing my eyes.

"You don't have to do this," I tell him, pulling a pillow over my head. He leaves the room without answering me. I figure he left me to die in peace. Instead I'm surprised when he comes back in. I moan when he pulls the pillow off my head. Then I feel something warm press against the back of my neck. A heating pad. I let him move me so I'm lying with my head on his lap. Once he gets me settled, he puts a warm cloth over my eyes. I lie there and slowly the heat begins to enter my system. The headache doesn't magically disappear, but it does lighten to just a dull roar echoing in my head. Eventually I feel his fingers combing through my hair. Even sick as a dog and in pain, I have to say it feels nice.

"Thank you," I whisper.

"I've got you, Buttercup."

"You always seem to," I tell him, trying not to worry about the future—and failing.

"That's not going to change."

"What if we ruin our friendship, White?" I whisper the one thing that's been bothering me since the amazing make-out session we shared at the bar.

"That will never happen, Kayla. We won't let it," he insists, and I know that's how he feels and maybe he even believes it. Still, I can't help but remember the one thing that makes all the difference.

"You don't want kids, White."

"I'm not going to lie, Buttercup. I've never wanted kids. I've seen what a mess having a child made in Green's life. Still, that was him and his taste in women generally sucks. You and I care about each other and the trust is there. I think it would be different. I'm hoping it will be."

Think… Hoping…

Those words do nothing to allay my fears. What if I go through with this and it destroys the relationship that White and I have? Can I survive not having him in my life? Is it unfair to force a child on him by letting him agree to this when he's doing it mainly because he's trying to save me from myself or a messy relationship with someone else? Doubts churn in my stomach.

"White, I'm having second thoughts about all of this. I don't think this is something that you truly want and I don't want to be the reason that you grow to resent me or our friendship."

"Kayla, stop worrying. I think our first step should be going to the doctor and making sure everything checks out okay. I want you to be able to know that I'm healthy and more than able to give you what you want most."

I'm glad he has a towel over my eyes. His words cause every feminine part in me to clench with need. He has no idea, but the thing I want the most is him. I want a child, don't get me wrong, but if I could have White for the rest of my life and he couldn't ever have a child, I would not give a damn. Not even a little. He would be more than enough, which means that making him tie himself to me could be the most selfish thing in the world. Sure, we could say the friendship would remain and we'd be fine. But for me, watching him with another woman, maybe even falling in love and having kids with her, while I am on the sidelines in his life with a child created in friendship, sounds like Hell on Earth. Could I live like that?

"I'm not worried about your soldiers being able to swim, White. With as many brothers and sisters as you have, genetics has to win out. I'm pretty sure you could knock up a sand flea buried in the Sahara.”

“I could… what?”

“Then again, you have slept with a million women and none of those have produced little crayons.”

“I wouldn’t say a million, and of course they haven’t. I’ve made sure—”

“I just… White, I'm not sure about all of this. If we get tested and they ask you how many partners you’ve been with? There’s no way you can remember them all.”

“I haven’t slept with a million women," he says, and he hasn't. I'm obviously exaggerating, but it hasn't exactly been a small number either.

"Still, maybe it'd be best to call this off, White. No harm, no foul." I try to figure out how I can just get out of this. No matter how much I want a child, it is not worth losing White over.

"We'll go get tested. End of discussion."

"White."

"Rest now, Buttercup. I need you to get feeling better. It's all going to work out just fine," he says, leaning down to kiss the side of my neck.

I don't respond. He may sound convinced about all of this, but I'm far from it.

CHAPTER 18

WHITE

She’s trying to back out.

I’m finding myself in a strange position here. I’m fighting to hold Kayla to the deal and she’s fighting to get out of it. We’ve got an appointment in two days to go to her doctor and get tested. She’s been trying ever since I forced her to make the appointment to get out of it. I’ve been spending my time ignoring her. It hasn’t helped a lot. She’s getting more insistent about it. Tonight I have plans to stop that completely. It’s not playing fair, but I don’t necessarily feel like playing fair. I’m not about to let Kayla go to a different name on her list. Especially any of my brothers. She’s wants a baby, then by God she’ll have mine and no one else’s.

I think the problem here is she’s worried about the chemistry between us. Which is what tonight is about. I look up at the clock. Almost seven. Kayla had a parent-teacher conference after school. She doesn’t expect to see me tonight. I had other plans. I check the steaks and pull them out of the oven to let them rest. I did most of the cooking on top, and just stuck them in there to finish. They should be perfect now. I’m throwing the last of the salad together when Kayla walks through the door. She stops and does a double take before grinning sheepishly.

“You really are giving your key to my apartment a work out lately, aren’t you?”

“Are you hungry?”

“It depends. Is that steak I smell?”

“Medium-well with roasted garlic potatoes and a salad.”

“Then I’m starved,” she sighs, putting her coat down on the chair by the door and walking towards me with a huge smile. She’s wearing a turquoise dress with a V neckline that hangs on her loosely. Except for the color, it doesn’t do a thing for her, but to me right now she looks beautiful.

“Did you have a good day?”

“It wasn’t horrible, and considering I had twenty kindergarten children finger-painting it could have been.”

“Sounds like a colorful day.”

“Cute. Do I have time to shower before this meal?”

“Can you shower in twenty minutes?”

“Ten if there’s dessert involved.”

“Go shower, Buttercup. I think I got you covered.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she says before heading down the hall to her bedroom.

I get the plates together and dish everything up and then stop. The house is quiet. I never noticed it before Kayla got home, but now it’s weighing down on me. I hear every tick of the clock on the wall and the hum of the refrigerator. Even the air pump to her fish tank sounds twice as loud as normal. What is the loudest of all, however, is the sound of the shower turning on. I don’t know how it’s possible to hear it all the way in here, yet I do. I should ignore it. Tonight was about moving slowly and not scaring her away.

I go over every reason I shouldn’t do this in my head. It doesn’t help. I find myself walking down the hall to her room.

Anticipation runs through my body the closer I get. My fists clench and unclench as I make it to her bathroom. Through the clouded glass of her shower, I can see her body’s silhouette. It is misshaped and peach in hue, moving fluidly. Nothing is recognizable and still it turns me on like nothing else has in my life. I’m transfixed, glued to her muddled image, but nothing could have prepared me for the view when her body turns toward me. Maybe it’s my imagination, but I can see her clearer. Clear enough that I can see her hands move over her breasts. I grieve that I can’t see them better. I need to—more than my next breath. That’s the only reason I can fathom for doing what I shouldn’t.

I walk to the shower and open the door. Kayla gasps, her brown eyes large, her hair darker and pinned by the water. Her hands move to her breasts to shield her as the suds from the soap follow a beautiful slippery slope down her body, moving breathtakingly slow. I take her in. All of her—from the delicate curve of her neck and shoulder, to her large breasts being held by her hands, to the way her hips flare out, to the slight curve in her stomach, and then… lower.

Everything about Kayla is feminine. I’ve always known that. For obvious reasons, I’ve never imagined what Kayla looked like under her clothes. I. Was. A. Fool. She’s not bare like so many women, like the ones I’m used to. There’s a thin line of pale hair at her entrance. It’s been neatly trimmed and it looks so uniquely Kayla and makes me ache. I knew being with her would be different than any other woman I’ve ever been with. It had to be because I care about Kayla. She’s special. Suddenly it hits me that it’s going to be different because for the first time in my life, it matters.

“White? What are you doing?” Kayla whispers.

What am I doing?

CHAPTER 19

KAYLA

White standing there is like every fantasy I've ever had come true. Then I remember I'm naked and it's rolled into one big nightmare. I try to cover myself, my hands automatically going to my boobs in defense. Then, I realize my freaking va-jay-jay is hanging out with a big sign that says: "Taco Tuesday! All you can eat!"

Okay, that part might be wishful thinking.

I turn to the side to try and hide as best as I can. This is White. I may have had this fantasy since I was old enough to crave—really crave—sex. But, it wasn't supposed to happen until I started going to the gym, maybe dropped about fifty pounds, and definitely not until I got an all over spray tan.

"Will you close the door? What's going on with you??"

"Fuck, honey," he mumbles, but he doesn't move. He doesn't do anything but stare.

"White?"

"You're beautiful," he says, his voice hoarse.

"I… are you okay?" I ask, because I have no idea what's going on here. I'm starting to think he banged his head on something. It's the only explanation I can come up with.

"I will be," he says, but he's still not looking at me. Well, my eyes, at least. I reach up to grab the towel I had thrown over the shower doorframe. "No fucking way," he growls, pulling the towel away from me.

"What is wrong with—??" I break off when he pushes into the shower, making what was once a large shower feel incredibly small. My eyes go huge, my breath lodges in my throat, and he pulls me, so I face him. His eyes are a deeper blue than I remember, or maybe it's the water that's running in them. His face is tight with tension radiating from him. Before I can question him further, he finally speaks—sort of.

"Jesus-fucking-Christ."

I jump at the harsh growl, confused and afraid to guess what's going on, even though I think I know. I hope I know.

His lips crush mine. There's not a chance for anything other than a moan as his tongue forces its way into my mouth and takes it over. I've been dreaming about our last kiss, wondering if he had the same reaction as I had to it—and being afraid he didn't. I was worried it would never happen again… and worried it might. In short, I've been a basket case. White's kiss doesn't give me time to second-guess, however. His tongue tangles with mine and immediately takes control. My hands go to this t-shirt, which is now wet and clinging to his broad body. As I lose myself in his kiss, my fingers tighten into him, clenching and holding on for dear life.

White has a hand wrapped in my hair, holding me to him. The hold is tight and a little painful, sending tiny sparks of need through my body. His lips are bruising in force as he attacks my mouth like a drowning man fighting for life. I fucking love it. For the first time in my life, I feel feminine, beautiful, and everything a man could want. That's how powerful and mind-altering White's kiss is. I feel beautiful down to my toes. The kiss goes on and on. It only stops when we're forced to break apart to drag oxygen back into our lungs.

"White?" I ask maybe for the hundredth time, the only difference being this time I don't recognize my own voice. It's too shaky, too needy.

"I think it's time I started giving you what you wanted," he says muffled because his lips have started kissing down my neck, not stopping until he sucks my aching breast into his mouth.

"What I want?" I gasp, just as his teeth pull on the tender nipple. My body literally shivers in response as wave upon wave of hunger crashes into me.

"A baby," he answers as his hand massages my other breast.

Heat swamps me at his words. If ovaries can spontaneously combust—mine just did. Here is the man who has starred in every sex dream I've ever had, well except for the ones containing The Rock, because well, I am a woman. But, here is the man of my dreams, my best friend who I have loved since I was fifteen, offering to give me a baby. I panic.

"White, we can't."

"Oh yeah, honey. We definitely can. I'll show you."

"I mean, we should wait," I continue on with my panic, trying to pull away from him slightly, but not with a lot of effort because it feels too damn good.

"What for?"

"We need to make sure both of us are healthy, nothing… you know."

"Nothing?" he repeats, as if he's confused as hell. He probably is. I am, I just can't concentrate on that emotion right now because my body is missing him torturing it.

"Yeah," I sigh defeated, wondering if it would be bad form to pull his head back to my breast. I'm the one here telling him, after all.

"Are you saying you're afraid I have an STD?"

"Well, I mean not really, but it's possible. I just think if I'm going to have a baby we should make sure that we're both completely healthy," I tell him, staring up at the ceiling wishing I had kept my big mouth shut.

"Fine, then we'll use protection."

"Isn't that like wasting the baby batter?"

"Wasting the… baby batter?" he parrots, as if he might worry about my sanity. He needn't worry; I'm worrying enough for both of us.

"I mean, the appointment is just—"

"Fine," he growls, but he drops to his knees.

"What are you doing?" I question and then I gasp and moan at the same time. "Oh, God."

White's face dives between my legs. His tongue pushing in, licking through the warm water of the shower, and then parting the lips of my pussy. At the first brush of his tongue against the tender skin there, my knees buckle. I grasp the walls of the shower, holding on for dear life.

"You don't want my baby batter right now? I can deal, until we get that damn appointment out of the way, Kayla."

"Good. Okay. Oh God, that's so good," I mumble and then moan as he sucks my clit into his mouth, the force pinning it to the roof of his mouth and he runs his tongue along it too. Sweet Jesus, I didn't even know you could do that.

"But you better believe I'm going to prime your baby cannon and get it ready for loading."

Baby cannon? Did he just say that? While eating me out? Baby cannon. Then the strangest thing happens. I envision a picture of me with my legs open and a baby shooting out from me as if I was in fact a baby cannon. The baby is all covered up in a blanket like it was special ordered, and I laugh. I laugh loudly.

This can sound strange to you. It's okay. It does to me. But I've barely had sex in my nearly thirty years. I've never let myself go in all this time. I've always worried about if the person was turned off by my hips being too wide or my legs being covered in cellulite, or my broad ass, or my breasts which were too big and sagged. The list goes on, and that's not even mentioning the stretch marks, or the odd moles I have that seem too large for my liking. Sex has been a chore, a trial, something I did to make the other person happy and then later I could always find my vibrator.

But I’m here, naked in the shower with my best friend—the man I love with everything inside of me, the man I just stopped by telling him he might have an STD, that man—and I'm laughing. I'm laughing and aroused.

How is that possible? Before I can think about it any further, I feel him sliding his fingers inside of me while his tongue continues to lick against my clit. I stop thinking altogether. Thinking is definitely overrated.

CHAPTER 20

WHITE

"You're being quiet again," I whisper. I feel out of my depth here. I can't read what she's thinking. Does she regret what happened in the shower? Does she want me to leave? I've never had to worry about this shit before. This is new territory. No. Kayla is new territory and I'm walking on eggshells.

"I'm sleepy," she whispers into the darkness, and that tells me exactly nothing.

After the shower, I stripped and washed us both off, mostly because Kayla was pretty boneless. A man should take pride in that—and I do. Then I dug around in her dresser for some old sweats and a t-shirt that I have here. We ate and watched a movie. It's been a great night, but it didn't go as I thought it would. Somehow in my mind, us having sex, or even just sharing what we did, was the cure-all. Once that was done, we'd either be on solid ground as just friends, or this fantasy of being with Kayla would be out of my system. Neither of those things happened. I'm still so fucking hard it feels like the top of my dick is about to explode. Worse, it feels like Kayla is pushing away from this arrangement even more. How did it go so wrong? I was supposed to tie her to me and stop her from backing away. Fuck, if the opposite isn't happening. Jesus, I used to be able to handle women so easily. They begged for my attention. Now, I feel like I’m the one on the verge of begging.

"Do you want me to go?" I ask because we're lying in her bed watching a movie. She's lying on my arm, her head curled so that it's right under my head. She's pretending to watch television.

"No," she whispers, then after a minute she adds, "Unless you want to."

"I'm good, honey," I tell her, kissing the top of her head. My fingers are moving back and forth in her soft hair without purpose other than I just want to touch her. I'd be totally relaxed if it wasn't for the elephant in the room. "Kay—"

"White—"

"You first," I tell her.

She's quiet. I want to throw something against the wall. It shouldn't be this difficult. Loving on Kayla, making her come, was the single most beautiful thing I've ever shared with a woman. How did I go from that to being pretty damn positive she wants nothing to do with me? As much as I hate to say it, it may be time for me to call my mom. If anyone understands Kayla more than me, it would be her.

"What we did…" she starts, and deep in my stomach I feel a knot form. Don't say it, Kayla. Don't say it, honey. "That probably shouldn't have happened."

And… she said it.

"Why?"

"Why?" she repeats.

"Yeah, honey. Why? Didn't you enjoy it?" I'd like to see her deny that.

"I don't think ‘enjoy’ is the right word," she stalls.

"I think it's the perfect one. Did you enjoy having me finger that sweet little pussy and eat you out?"

She squirms in my arms, but I don't let her go, choosing instead to hold her tighter.

"Answer me, Kayla."

"I think it's pretty obvious that I did," she grumbles.

"Do you want it again?"

"What? No!"

"I think you're lying. I think you do. I think you want it just as bad as I want to give it to you," I respond, kind of glad I'm not looking her in the face, just in case I'm wrong. I don't want to see the rejection there.

"It's not about if I enjoyed it. It's just, well..."

"Tell me. If you don't tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours, there's no way I can guess it."

"White, this whole thing… sex, making a child… it's going to cause things to go weird between us."

"No, it won't."

"It will! It already is! We're barely speaking," she says, pulling away to sit up on the bed. This time I let her so I can do the same, leaning back against the headboard.

"The only person barely speaking here, Buttercup, is you."

"I don't know what to say!" she cries, her voice laced with panic.

"Why do you have to say anything? Why does this have to change the way we always are with each other?"

"Because it's sex! You had your face… there!"

"I did, and I plan on having it there again."

"White—"

"I do. So you might want to get used to saying the word ‘pussy’, Kayla."

"I hate that word."

"I happen to like it. What would you prefer I call it? And if you say ‘lady garden’, so help me…"

"Why do we have to call it anything? And why are we talking about this? I just told you I think it was a mistake."

"I'm hearing what you're trying to say. I just don't understand why."

"We're best friends! Friends can't be lovers!"

"I think we proved that wrong in the shower. In fact, I think we are fucking amazing together."

"You can't say that. You didn't even get to… you didn't get to release."

"Release? Jesus. Say it, Kayla. I didn't get to come."

"White—"

"Say. It."

She lets out a large overdrawn breath and shoots daggers at me with her pretty brown eyes. "Fine. You didn't get to come."

"I sure as hell didn't. But I'm going to make up for that after that damn doctor's appointment."

"White—"

"And I’ll tell you something else, Kayla…"

"What?"

"You and I in that shower, me having you in my arms and tasting your sweet cream on my tongue?"

"White," she whispers, but I can see need flash in her eyes, so I know I'm getting to her.

"What we did together in that shower Kayla was the best I've ever had with a woman."

"I doubt that. You didn't get to—"

"Come. Yeah, I know. But I got to make you come. I got to give you pleasure. I made you lose control, didn't I, Buttercup?"

"You know you did," she whispers, looking down at the sheets.

"Look at me, Kayla." She slowly brings her face back to me. "Has it ever been any better for you?" I ask. I need her to admit it hasn't. Somewhere inside I'm worried she'll say it wasn't. That's a fucking fear I've never had in my life before. This woman is wrapping me in so many knots, I'm wondering if I'll ever straighten them out.

"No," she says, and she manages to keep her eyes on mine. A fine blush heats her skin. She's wearing another one of my t-shirts, one that has my team logo on it. I didn't even know she had it here. It went missing and I just never cared enough to wonder where it was. I don't want it back. I want her wearing it to bed when I'm not here. I want her wearing nothing but me when I am. I want Kayla in so many different fucking ways, I should be scared. But… I'm not.

"Then we're going to keep doing what we're doing. And Kayla, just so we're clear, we're going to be doing it often."

"You don't want a child, White. Maybe I should call Bl—"

"So help me God, if you mention my brother’s name, you will be forcing me to kill him."

"White!"

"Now that I've had a taste of you Kayla, you can cross my brother—hell, any of my fucking brothers—off your list. In fact, you can cross off any other fucking man’s name, except mine."

"You're being bossy. Not to mention, being an ass."

"I don't care. I just want to make sure we're clear here."

"Should I remind you that you slept with my sister?"

"Not like you're thinking, and you can damn well bet it will never happen again."

"I'd like to go to sleep now," she says, her face pale, and I know I'm not dealing with this well, but I can't stop my mouth. I take a breath and try to get myself under control.

"Then go to sleep," I tell her, not moving.

"Don't you think you should… you know, go to your apartment?"

"No. I think I should stay here and hold you tonight."

"You don't spend the night with women, remember? You always said it gives them the wrong idea."

"That doesn't apply in this case."

"Oh," she whispers, and I'm silently begging her to ask me why, but she doesn't. She settles back down in the bed, being very careful not to touch me. That's not going to work. I wait until she gets settled. Then I turn to my side and pull her back into me.

"White?"

"Shh… Go to sleep, honey. It's all going to work out," I assure her, pushing up against her ass so she feels the hard edge of my cock. I'm not going to get a bit of sleep tonight. But it's a fucking good kind of torture. Let's just hope I can stay sane until after this damn doctor’s appointment.

CHAPTER 21

KAYLA

There’s a moment in your life when you are faced with decisions and there are two very clear paths to take. It’s just that the reasons to take each path aren’t quite as clear. The reasons are muddied with outside factors that leave you unsure of which direction to take. That’s where I’m at: facing two different paths and afraid to move.

White is offering me something I have wanted my whole life. To get it, I have to ignore certain things, like he doesn’t love me, or that he doesn’t share the same overall goals and views of life as I do. I could choose to just forge ahead, take what he’s offering me, and enjoy the ride. So much of me wants to do that.

But what kind of person does that make me? How selfish am I if I allow the man I love, the man who has always been my anchor in life, to give me what I want when he doesn’t want the same? If I was strong enough, I would end this. White keeps fighting me when I get the courage to push him away though. Admittedly, I’m not trying really hard. When you have wanted something for so long, it’s hard to let it go. Especially when reality is about a gazillion times better than the fantasy.

So don’t judge me too harshly when this morning, waking up in my bed with White’s arms around me, I make a decision I’ll probably regret. A decision I know is the wrong one, but I just don’t care.

I grab my cell phone and sneak into the bathroom. I close the door and wince because the clicking noise of the lock connecting seems unusually loud. I take a breath, battling my nerves, then dial the phone.

“Women’s Center for Health and Care. Good morning. How can I help you today?”

“Appointments please,” I half-say and half-whisper into the phone.

“Scheduling desk, this is Julie,” I hear the familiar voice over the phone.

“Julie, this is Kayla Graham. I need to try and get in to see Dr. Mason this week.”

“Kayla! Good to hear your voice. Is there something going on? We have an appointment that just canceled if it’s urgent.”

“Nah, it’s not urgent. I just haven’t had an appointment in a bit and I’m on my last container of birth control pills.”

“Got it. Well do you want to come in today? If not, I have openings for Wednesday of next week.”

“Next week is fine. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. I have a 3:00 and a 4:30 in the afternoon, since I know you like them as late as you can make it.”

“The 4:30 would be great. Thank you.”

“Okay, sweetie. 4:30 p.m. on Wednesday. See you then.”

“Thanks,” I whisper just as White begins banging on the door.

“You in there, Buttercup?”

My nerves are shot. It feels like I’m cheating. No. Just lying. I ignore the small voice of my conscience and lay my phone on the small cabinet I keep my towels in. I wipe my hands on White’s t-shirt I’m wearing and open the door. He looks good enough to eat, standing there with his pants hanging low on his hips and no shirt. Somehow, even his bare feet look sexy. He’s broad, lean, and that six pack should be in a museum for everyone to admire.

“I was just going to get in the shower,” I tell him with a false smile.

“Maybe you need some help with that.” White grins.

This is the moment. The moment I push ahead and ride the ride for as long as it lasts, or I finally run away. Except there’s really no choice; I’d already made it by calling my doctor.

“I’ve been thinking…” I tell him, and I see the tension on his face gather around his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think you really need to have your swimmers checked. There’s no reason to think anything is wrong there.”

“Okay,” White says, confused, trailing off like he’s not sure what to say. I’m very familiar with that feeling.

“I mean, obviously I do think we should get tested and get a free bill of health if we’re going to have sex without… well…”

“Condoms?”

“Yeah.” I shrug. I think I see disappointment in his eyes and I feel the biggest need to erase it.

“I’m fine with that. We could probably do that today at the local clinic,” he says, but he doesn’t look happy. Why should he? Before I put him off to test his swimmers, and now I’m practically accusing him of being diseased. Probably none of the women in his life have asked him to get tested. I’m a freak.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him lamely, because I suddenly feel like this huge oddball. If he pressed it, I would have to confess everything. He has to know my excuses are lame. He gave me oral sex. If there were diseases involved…

I’m on the verge of confessing to him that I have decided to go back on the pill and we can have sex, that the testing was just nervous delay tactics, when White smiles. His hand wraps around the side of my neck, his thumb putting pressure on my chin—just enough to make my head tilt back. It strokes along the ridge of my jawbone as those deep blue eyes bore into mine.

“Don’t be sorry, honey. You’re being smart. I don’t want you to feel embarrassed about talking to me about anything. I’ve always loved everything about you. We’ve never had things hidden from one another. We have a trust I’ve never shared with anyone else. It’s why we’re best friends. That doesn’t change now,” he tells me, and his words meant to calm me, but instead they terrify me. What if he finds out what I’m keeping from him?

“How about I get my shower out of the way and then fix us some breakfast before I head to work?” I suggest, needing to get my nerves under control.

“What if I help you shower?” he suggests instead, causing my knees to go weak and the panic to hit me full force.

“Well…” I look back at the shower, then to him.

“We’ll just wash each other. Nothing else,” he says with a sparkle in his eye that should scare me.

“I’ll be late for work…”

“Do you have to go in? I was thinking we could spend the day together. Maybe drive down to the Riverwalk,” he suggests, like a spider luring me into his web. He knows how much I love the Riverwalk this time of year. The air is cool, the scenery is at its best, and there are all kinds of vendors set up along the way.

“I think I feel a cold coming on,” I tell him, thinking about the leave time I have accumulated at work. Surely a day off to spend with the man that I love is allowed. I rarely miss. I haven’t taken a day off this entire year. I see the surprise register in White’s face, right before he smiles.

“Is that a fact?” he grins, and just to make him smile bigger, I fake a cough.

“Yeah. I’ll probably have to call in.”

“That’s a shame. A damn shame,” he laughs.

“Yeah, I hope it’s nothing serious,” I tell him, pulling his shirt I wore to sleep in over my head. I’m doing my best to beat down my embarrassment, but I can feel myself blush. I turn around, giving him my back. It’s easier somehow since I’m standing in nothing but white boy-cut panties. Why couldn’t I have worn sexy underwear? “I still have a couple of things on my bucket list I’ve never tried.”

“What would that be?” he asks and I’m afraid to look, but I think I hear desire in his voice, the deep timbre of it resonating inside of me, making me tremble. I slide my panties down my legs, doing my best to slip out of them. I pray to God I look sexy and not like the dork I feel. I step in the shower, thinking oddly that if I go through with this, we’ll once again be in the shower. Will White think I’m some kind of freak who only wants sex in the water?

“Kayla?” White asks, and I realize I’ve gotten lost in my thoughts again.

“I was hoping to give you pleasure in the shower,” I tell him, suddenly self-conscious and afraid to say the wrong thing.

“Give me pleasure?” he asks, and maybe I’m wrong, but I hear him smiling.

“Yeah,” I tell him. “To reciprocate. You know, for last night.”

“Reciprocate? Kayla, what I gave you was because I wanted to. Not because I expect you to feel obligated.”

“I don’t!” I rush to reassure him, once again feeling like an oddball. Maybe this is why I’m single at almost thirty and in love with my best friend. I’m just a freak. “I don’t feel obligated, White. I want to. I really want to,” I tell him, unsure how to finish, but I gather up enough courage to finally look at him. He’s standing there naked. His large cock seems to pulsate, though I suppose that could be my imagination.

“Kayla?” White asks, and I pull my eyes away from his dick to look at him.

“I think I know what those romance authors are talking about in their books when they write about throbbing members,” I whisper—like an idiot.

White laughs. It’s a full-bodied laugh. A good one that would make me happy if he wasn’t laughing at me.

“See something you like, honey?” he says, and he’s walking towards the shower. And honest to God, I had forgotten the shower was even on.

“How big is that thing?” Again, I just say what’s in my brain because apparently I have no control over my mouth. This, of course, makes White laugh again, and my heart stops as I watch his hand reach down to wrap around his dick. Slowly he strokes it, just once, but enough to make me want to moan. The head looks impossibly broad, and through the thin spray of water that is splashing around us, I see a large drop of pre-cum come out and paint the head of his dick, making it appear glossy.

“I’ve never measured it, honey,” he admits as I pull my eyes away from his cock to watch little droplets of water splash onto his body. One lands on his chest and slowly runs down those washboard abs. I can’t tear my eyes away, which of course makes me look at his cock again, jutting out towards me, and it’s not my imagination this time. It is literally pulsating. I can see little jerks along the hard rigid veins that are pressed against the skin. They seem to be moving in time with my heartbeat.

“That will never fit in my mouth,” I whisper, backing against the shower wall as he follows.

“Are you saying you want to suck my cock, Buttercup?” he asks, moving his hand over his cock again. It’s then I realize that yep, I’ve once again said something out loud I didn’t mean for him to hear. I swallow and give him the one word that I can manage to get out because my breath is stalled in my chest. The one word that I have a feeling I’ll be telling White often.

“Yes.”

CHAPTER 22

WHITE

I don't know what changed between last night and this morning. I just know that I'm glad it did.

I move into the shower, shutting the door behind me. Kayla doesn't make a move. She's still staring at my dick, and while that's great, there's only so much looking a man can handle.

"Do you have a thing for showers, Buttercup?" I ask, reaching for the soap.

"What? No," she says, finally looking at me. Her cheeks bloom with deep red color that has nothing to do with the heat of the water. I turn and move until my back is against the spray, forcing us to do a small dance so that Kayla moves in front of me. I'm not sure what's after this life. If there is a Heaven, I'm pretty sure hot water and a naked Kayla are involved. "It's just, well, morning showers wake me up."

"I can understand that. I'm definitely up now," I tell her, looking down at my dick.

"You're so corny," she says, but she smiles, and it helps erase that deer-caught-in-the-headlights look she had before.

"Enough talk, woman. Wash me before I turn old and wrinkled up and destroy the manly image you have of me," I jokingly order her, handing her the soap.

"Bossy much?" she sighs, but she starts lathering up her hands. Setting the soap on the shelf, she puts her hands on my neck and moves the lather slowly down my chest. Fuck. Having Kayla's hands on me is so much better than anything I've experienced before.

"Don't stop doing this. I'll beg," I tell her, and I'm only half joking.

"This is the real reason men are dogs. Scratch their belly and they're happy as larks."

"I've never actually seen or at least never noticed a lark, so I can't answer. If you keep it up though, I can't guarantee I won't start humping your leg."

"God, I thought I was, but you’re the freak. Is this sweet-talking the way you bag all your women?"

"None of them mattered. The way I feel with you is special. You need to understand that."

"White," she whispers, her hands going still. I cover them with my own.

"It's special, Kayla. I like that it's different with you. I like that I can be myself and be comfortable. That doesn't happen. Well, I can't speak for you, but it never has for me."

"It's new for me too, White, and when I can get past my nerves, I'm happy."

"There's no need for you to be nervous, honey. You know me. I'd cut off my arm before I'd hurt you, Kayla. No matter what goes on with us, that will always remain the same."

"Well, I mean, you've been my best friend forever, but there's just things you don't know," she says, avoiding looking me in the eyes.

"Like what?" I ask, bringing her face back to mine and kissing her forehead. She brings out this protectiveness in me that I've never felt before.

"I'm not very good at sex, White."

"Kayla—"

"I'm serious. I mean, there hasn't been that many men, so maybe it's something you get better with, like with practice or something. But the point is, I'm pretty sure I suck at it."

I would laugh because the whole thought of this woman being poor at sex is laughable. Everything about her body screams sex, but that's beside the point. She's missing something very vital here, something that should have been explained to her before she ever had sex. Mom was never great at that, so maybe that's why. I suddenly want to wring the neck of the man who got to her first and didn't show her how truly amazing she is. Fuck, I'm even pissed at myself that I let someone else be that person. It doesn't matter because with each passing minute spent with Kayla, I know. It was only cemented in my brain last night with the taste of her on my tongue. She's it. She's that mythical creature out there I had heard about, but never experienced. Soulmate. She’s mine. I may have not been her first, but I damn sure will be her last. I'm not about to be stupid enough to let her get away now.

"Honey, did you forget last night? You're amazing."

"Well, yeah, but that was all you. I mean, I didn't really have to do anything other than let the shower wall hold me up and scare my neighbors, which I'm pretty sure I did last time," she mutters, her face heating even more and her bottom lip going between her teeth. Fuck. She's adorable.

It hurts me though that she's so self-conscious. I’m going to have blue balls from the North Pole here, but I need to treat Kayla carefully. She deserves someone who takes their time with her and then some. I make a split-second decision, grabbing the soap and positioning us so that her back is to me.

"What are you doing?" Kayla asks, looking around like I'm crazy.

"I’m going to wash your back and neck," I tell her.

"But I thought we were gonna… I mean, I had planned on giving you…"

"I know what you were planning, and I want it. But I want more too. I know myself well enough to know I won’t stop with just you giving me head. Which would be great, except you don’t have condoms, and neither do I. You want us tested before we have sex. Now I could go back to my place and get some, but the truth is that I don’t want them between us.”

“White…”

“We have to get our tests done,” I finish her sentence. “I understand and I agree. So that means no sex of any kind this morning. I only have so much willpower and you’re tempting me beyond reason,” I tell her, letting my hands move over the delicate lines of her back and along her hips, loving the way they flare out. My attention is zeroed in on her ass, the curve, the angle, the smooth and creamy skin. She has no idea the plans I have for that ass. There’s no way I could tell her; they’d scare her to death. I’m starting to realize that Kayla is almost like a virgin.

“What?”

“You can’t suck my cock until I know that I can enjoy your body and prove to you just how good at sex you are—well, we are together. So until we get all that done, we bathe each other and that’s it.”

"Oh. Wow. Okay. But, well…"

"Each minute you argue means you are delaying the moment I finally get to sink inside of you.”

“I guess I’ll hush, then…”

“Good plan,” I tell her, snaking my hands around her and using my lathered hands to cover her breasts and pull her back into me. I can’t resist pinching the nipples and teasing her. My eyes close as her body quakes against me.

“Oh,” she whispers.

“Want me to make you come?” I ask in her ear. I may have to force myself to wait, but I could pleasure her again—and again.

“If you can wait, I can too,” she says, her voice unsteady as she pulls away.

“Maybe we can get into the clinic early,” I nearly groan, wondering if I’ve lost my mind.

“Maybe it would be best if we just wash… ourselves?” Kayla suggests.

She’s probably right. I let her have her way—grudgingly.

We finish the shower in silence. All the while, I’m praying we can get things settled at the clinic quickly.

CHAPTER 23

KAYLA

“Kayla! Is that you??”

I hear the loud screeching voice and for a second I hide my face into White’s chest.

“Who’s that?” he whispers, his voice vibrating through me like it always does.

“That is my worst nightmare.”

“Huh?”

“Kayla! I knew that was you! Where have you been?”

“Hey, Gladys,” I answer, turning around to face her. Against my will.

Gladys works part-time at my school as a teacher’s aide. She probably would have gotten on full-time by now, except every teacher who has ever had her in class, myself included, begs the principal to never bring her back. She’s a nice enough person. However, her annoying qualities are so numerous, you could grow old listing them. She’s loud, and this comes from me, a person who deals with small children all day long. They’re loud enough to wake the dead at times. Gladys is over-the-top loud. My classroom is at the end of a hallway and I swear I can hear Gladys in there with my door closed. That’s even if she’s on the other side of the school, or maybe out in the parking lot with every car there running. She’s that loud.

Also, she has no filter. Zero. She makes Ida Sue’s off-the-wall comments seem tame at times. You can’t tell her that you don’t like someone. Why? Because she will march up to them and ask what they’ve done to make you dislike them. One of my coworkers made the mistake of telling her that one of the physical education teachers, Brian, had body odor. Gladys went and bought a mop bucket, filled it with soap, deodorant, shampoo, loofas, and washcloths, then gave it to him the next day and told him that all the teachers were avoiding him because he stunk. He quit his job that evening. She didn’t see why everyone was upset about it. In her mind, she had done him a favor. All that aside, Gladys is also the biggest gossip in the western hemisphere.

That’s why seeing Gladys here is one of the things that nightmares are made of. And it’s a particularly bad nightmare because White and I are outside the family planning clinic, and by the time this conversation is done, and White and I walk back to the Riverwalk where makeshift booths are set up to celebrate fall, then stop and order a pumpkin spiced latte. Gladys will have called at least ten of the people I work with to tell them she saw me skipping work today when I was supposed to be sick, to tell them exactly where she saw me, to tell them who she saw me with, and perhaps worst of all, to tell them all that I’m knocked up. It won’t matter than I’m not, or even if I make it clear to her that I am in no way, shape, fashion or form standing before her with a bun in the oven. She won’t care.

Shit.

“I thought you were home sick today? I had to help the sub take care of your kids.”

“I had a sinus infection, nothing major,” I tell her, my smile strained. I step away from White, hoping against hope that she won’t think that the two of us are a couple, when he pulls me back into him, his hand going possessively around my stomach. All hope of that is now thrown out the window.

“Well, that’s good,” she says, but she’s already dismissed me from her mind. Now her eyes are looking White over—slowly, appraisingly. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“I doubt it. I don’t think we’ve ever met,” White notes easily. He’s not being overly friendly, either. Perhaps he’s picking up on the tension coursing through my body.

“No. You look familiar. I’m sure we’ve met somewhere before. Maybe you’ve come to work and picked Kayla up there,” she says. I want to moan.

“I don’t think so,” White responds, sounding bored. His hand is brushing against my stomach, almost as if he’s trying to comfort me. Yeah, I think it’s pretty safe to say he feels the tension in me. I watch as Gladys’s eyes move to White’s hand rubbing my stomach possessively, a stomach that is standing outside of the family planning clinic.

I start to try and do damage control until I realize that I might have bigger issues.

“No. I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere. Not with Kayla, though. I mean, I’ve met her fiancé Tommy, and you two look nothing alike. How is Tommy, Kayla?” she asks, her eyes sparkling with glee.

God must be punishing me for taking birth control pills and keeping it from White. That’s all I can figure.

“I’m sure he’s fine, Gladys. I haven’t spoken to him in a few days,” I tell her, and I have to force myself not to wince as White’s hands bite into my stomach.

“You haven’t spoken to Tommy…” Gladys says, trailing off as she visibly seems to file away that juicy tidbit for later.

“She hasn’t, and won’t. Tommy and Kayla aren’t together anymore, Gladys,” White growls, and it is a growl—one that makes me quiver in all the appropriate female areas.

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Gladys says, and if she could sound any more pleased with herself, her hand would be tired from patting herself on the back. “What’s your relationship with Kayla, exactly?” she asks.

Yeah, this is probably bad.

“Gladys, it’s been nice seeing you, but I think I need to go home and rest. I have work tomorrow,” I say, but I needn’t have bothered. White and Gladys are both ignoring me.

“Kayla is mine,” White says.

That’s it. He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t explain or deny any of the juicy conclusions that Gladys is quickly inventorying in her mind.

“Yours?” she asks.

“Mine.”

“I’m his best friend,” I tell Gladys lamely, wishing the floor could swallow me up.

“Best friend?” Gladys asks.

“Among other even better things,” White says cryptically, keeping one hand on my waist and letting another rest on my shoulder, his fingers tangling in my hair as he kisses the top of my head.

If I didn’t want to kill him right now, I’d be a melted puddle at his feet, but with each passing moment, Gladys is making her own conclusions and the result of that could be epically bad for my work life.

“You’re that football star! The one who hurt his arm a while back!” she says, and I’m hoping I get lucky and she didn’t hear White’s reply.

“That’s me.” This time, White sighs when he answers.

My heart hurts for him. We haven’t talked about it, but I know he’s worried about ever playing again.

“I had no idea that our Kayla had such big connections. She does like to keep secrets,” Gladys says as if I’m not even here. “How amazing it must be to be claimed by someone so virile and exciting!”

Now I suddenly want to throat-punch her.

“He means that he’s my brother,” I say stupidly. I swear, since the moment White kissed me, I’m pretty sure my brain is not firing on all cylinders.

“Your brother!” Gladys cries, and before I can explain further, White interrupts me.

“Sorry, Gladys, this has been nice, but I need to get Kayla home and in bed,” he growls, and from the tone of his voice, I think he might be a little pissed at me.

“Oh, goodness.”

Hell, if I’m not right there with her. The image of White getting me in bed flashes in my brain and burns out any other thoughts or brain cells that I might use to get me out of this mess I seem to find myself in.

I’ve waved a goodbye and walked a good hundred feet back towards the food booths before my mouth becomes unfrozen and my tongue works enough to say anything.

“You realize what she’s thinking, right?”

“I’m not the one who told her we’re brother and sister.”

“Well, she was thinking that we were—”

“Sleeping together? Hate to break it to you, Buttercup, but she’d be right. Everyone will be thinking that soon and surprise—they’ll be right, too. Wasn’t that what getting the tests was all about?”

“Well yeah, but I mean, I work with her. She’s a loud mouth—a nosy loud mouth.”

“You don’t think the people you work with will realize you’re sleeping with me? Especially when you start showing?”

“Showing?”

“Women who get pregnant usually start to show that fact, Kayla.”

“Well yeah, but we don’t need to worry about that right now,” I tell him, and guilt tangles with a feeling that almost feels like disappointment curling in my gut. My hand goes there in reaction. “So, there’s no reason to think about it. Besides, I’d rather not be the topic of conversation at the school’s watercooler.”

“Why not? Are you ashamed of me?”

“What? Of course not! It’s just that they all still think I’m with Tommy, and—”

“Yeah, and I made sure that’s stopped. I don’t want other people thinking you belong to anyone but me.”

“White,” I whisper, butterflies in my stomach.

“And I prefer that none of them are thinking I’m fucking my sister, so if you could stop saying I’m your damn brother every time I turn around, I’d appreciate it.”

“I didn’t say that,” I deny, but we both know I just did.

“You did just now, and you inferred it with Tommy’s mother. I don’t like it.”

“Okay, White.”

“I think you understand this, but let me make it clear, Kayla: The things I want from you, the things I’m going to demand of you, have nothing to do with me thinking of you as my sister.”

“You’re right. I panicked. I wasn’t thinking.”

“The things we are going to have together, those things have everything to do with me thinking of you as a woman. My woman.”

“I won’t do it again,” I tell him. Right now I don’t give a damn what Gladys tells anyone where I work. White just called me his woman.

His.

CHAPTER 24

WHITE

"How in the bloody hell did I not know I was going to be a grandmother, White Hall?"

I wince as I hold the phone from my ear and check the time. It's six in the morning and my eyes aren't focusing. Shit, I don't even remember picking up the phone.

"I don't know, Mom. You have five grandkids counting the twins that CC and Gray are about to have. Maybe we should take you to the doctor."

"Don't get smart with me, White. You explain why I have to read about it in the checkout line at the Quickie Mart."

I pull myself up in bed with a wince when I move my bum arm the wrong way. The fucker is not healing back right. I don't care what they're saying. Every day the fear that I might not be able to play again digs a little deeper into my subconscious. I try to rub the sleep out of my eyes so I can deal with my mom. I have a feeling today is going to be one of those days.

"Mom?" I try and get her attention because she keeps mumbling in the background.

"It's bloody embarrassing, White Hall."

"Bloody? Did you move to England when I wasn't looking?"

"I heard it in a movie. It sounded cool and chic. Though, I think I may have to start using an accent for it to truly work. Anyway, quit trying to distract me! I want to know why the fuck I'm just hearing about my grandchild!"

"I have no Earthly idea what you're talking about. I don't think my brain can follow you this early."

"Fine. Put Kayla on the phone."

"Mom, the sun's barely shining outside. Kayla's not here."

"Why the hell not?" she asks, and I sigh.

"She had to go out of town for a teaching retreat her school organized. She'll be back tonight."

She's been gone for two nights and I'm not happy. We got our all-clear tests done, but I was pissed off because she told her nutty coworker I was her brother, so when we got back, I left. It was stupid and I was pouting. Son of a bitch if it isn't a blow to a man's ego when the woman he is fantasizing about keeps telling people he's like a brother to her. I mean, damn. Then the next day, she springs this "retreat" on me. So that's three days without Kayla. At first, I thought that might be good. It would give me time to clear my head, gain some perspective. Maybe I'm just having these thoughts and feelings about her because of the situation. Yeah, that's definitely not it. Three days and I'm slowly dying. She’s become my drug and withdrawals are definitely not pretty. I'm even missing sleeping with her and that shouldn't be possible. I only slept with her one night since all this started, but the feeling is there all the same.

"Are you listening to me, White Hall?"

That'd be a no…

"I'm sorry, Mom. The cat was wanting out," I mumble.

"You don't have a cat."

"What were you saying?" Sometimes it's not healthy to have a parent who knows your entire life.

"I was saying that I can't believe that you put a bun in my sweet Kayla's oven and didn't even tell me!"

Finally, she has my attention.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Mom?" I growl.

"White Hall! You do not talk to me like that! Would you kiss your mother with that mouth? Don't answer that. You barely come see me, let alone kiss me. I swear I don't know where I went wrong with you boys. If it wasn't for Cyan, I'd feel like a total failure."

"Oh, please." I all but roll my eyes at her claim. Of all of us, Cyan is probably the wildest. Somehow, however, he has managed to completely snow mom into thinking he's practically a virgin saint. If she ever found out the truth, it would probably kill her.

"I'm serious. You could learn something by trying to be more like your brother."

"Sure. What are you talking about with Kayla?"

"I'm talking about the fact that I had to read in a magazine in the checkout lane that my sweet Kayla was pregnant! I can't believe you, White Hall. You should have at least told the family what was going on."

"Mom, I have no idea what you're talking about here, and Kayla is definitely not pregnant."

"She's not?"

"She's definitely not. It's not even possible," I tell her.

"Well, shit. Maybe I should tell you to be more like Gray. He seems fertile enough since he met CC."

"Mom, would you please explain where you heard about me and Kayla?"

"I did, dear. Though you were probably playing with your make-believe pussy and didn't listen."

"Mom—"

"It's in all the gossip rags and on that horrible television show that says it’s all about entertaining news, but in reality is just a place for junk reality television that rots brain cells."

"You're fucking kidding me?"

"No. I'm pretty sure if we have a zombie apocalypse, the origins will be traced back to that TV channel. You can't keep brain cells alive and active watching—"

"Not about the TV, Mom," I growl, reaching for my remote. It takes me a few minutes to find the channel she's talking about. Some mindless reality TV show is on that I've never taken the time to watch and upon threat of death, probably never will. I keep scrolling through the channels. Sadly, I find what I need on the sports channel.

"Did you find it?" I hear Mom say in my ear, but I don't pay attention to her. I've forgotten all about my phone because there on the sports news is a picture of me and Kayla.

We're standing outside of the family clinic building. The picture is grainy and obviously been snapped with a cellphone—probably dear old Gladys's. It's after Gladys left. I remember. It was right after I told Kayla that she was mine. With this picture though, I see something I didn't before. Or fuck, maybe I'm just seeing it now because I'm lonely, horny, and want it to be there. I see pleasure. Does she like being called mine?

"Mom, I'll have to call you back," I say into the phone, my eyes glued to the screen. She's arguing in the background, but I ignore it and hang up. I know I'm going to have hell to pay for that, but I can't help it. I have the strongest fucking urge to jack off doing nothing but looking at Kayla's face on my television and seeing the pleasure in her eyes when she's looking at me. Before I can pause my TV, however, I make the mistake of turning up the volume.

"White Lucas has been off the field for a couple months. Speculation is that the star quarterback might never return due to an injury he received last season. White was benched the first part of the season because his throwing arm seemed weak and off the mark. He was permanently sidelined a month later by the general manager and has been consulting with team doctors. The injury however, doesn't seem to be keeping White from other endeavors. This photo was released late last night by celebrity gossip magazine the Snitch. The photo shows Lucas standing with a woman in front of a local family planning clinic in Dallas. The source for the Snitch tells us that White is definitely playing this one close to the vest, however. In fact, very close. Apparently the woman in the picture is, in actuality, White's stepsister, and they've been dating for a year. That's keeping it in the family a little too much for us, but who are we to judge? Could there be a baby on the way for the pro-baller? Let's hope the little bundle of joy doesn't take after his father when it comes to weak arms. The general manager for the team had no comment at this time. In other news—"

I turn the TV off, then throw my remote across the room. I watch it slam against the wall and smash into a hundred pieces.

It does nothing to make me feel better.

CHAPTER 25

KAYLA

"I'm sorry, Ms. Graham. We hate to do this, but I'm sure you can understand our position."

"No. I'm afraid I don't, Principal Blake."

"We're a small private school, Ms. Graham. Our parents pay for their child's education with the understanding that in doing so, they are guaranteeing their child will receive the utmost learning potential and care."

"Has my ability to teach these children been inadequate? The last time I checked my performance review, my parents were all happy."

"There's an issue of morality, Ms. Graham."

"Excuse me?"

"You signed a morality contract. The type of press you have been receiving is not in line with that."

"Press? I'm sorry, Mr. Blake, I have no idea what you're talking about. It was my understanding that this weekend was about a teaching retreat to reward for our performance—not about me losing my job."

"That was before."

"Before what?" I exclaim, getting fed up with the runaround he's giving me. I thought coming on this retreat would give me a few days to clear my head. Getting our results back from the clinic meant the way was all clear for me and White. Now if only I could just move past my guilt of lying to him, or at least stop feeling like I’ve pushed him into making a decision he wouldn’t normally.

Principal Blake takes out a magazine from a pile on his desk and hands it to me. It's the kind you see in the checkout aisle at your local grocery store or gas station. I always glance at the pictures, but never really pay them any attention. Their headlines always make me giggle—especially after watching that Men In Black movie where they were referenced as giving real information about aliens.

This one isn't making me giggle, though. Not at all. This one is actually making me sick to my stomach. Just reading the headline, I want to hurl.

"Pro Football Quarterback White Lucas having a love child with his sister."

Oh, no.

"Surely you can see that your position at Rosemont can no longer continue."

"This isn't true!" I literally yell, my hand shaking. My eyes are blurry so I know I have tears starting to fall and that just pisses me off more.

"You're not pregnant?"

"No! White and I haven't even had sex yet!" I actually did scream that. Considering everyone at the retreat is probably right outside the door, it might not have been a good move—along with tagging on the word “yet”. Christ eating bananas, when will I learn to shut up?

"Really, Ms. Graham. Your sexual life is your own, of course, but I have to consider the children."

"Why? I'm not having sex in front of them! What I do outside of the classroom should have no bearing on anything. Besides, White is not my brother!"

"He's not?"

"Of course he's not. I mean, his mother kind of adopted me, so I guess technically he is, but he's not! I mean there's nothing blood-related."

"So he is on record as being your sibling?"

"What? No! At least I don't think so. Why would he be? This is ridiculous!"

"Be that as it may, my hands are tied here. You can, of course, appeal to the board of directors."

"You can bet your ass I will!"

"But since your contract clearly stipulates against things like this—"

"This isn't the end of this," I growl, getting up from my chair.

"Ms. Graham—"

"You and the school board will be hearing from my lawyer!" I announce and stalk out of there.

I don't look at anyone as I leave. There's no point because I can feel their eyes on me. I'm in my car and heading towards the house. I should call White, but I'm afraid to. This is all my fault. I'll put it off as long as I can.

CHAPTER 26

WHITE

"Kayla! I know you're in there. Open this door!" I yell into her apartment door as I bang on it with my fist. She got back yesterday. I thought she would seek me out, and when she didn't, I assumed she would at least come over last night or call me. I waited and waited… like a chump.

I swore to myself I wasn't about to crawl back to her. It's her turn to chase me. That lasted the rest of the night and most of the morning. It's now noon and I know for a fact that Kayla didn't go to work. I know because I've been watching through my window for her to leave—again, like a chump.

Now I'm done waiting.

"Open this fucking—" I break off as Kayla opens the door. She doesn't look like I expected though. She's wearing sweats and a large t-shirt that hangs to her knees. The sweats are so baggy, you could fit three of her in them. Her hair has probably not been brushed and it's pulled up on her head but is hanging in every direction—including her eyes. She's holding a half gallon container of her favorite orange sherbet ice cream.

"Stop screaming. We do have other neighbors, you know," she mumbles with a spoon in her mouth. She walks off, leaving the door open. I follow her in, just in time to see her all but fall on the couch. She doesn't even look up, even when I sit down across from her.

"Do you want to explain to me why you haven't bothered telling me you were back?"

"I didn't realize I needed to check in with you. In fact, I'm pretty sure I don't."

"I'm not in the mood for your shit, Kayla."

"Look! Something we can agree on. I'm not in the mood for yours, either," she sighs, sliding down on the couch and bunching her hair against the armrest. At least that explains why her hair is a mess.

"What's going on with you?"

"I've been knocked up by my brother, haven't you heard?"

"Is that why you didn't go into work today?"

"Kind of."

"Kind of?"

"I am no longer employed by Rosemont Center for Education," she says, waving her spoon in the air as she pronounces the name of the school in time with each wave.

"You're not? You quit? But, you loved that job."

"I did," she says, licking the back of her spoon and still refusing to look at me.

"Kayla?"

"Turns out I'm not Rosemont material."

"What are you talking about?" Frustration is in my voice, and I probably should have kept that in check. Especially when she turns to look at me and I see anger warring with sadness in her dark eyes.

"They don't want a woman teaching their children who sleeps with her stepbrother."

"I'm not your damn brother! Or fuck, even stepbrother."

"But, you are."

"No. I'm not. You were never legally my sister."

"No, but your mom did go to court. Some papers were signed, even if they weren’t full adoption papers. Everyone treated me like your sister.”

“I’ve never treated you like my sister!”

“No. Not you. Though to be fair, until recently, you didn't even realize I had boobs, so it’s kind of the same thing."

"The fuck it is!"

"Whatever, I don't want to talk about this anymore. I find I’m all talked out."

"Well, too fucking bad! If you think I'm going to let them get away with this shit, you're crazy. We'll fight it. Hell, we'll sue them!"

"I signed a morality clause," she says with a sigh, sitting up and putting the container of ice cream on the coffee table.

"Big fucking deal. You haven't done anything wrong."

"Just let it go, White. I've already got another job."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I accepted it today."

"That's great then, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then what's wrong?"

"I just never thought about all the fallout of you and I doing this. I just don't think it's worth it. I think it would be better if we just walked away and—"

"Do not even finish that sentence, Kayla."

"Why not? I'm just stating the truth. What's the point of all this, White? I mean, seriously. We haven't even had sex and it's already a catastrophe."

"This is just crazy. It will blow over and won’t even matter. Those fucking prudes at Rosemont will regret their decision, honey. You're a fantastic teacher. How many women do you know can find a job in less than a day? You’ve got this."

"It’s not a big deal, White. Listen, I appreciate you coming over and worrying about me and everything, but I'm tired. I'm gonna go to bed."

"It is a big thing, Kayla, but fine, we'll go to bed,” I tell her, standing up.

"I meant alone. You in your bed, and me in mine."

"That's not going to happen."

"I think it is."

"You should think again."

"Are you seriously going to fight with me on this, after the chaos of the last forty-eight hours?"

"I'm seriously going to fight you, if you think that I'm giving up what we've started."

"What we've started?"

"Exactly."

Kayla holds her head down and I'm kind of expecting her to cave at this point. That's why when she looks up at me, I'm surprised to see anger. She stands up, her body vibrating with it.

"Maybe now would be a good time to remind you that you agreed to sleep with me to help me have a baby—no other reason."

"I'm aware. I also know—"

"Then, it's also a good time to tell you that I no longer want a child."

"Why the hell not?"

"A number of reasons! But the most important being, I don't have a job!"

"Of course you do! You told me you got one—"

"With your brother!"

"What??" I yell, and this time my voice is louder than hers.

"I took a job from Green to teach his little boy, Allen."

"Why the fuck would you do that?"

"Because I needed a job!"

"No. I forbid it!"

"You… forbid it?"

"That's what I said. You are not going on the road with Green. And while we're on the subject, you are not to be around Blue, either."

"Have you lost your mind?"

"If I have, it's your fault."

"I doubt that!"

"I'm serious. You turn the tables on me until I can't remember what life was like without the taste of you on my lips. Then you leave town and don't even bother to return my damn texts or call me when you get back. You’re making me a raving lunatic!"

"You were the one who left me alone after our date on the Riverwalk, stud. Did you forget?"

"I was mad! You told that bitch I was your brother!"

"I think the last two days have shown that's true!"

"Bullshit! It shows you need to quit telling people crap like that and tell them I'm your man."

"My man?"

"I didn't stutter, Buttercup."

"You are unbelievable," she says, walking away from me. Which, by the way, leaves me chasing after her, yet again. Like a chump.

I grab her before she leaves the room, spinning her around to face me. A man can only take so much, and she's pushed me way past my limit.

"I'm done with letting you twist me in knots," I growl.

"You're insane."

"You've driven me to it," I mutter, wrapping my hand around the side of her neck and pulling her lips to mine.

CHAPTER 27

WHITE

Kayla's arms push against me. Her hands curl around my biceps, her fingers biting into my skin. She tries to pull her mouth away, and maybe I'm an asshole, but I don't let her. It's time she learns who is in control here. It's time she learns—me.

I increase the strength of the hold I have on her neck, basically forcing her to open for me. When she does, I don't think; I push inside her mouth, intent on owning it—on conquering her.

Her mouth is both cool and warm at once—a heat that is undeniably Kayla, and a taste that is from the cool sherbet she had earlier. My hand moves down to her breast, palming it, letting it fill and spill over as my fingers knead it. I'm being rough, zero finesse, and I don't give a damn because finally she stops trying to pull away and kisses me back.

Kayla isn't worrying about gentle either as her tongue fights mine for control. Domination. She'll need to learn that when it comes to this, I'm the one in control. I sweep my tongue through her mouth one last time before pulling away for air.

"You're an asshole," Kayla mumbles against my mouth, biting hard into my lips. The faint taste of copper enters my mouth and I know she's drawn blood—again. My dick was already close to exploding and that just made it worse. I gather the shirt she's wearing in my hand, forcing it to let go of her breast. Then I use my other hand at the collar and rip it down the middle. "I liked that shirt," she complains, but she's busy biting down the side of my neck. She's like a kitten with sharp claws, enjoying inflicting pain and leaving her mark. I wonder if she knows how much I fucking love that it's me she's marking?

"Too damn bad," I mutter, letting the shirt drop to the floor. I don't bother with her bra, just pushing it up and letting her breasts fall out of the bottom. I squeeze one hard as my head goes down. I run my tongue over the nipple which is crying for attention. It’s pebbled so hard, the tip looks painful. When I hear Kayla's moan, something fires through my system. A feeling of victory and purpose merges together. I was put on this Earth to bring this woman to her knees and yet make sure she flies high as possible. How did I not fucking see that before? I suck her breast in my mouth, tormenting the nipple mercilessly and making sure that when I'm done, my mark will be there. Fuck, I'm going to brand her. There won't be a part of her body I haven't made mine. When she looks in the mirror, I want her to see nothing but my ownership.

Her fingers tangle into my hair, pulling me to her. She brokenly whispers, "Please, White," and it’s like music to my ears. It seems like I've been chasing her forever. Crazy, but still it feels true. Today, that ends.

"You wear too many fucking clothes, Buttercup."

"I agree," she mutters, pushing my shirt up my stomach. I break away to help her drag it over my head. Once it’s off, I let it fall to the floor. My hands go to her hips, intent on nothing more than pushing her pants to the floor and having her naked. Kayla has other plans, though, as she dives to my chest, her nails digging into my flesh, her teeth holding my nipple prisoner as her tongue flicks it teasingly. She’s wild. She's not a kitten; she's a fucking wild tiger. Up until this moment, I thought she was shy. Now, I'm pretty sure she's just been scared. Get her out of her mind so she’s not worrying if she's doing things right, and she's every man's dream. My dream.

As good as this feels, I can't let it go on. I forcibly pull her hands away and pin them against the wall above her head. Kayla immediately pushes against my hold, twisting her entire body to try and break free.

"Behave," I bark.

"Let me go," she whines.

"Don't move your damn hands until I get you out of these clothes."

"Fine," she huffs. I immediately go to her hips, my fingers grabbing the waistband of her sweats.

"Holy Hell, Buttercup, you could fit three of you in these damn things."

She doesn't respond unless you count the grunt she lets out. She also doesn't mind me, because her hands have found their way to my jeans. The sound of my zipper echoes in my ears as I push her sweats down. They're so loose that they fall to the floor without stopping. I feel like a kid in a candy store when I realize she's not wearing underwear. I definitely hear a mental, "Yes," echoing in my head. That could be because around the same time, her hand wraps around my dick. She squeezes it so hard, my toes fucking curl against the hard leather of my shoes, which reminds me that I need to take them off. I'm not fucking my woman  in my socks and shoes like some kid getting his rocks off for the first time. I kick them off quickly and somehow even manage to push my pants down and step out of everything. I stumble a few times and come close to falling, but manage to pull it together. All I need is to end up on the floor, tangled in my own clothes. I'm sure that would just impress Kayla immensely.

Thought processes stop when she strokes my cock. The hold is still so fucking tight I want to scream in pleasure. She strokes from the root all the way to the tip, and I stare at her face the entire time. She watches every second of it, alive with need and pleasure. Just that look on her face, with her hand on my cock, would be enough to make me come. I feel my balls harden with pressure and I feel the heat move down my spine. I know as sure as my next breath that this is the one woman who could completely unman me. But that's not the way this is going down. Not by a long shot.

CHAPTER 28

KAYLA

My head is spinning. How I got here, I don't know. I just know that now I don't want it to end. I slide my hand along White's cock. The skin so hot to my touch, I think it's burning me, only the burn is deep inside, marking me in ways you can't see. Slowly, I stroke him, watching each movement. I watch as each swollen vein disappears beneath my hand only to vibrate against it. It's beautiful, really. The male body, I mean. It's completely beautiful and designed flawlessly, but White's body is like nothing I have ever seen before. Anyone else pales in comparison, or at least it does for me. I love him. I always have, but the truth is, I love him more every minute I spend with him.

I'm so involved with stroking him that I lose myself in it, which is my undoing, because all at once I find myself with my hands once again pinned above my head. I cry out in protest, already missing the feel of him and the way he heated my hand. I drag my eyes to him and the blue color in his eyes stop my breath.

"You're a bad girl, Kayla. I told you to keep your hands here."

You're a bad girl, Kayla. Cue the ovaries standing up at attention and starting to hit boiling point. Has anyone ever called me bad? Hell, no. Then again, I've never wanted to be bad for anyone. In honesty, I don't think I've ever truly wanted anyone. It's always been White.

I push against his hold, halfheartedly attempting to get free, wanting to touch him again. I stop quickly though when White pushes his body against mine. Hot, soft, flesh, beautifully naked, and pressing against each other. I've never felt beautiful or particularly erotic. Right now, I feel like a goddess. I thrust my body into him, or at least try. His hold and the way he has me restrained against the wall makes it pretty much impossible.

"I need to touch you," I whisper. It's just a whisper, a breathless whisper, because I'm busy watching as his large hand descends against my body, his fingers stretching out so that they cover the entire valley between my breasts with the tips stroking against the plump curve of them. His hand is darker than my skin, his skin calloused against my smooth flesh. The differences are night and day and yet completely right.

"That can't happen because the minute you touch me, this is going to be over," he groans. The side of his face is brushing against mine, his words deep and resonating, sending electric shocks up my spine. "You don't get to touch me, honey. Not until I show you exactly who is in charge of your body."

I should be annoyed, but instead, I have the strangest urge to beg him to show me. To keep from begging, I bite my lip and watch as the palm of his hand slides further down my stomach. For a second, I want to worry about the excess fat I have—apologize for not being tone and fit. Then, his hand's moving even lower, cupping against my heated center and squeezing, and any thought of not being good enough passes. I'm so wet. I can feel the evidence of my desire leaking against his hand. I squirm, needing more of the pressure he's giving me—just wishing he’d squeeze my pussy in a little different position. He doesn't let me move his hand, though. His hold only tightens, causing a sting of pain to vibrate through me at every angle.

"You'll get what I want to give you," he warns me, and then he twists his hand on my pussy, tightening it so my clit pops out front and center. I can feel cool air from the room tease it. More evidence of his effect on me pools and then slides down my inner thighs. I'm almost embarrassed, especially when I hear his groaning exclamation, "You're so fucking soaked for me, Kayla. I bet you'll take my cock in one long… slow… thrust. All the way in.” His voice is a quiet rumble, his breath hot against my ear and neck—so hot, I think it burns me.

"White," I whisper. It's one word, but it's full of need. Maybe White hears it because his fingers push, raking against the soaked valley of my pussy, and then he’s inside. I feel him stretching my opening and my head slams back against the wall. Finally. I thought I was going to go insane before he gave me what I wanted. His fingers thrust in, then pull apart deep inside of me. He pushes the pads of his fingers against my walls. My body shudders in reaction as I try to give him what we both want.

"Fuck, honey. I want to take my time," he mumbles, and my eyes are closed. I'm too far gone now, so close to the edge that I can taste it. "But… I can't. Fuck me. I’m sorry, Kayla, I can't go slow," he confesses, and he sounds frustrated with himself. I force my eyes to open when I feel his fingers leave my body. His eyes trap mine as surely as his hand has me trapped against this wall.

"Please," I whisper, needing his fingers back inside of me, needing him anyway I can get him at this point.

"I'll make up for this later," he says, and I haven't been able to pull my eyes away from his, so it takes me completely by surprise when I feel the head of his cock push against me. The tip slides in and my body latches on, trying to bring him inside further, clinging to him as if he was life itself. Right now, I think he might be. "I have to get inside of you, I can’t wait any longer," he growls. That's the only warning I get before his cock rams inside of me, robbing me of air. White pushes in until he's so deeply seated inside me that I feel like my body is going to fly apart. He gives me a second to get adjusted, which is good. If he hadn't, I'm not sure I would survive. As it is, I'm having trouble getting my lungs to work.

His hands move from my arms to my hips, his fingers rough despite being slick with my cream. They bite relentlessly into the fleshy cheeks of my ass. I don't know how he does it, but he seems to push his cock deeper until he bottoms out, hitting my cervix, thrusting into me and hammering so deep that I'm positive he's touching parts I never knew existed.

"Oh, fuck," I breathe with his first long, slow stroke. "Oh, fuck," I say again, a little louder, with his second. "Oh, fuck me!" I cry so loud I could probably wake the dead as he slams into me again, this time pulling my leg up on his hip.

I think I hear him laughing, I can't be sure. There's too much noise in my head and it's all from the blood rushing through my veins. I'm starting to see spots, my body feels like it’s floating. I'm going to come and I'm going to come so hard, it may kill me. "White! I'm coming!" I cry out. I have no idea if it's loud or a whisper. I'm lost. I'm lost in him. Over and over he pounds into me, taking me from one plateau to the next in ways I've never known.

An orgasm rakes through me with the force of a hurricane. My nails scratch down his back as I do my best to hold on and ride it out. Another hits and leaves me nearly limp as I feel White gather my body up and pull me into him. I anchor my legs around his hips as he fucks me. It's a struggle to remain conscious at this point. I experience a moment of complete euphoria, though, as I feel the heat of his climax jet into me. I clench my pussy even tighter against his cock, not wanting one drop of his cum to leave me.

Ever.

CHAPTER 29

KAYLA

White literally has to carry me into the bedroom. It's not late, but I haven't really slept since I was fired, and with what we just did… I don't have any energy. I want to sleep. And sleep for a long time.

We get to the bedroom and he moves me off his body. I whimper a little as he pulls out of me because even though he's only semi-hard now, he's still hard enough that he felt divine inside of me. He places me on the bed against the rumpled sheets. They feel cool to my warm back and I stretch against them, feeling completely sated in ways I never have before. I know when we get up, I'm going to be deliciously sore everywhere. White bends down and kisses my forehead. I want to protest. I don't want him to leave me, but it's a struggle to make my body obey commands and find my voice to object. Instead, I burrow against my pillow. I wish he had at least pulled the cover up around me, but I'm too tired to ask for that, let alone do it myself.

In a few minutes, I hear him come back into the room. I guess he must have changed his mind. I feel his hands around my legs and whimper. Dear Lord in Heaven, he couldn’t be ready to go again already.

"I can't," I whimper and moan, because as good as he is, there's no way I could survive another round. Although, as I feel him kissing the top of my pussy, just a soft brush of his lips, I think dying doesn't sound that bad. It'd be a great way to go.

"Don't worry, Buttercup," he says, pulling away from me. "You dead-frogged me."

Dead-frogged? What the hell is that? More importantly, does it mean I did something wrong? That gives me energy like nothing else could to open my eyes and watch him. He's sitting on the backs of his legs, bent between mine, and he has a cloth in his hand. I gasp when I feel a lukewarm cloth, which definitely feels cool to my well-used female parts, brush against me. He's cleaning me? Do men do this? I mean, no one ever has for me, but I didn't realize this was something any of them ever did. I can't take my eyes off of White, however, as he's bent down slowly sliding the cloth against my pussy and cleaning up the excess from our lovemaking.

"What are you doing?" I whisper, because he seems so serious, and solemn as he washes me.

"Taking care of what's mine," he says and then brushes another kiss, this one against the lips of my pussy. It’s a fleeting touch of his tongue against my clit, and my body quakes. My hand goes to sift through his dirty-blonde hair. As tired as I am, my greedy body wants more, and I'm tempted to hold him to me. I resist—barely.

"That does feel good," I whisper, emotion thick in my throat as White manages to make me feel cherished with just this simple act that really could—and probably should—have been embarrassing.

"Mmm," he whispers. "Soon. I have to rest. You dead-frogged me," he says again, reminding me of what I wanted to ask.

"Dead-frogged? What is that? Should I worry?"

White laughs, moving so he's lying beside me on the bed. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me into him, and I go willingly, letting his body warm mine. I breathe a sigh of appreciation as he pulls the sheet over us.

"You ever see a frog lying on the highway that's been run over?"

"Your sweet after-sex talk is off the charts, White Hall. Be still my heart, even."

"Hey, you asked."

"Okay, so it's gross and I'm sorry I asked, but yes I have."

"They're kind of splat against the pavement, flat as a pancake. That's what you've done to my poor dick."

I snort in laughter because that's grossly amusing. Then I look down at his dick, which is definitely not flat. It's more like waving in the air demanding attention.

"Odd, your dick doesn't look flat."

"He doesn't?” White looks down at his cock like he's really surprised.

"No. He's more like waving in the air saying… Me… me… me!"

"Hmm… Maybe we should test your theory out?"

"I would love to, but I didn't sleep last night and I am most assuredly dead-frogged myself."

"Then get some rest, honey. We'll go for round two when you wake up," he whispers in my ear, kissing the side of my head as I curl into him. I think I moan my approval. I can't be sure. Sleep is close to claiming me and the heat of his body is only helping.

"I really am sorry about the shit you've gone through. I've already called my manager. He'll get this crap under control by morning, you'll see. And then we'll see about getting your job back," he says, and that peaceful, sleepy feeling I had is gone. For a little bit, I had forgotten the ugliness of the past couple of days. Still, after what White and I shared, I wouldn't change much of it—if any.

"Don't worry about it, White. I told you, I already have a job. It's fine," I whisper, kissing his chest. I want to reassure him. Apparently my words do anything but because he pulls away from me.

"No. No you don't, Kayla."

"What? Of course I do, I already told you—"

"You are not working for Blue."

"What? Are you losing it? I told you I'll be teaching Allen, for Green."

"You are not going on the road with my brother. No."

"Do you know how asinine you're being?"

"You expect me to let you work for my brother? The very one you used to be in love with—?"

"It was a childhood crush!"

"If you say so. Regardless, he was also on your list of potential baby-daddies—"

"White—"

"A list I somehow didn't get put on," he growls.

"You were! You were just marked out and now you're being insane. Just because I put his and Blue's name down on a list, it doesn't mean anything."

"While we're on the subject, you need to stay away from Blue, too. In fact, I think it might be best you just stay away from my brothers in general. They think entirely too much with their dicks and not their brains."

"As opposed to you," I sigh.

"Exactly."

"I'm not staying away from the family indefinitely just because you apparently have issues."

"Not indefinitely. Just until I get time to talk to them, man-to-man."

I sigh. There's no arguing with him and my good mood is gone. So instead I just stay silent. White apparently takes my silence as agreement because in no time he's curled into me.

"Goodnight, White," I whisper after he's been silent for a little while.

"We'll just take a quick rest, honey," White mumbles, kissing my shoulder.

It takes thirty minutes before his breathing evens out. It takes another ten minutes to get myself untangled from him, an additional five minutes to make my legs work because apparently dead-frogged is an actual thing, and twenty more minutes to move slowly through the room and quietly pack my suitcase. Luckily, my closet is in the bathroom, so I have less risk of waking him up. Finally, it takes five more minutes to calm my nerves and walk out into my hall, suitcase tightly gripped in my hand.

Then I'm in my car, the engine idling and my GPS set for the Lucas farm. I might be in love with White Hall Lucas, but no one is ever going to tell me what I can and cannot do—even him.

CHAPTER 30

WHITE

"Where the hell is my woman?"

"Well, hello to you too," Green says, and he's grinning in a way that makes me want to smash his face in.

"Fuck you. Where's my woman?" I growl, brushing by him and looking around his living room only to find the place empty.

"Come on in, please," Green mutters, but I can still hear the laughter in his voice—the asshole. "And I didn't know you had a woman."

"Kayla," I grate through clenched teeth. He doesn't know how close he's coming to getting his ass kicked.

"Kayla? I thought she was just your buddy, your pal."

"Fuck you," I repeat because I'm lame and have no fucking comeback. I just want my woman. I want to bend her over my knee and spank her ass and maybe after I calm down, fuck it. Maybe before.

"You seem a little tense, brother."

"Are you done with your fun yet? Are you going to tell me where Kayla is or not?"

"Haven't seen her," he says and he's looking at me head-on, so I know he's not lying.

"Shit. I thought for sure she'd be here. She's not answering her phone."

"Maybe she doesn't want to talk to you?" Green suggests, sitting on the couch. I follow, picking the chair across from him. I rake my hands through my hair, feeling completely on edge. I can't ever seem to pin this woman down. Just when I think I can breathe easy, she does something else.

"Probably not," I sigh. "She ran away while I was sleeping."

"Kayla's always been pretty levelheaded. You running away, I could understand."

"The only running I've been doing is in circles, chasing after her," I confess, truthfully.

"Well that's different."

"Everything about Kayla is different."

"What was the big fight about?"

"It wasn't a fight, well not really. I forbade her to do something and I'm pretty sure she's going to prove she can do what she wants."

"Women don't like to be told what to do, that's for damn sure."

"Learned that through your vast experience, have you?"

"Do you know you're a smart-ass?”

"I've been told."

"Whatever. I know my history with women sucks. You don't have to rub it in. At least I have Allen out of it."

"Can't deny that. He's a good kid, but Kayla is not teaching him."

"That's not what she says."

"That's where our misunderstanding is," I tell him, raking my hand over the side of my face. “She’s not going on the road with you,” I growl. “I can’t handle it. The damn woman is already driving me to drink.”

I wince as I stretch my arm a little too much. I hope against hope that Green doesn't notice it, but I know I'm not going to get off that easy.

"Your shoulder's not healing." He says it quietly and it's not a question. He might be in a different sport, but he knows the score. He understands better than any of my brothers would, except maybe Gray. I rub the shoulder in reflex, grimacing.

"No. It's not. The last report wasn't good at all. I go back on the first of next month to check the range of motion and flexibility."

"What are all of the doctors saying?"

"Not a lot. They're going to try and put me in a cryogenic chamber next month and see if that will stimulate healing. Black mentioned it and I was stupid enough to bring it up to the team doctor."

"Fuck. That shit is painful."

"You've had it done?"

"Nah, a buddy on the team did last year. He says he still feels ice cubes on his fucking balls."

"I've heard the same. Still I have to try something. I'm not going to be able to play again like this."

"Maybe it's time to hang up the jersey."

"I’ve been thinking about it. Just not sure what comes next."

"You have options, man."

"Yeah, but I love football."

"There's other things to love," he says, and for some reason Kayla's face comes to mind.

"Would you give it up?"

"What? Baseball?"

"Yeah."

"In a heartbeat if I had a reason and if I couldn't play anymore. I could walk away without regrets."

"That's the kicker right there. Regrets."

"Do you have any?"

"A lot. Right now, I'm not sure they revolve around football though."

"And that brings you back to Kayla."

"Pretty much."

"I see what you mean about the circles," Green jokes and I shrug.

"I guess I better go find her. My luck, she's at Blue's."

"Why is that bad?" Green asks as we get up and walk towards the door.

"Because then I'd have to kill my brother."

"Finally found out he asked Kayla out?"

"You knew?"

"All of us did. Blue's quiet, but he knows what he wants. He sees in Kayla the kind of woman he wants long-term. You can't argue; Kayla's a hell of a woman," Green says as we make it to the door.

"That she is."

"Let me know if you find her."

"Will do," I tell him, turning away and trying to figure out where to turn next.

"Oh, and White?"

"Yeah?" I ask, looking over my shoulder.

"I'm going to fight to keep her as Allen's teacher. Just so you know."

"It's not happening."

"We'll see," he says, shutting the door behind me. I dismiss him from my mind. I need to figure out where to go next. It's past supper time and I haven't had dinner. I'll swing by Mom’s and get some leftovers. Maybe Mom has heard from Kayla.

CHAPTER 31

KAYLA

"Hello?"

"Hey, baby girl. White was just here looking for you. He didn't seem real happy."

"I didn't figure he would be," I tell Green with a sigh. "Did you tell him where I was?"

"I told him I hadn't seen you, which technically I haven't, but…"

"He's headed here.”

“Probably,” he laughs.

“It's okay. I expected it,” I tell him, and I did. I mean, I ran away to his mom's. Probably because in my heart, I didn't want to get away from him.

"Listen, if working with Allen is going to cause you two issues—"

"He's being unreasonable. He's worried about me going on the road. It'll be fine. It's four or five months away. He'll get used to it by then."

"You're sure?"

"Positive. You know as well as I do, you can't let White make every decision; he's too damn bossy."

"I hear some women like that kind of thing," Green says, and just the memory of the sex that White and I shared earlier makes my insides quake.

"Goodbye, Green."

"I still can't believe you put me on your list."

"I should have never told you."

"Oh, but just think of the fun I'll have with White about it."

"Dear God, are all you Lucas boys giant kids?"

"Bye, baby girl. See you tomorrow."

"Bye, Green," I say, laughing.

"That fucker knew you were here?" White demands from the front door.

So much for advance warning. "White Hall! Watch your mouth!" Petal yells from across the room. Her son, River, is with her building houses with blocks and she is not happy when one of her brothers uses bad language around them—which is often.

"He knew you were here and didn't tell me? He lied to me. I'm going to string him up by his balls—"

"You asked him if he had seen me. Technically, he hadn't." I shrug, moving towards the kitchen. I figure this conversation might get a little more heated, and being out of Petal and River's ears is for the best.

"Why the fuck did you just leave like that?" White growls.

"I didn't feel like arguing with you and you were being stupid."

"So you thought you'd just run away?"

"I didn't run, White. I left. I was planning on coming here tomorrow, anyway. For some reason, I wanted to talk to Green before you talked him out of hiring me."

"You're damn right I would have. You don't need to be—"

"The only objection you have to me working for your brother is that he was on a short list of suitable fathers."

"That's not the only—"

I sigh and walk to him, stretch up on the tips of my toes and kiss his lips to stop him. It's a quick kiss, there's nothing even remotely sexy about it. Unless you count the way his arms come around me to hold me. I steady myself on his upper arms as I pull away.

“I’m not looking for a potential father now. There’s no reason for you to be upset.”

“You had a crush on him,” he grumbles, sounding like a little kid who has had his favorite toy confiscated for being bad.

“White, that was ages ago and lasted a minute. I missed you,” I tell him in complete honesty.

“Then you shouldn’t have left. There were things we had left to discuss.”

“Is ‘discuss’ code for sex here?”

“Maybe,” he says, and his lips spread into a smile as he relaxes. I can feel the tension leave him.

“Then maybe we can discuss things later,” I tell him and this time I know it’s not my imagination that his hands bite into my hips as we stand there. Suddenly out of nowhere it hits me that White thinks I’m pretty. It’s there in the way he’s looking at me, and the smile on his face. It’s in the way he’s holding me, and the way he’s jealous over his brother. To a woman who has never felt particularly pretty in her entire life, this discovery is life-altering.

“What you two better be discussing is why no one told me about my grandkid you are hatching!”

My head goes down with a wince and I close my eyes. I’ve told Ida Sue that I’m not pregnant. She’s either completely tuning me out or thinks I’m lying. I hear White’s matching groan of frustration and feel his fingers bite into my hips again. There’s definitely going to be bruises there tomorrow.

“Mom, I told you. Kayla’s not pregnant.”

“Then what was all the crap in the papers?”

“Someone who knew me saw us standing in front of the clinic and snapped a picture, Ida Sue. She sold it for money. I promise you, if I was pregnant I would tell you.”

“What a fur-burger,” she grumbles. “White, what were you doing at the clinic anyway if you hadn’t knocked up my girl?”

“Fur-burger?” I repeat, mostly dumbfounded. I’m used to Ida Sue. It’s just I’ve never heard of that particular term before.

“Yes, dear. You know a hairy twat. A fur-burger.”

“I want a fur-burger!” Little River says, coming in with Petal and Petal’s face goes pale as a ghost.

White loses it, laughing into the back of my neck as he pulls me into him.

“With the way the boys in this family are, you probably will someday,” Petal mumbles, and this time I have to bite my lip to keep from joining White in laughing.

“You don’t want one. How about a regular hamburger instead?” Ida Sue says, bending down to the little boy.

“No, thanks. Daddy is coming to take me to dinner. We’re gonna have pizza!”

“Yay. When’s Puke-a getting here,” Ida Sue mutters.

“His name is Luka and can you please be civil about him around River? He is his father,” Petal whispers.

“He’s not paying attention to me,” Ida Sue says, and it’s true since the little boy in question has moved to the other side of the room and is petting a dog.

“Still, Mom. You know better. Luka is a part of our lives.”

“I didn’t choose that. I remember telling you from day one you were making a mistake with that one.”

“Did you ever think that if you had lightened up on Luka, we might have made it?”

“Don’t go blaming me for the reason your marriage ended. The fact that Luka was cozying up with his new female deputy had a lot more to do with that than me.”

“I don’t want to talk with you about this,” Petal sighs. “I’m going to get River ready to see his dad.”

“Fine with me. I’d rather not think about that idiot. It will ruin my appetite. Besides, I’d much rather know what Kayla and White were doing outside a family planning clinic.”

“They give out rubbers at those things too, Mom,” White sighs.

“Nice try, dear. But I’m not buying that since Kayla here wants a baby and we all know that.”

“Mom, you ever start to think that maybe none of this is your business?”

“White,” I complain, because I don’t want to hurt Ida Sue. Ida Sue is just Ida Sue. She’s a force to be reckoned with, sure, and she can definitely be overbearing. The thing is, however, when it comes to hearts and being there for people she loves, she would lay down her life without even blinking.

“It’s okay, Buttercup. If my own son wants to treat me like I don’t matter. If he wants to disrespect me and break my poor heart…”

“Oh for Christ’s sake. We went to the clinic to get tested,” White says, exasperated, and I feel heat flood through me.

“Tested? What on Earth for?”

“Diseases.”

“Don’t be an idiot!” Ida Sue says, hitting him lightly with her hand. “I meant what on Earth would you be worried about that for? Did you catch something from one of those football groupies that follow you around? I swear, I warned you and Green both, women like that would end up giving you something to cause your dicks to rot off. Thank God, Buttercup is smarter than to go into things blindly.”

“I don’t have anything. Jesus, Mom. Kayla just wanted to make sure we were both healthy before we started…”

“Started?” Ida Sue says, and I swear she’s grinning.

“White,” I say, trying to stop him, but it doesn’t do any good. I knew it wouldn’t, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

“Kayla wants a baby,” White says and the way he says it causes my stomach to drop. Kayla wants a baby. He said we’re going to try to have a baby, not we’re going to start a relationship. Kayla wants…

The decision to stay on birth control seems smarter and smarter. Now, if I could just work through the guilt.

CHAPTER 32

WHITE

"You okay, honey?"

"Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"You just seem awful quiet. I'm worried about you," I tell Kayla. We had a sandwich together and visited with my crazy family for a little while and now we're back in my room. I was afraid Kayla would insist on staying in her old room, but she hasn't.

"I'm just tired, White," she says with a smile. I want to believe her, but something seems off. Instead of pushing it, I just let it go. I'll figure it out eventually. Right now, I'm just really glad I have her in my arms.

"Where do you think Mom went off to in such a hurry?"

"No idea, though she mentioned needing to go to the grocery store," Kayla says, walking away to go into the bathroom.

"This late at night?" I voice my doubts, yanking my shirt over my head and throwing it on the ground. I stretch out on the bed, picking up the remote and start sifting through the channels.

"Who knows? Ida Sue is special."

"That's one way of putting it."

"Lay off your Mom. You're blessed and you know it."

"I do, doesn't mean she doesn't scare the hell out of me sometimes," I answer as Kayla comes in from the bathroom, wearing a long t-shirt that has the name of Green's baseball team on it. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

Kayla rubs lotion on her hands and stops with a confused look on her face, like she doesn't know what I'm talking about. Maybe she doesn't. Maybe I am being unreasonable. But Jesus, it's like she's begging me to spank her ass.

"What are you going on about now? I swear you harp more than a fifty-year-old woman who's going through menopause."

"Umm, honey, talking like that right there, is way too much like my Mom. Try to nip that shit in the bud."

"Whatever. You, White Hall Lucas, are a whiner."

"Oh, I are, are I?"

"You are."

"Come down here and I'll show you a whiner."

"Maybe I don't want to. You might bitch about the size of my hands or something," she huffs, standing over me. I reach up and pull her until our bodies collide and she’s lying on top of me.

God. How do you go your whole life without touching someone in any sexual way—without even thinking of them like that—only to learn that your arms are empty without them? Worse, you're missing something extremely vital without them.

"I love the size of your hands. I think they're perfect," I tell her bringing her hand up to my lips and kissing it. The taste of her skin mingles with a hint of the cherry flavoring in the lotion. Kayla.

"Perfect?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Mmm… hmm… Just right to stroke my cock and squeeze it tight..."

"Pervert," she mutters, shaking her head, but she kisses my hand that's holding hers.

I slowly bring my hands down her body, once again memorizing the feel and shape of her. I move slowly, taking my time, rewarded by a small sigh of pleasure as Kayla settles against me, laying the side of her face against my chest. I don't stop until my fingers are around the edge of the shirt she's wearing. Then I slowly begin to gather the ends in my hands, distracting her by letting my thumb brush back and forth around the back of her leg, driving up to the globe of her ass.

"White!" she squeals. Once I get the shirt gathered, I waste no time in moving it up and over her body, holding her still as best as I can so we both don't end up in the floor. "What are you doing? I'm not sleeping naked in your mother's bed!"

"I wasn't planning on sleeping at all," I tell her honestly.

"I'm not having sex in your mother's bed either!"

"Honey, we're not in my mother's bed. We're in my bed. But regardless, whatever we do, we are not doing it with you wearing my brother's shirt."

"You have to be joking. It's not his shirt, you goofball. It's mine! I bought it when I went to see him play last year."

"It has his team's name, so same difference."

"You are seriously nuts."

"I have a t-shirt with my team on it in one of those drawers over there. You can wear it if you want."

"How have I known you for over fifteen years and never realized what a jealous freak you are?" she asks.

It's a damn good question. I've never been jealous in my life, not before Kayla. Hell, I thought that men who got jealous over their women were losers. I was secure enough in my manhood to know any woman I chose wouldn't stray because I could give it to her better than any other asshole out there. In short, I was a cocky, stupid motherfucker. It's not about trusting your woman not to stray. It has everything to do with the fact that Kayla is mine. I want my name all over her. I want my ownership stamped on her damned body. I want her to walk down the street and men to step the fuck back because they know she's mine and I will fuck them up if they so much as look at her. I want her to know with every breath that I’m the lucky son of a bitch she’s coming home to. Me, and I'm not going to let her go.

Jesus. When did this happen?

I feel like an idiot thinking these thoughts. I don't know how to verbalize them with Kayla, so instead I clear my throat and give her part of it.

"With you, honey, I feel the urge to stamp my name on every part of your body."

Her eyes go wide. Maybe she gets what I'm trying to say. Maybe she can hear the commitment in my voice. I don't know. I do know when I feel her soft hand glide along the side of my face and her eyes capture mine, my heart feels like it swells in size.

"Do I get to do that with you?"

"Absolutely, if that's what you want," I answer without hesitation.

"That's some heavy words there, White Hall."

I move my hands down her back, letting them move down to her ass and massaging it while pulling her deep into my body. We fit together perfectly. Does she realize that? That we're a perfect match?

"Give me your lips, honey."

"You're very bossy," she says, her tongue running across her bottom lip, her eyes still on mine.

"I know. Now do it."

"I'm only doing this because I want to," she whispers.

'I know," I repeat, and then when her lips touch mine, I try to give her all the words I couldn't voice earlier in the kiss. Then, I try to give them with my body. I'd like to think she gives them back. It feels like she gives them back, and that will have to be enough for right now.

CHAPTER 33

KAYLA

“Jesus Christ, Mom, what is this shit?”

“What?”

“This crap,” White says, holding out this putrid green liquid that Ida Sue handed him when we walked into the kitchen.

“Oh. I went shopping last night and decided to buy myself a juicer. Did you know that vegetables and fruits have a million uses that the good Lord intended?” she asks, picking out more produce to torture. “But people don’t use them. I guess because it’s just simpler to buy things provided on a shelf in a grocery store.”

“Really?” I ask, watching as White pushes his straw through his drink. He’s so cute when his nose is turned up like that. He’s cute any way, really. He’s sexy and funny, loving and gentle. I’m pretty sure I’m in over my head with him too. I’m scared to death, but I can’t seem to stop it.

“Yes, Buttercup. Some even say the cure to cancer can be found in the pit of a peach.”

“Why do you insist on calling her Buttercup?” Blue asks, walking in looking like he’s put in a day’s work already, even though it’s barely eight in the morning. Truth is, he probably has. Blue runs his own ranch and helps out with this one. He is the quintessential cowboy from his well-worn chambray shirt, to his tight-fitting Wranglers.

“Her eyes remind me of them,” Ida Sue says, putting more innocent fruit into her next concoction. From the look on White’s face, I can only pray that I’m not expected to drink what she’s fixing next.

“You keep saying that, but we all know you mean Black-eyed Susans. Buttercups don’t have a dark button in the center,” Blue says, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek.

“I can’t very well call her Black-eyed, Blue,” Ida Sue says, waving him off when he sticks his nose to sniff what she’s fixing.

“Don’t know why not. It didn’t stop you from naming my sis Lotus Petal,” Blue says, having grabbed a box of cereal, milk, a bowl, and silverware before coming back to sit with me.

“Lotus is a beautiful name. Though, she was such a sour child, I probably should have named her Lemon Tree.”

“I’m sitting right here, Mom!” Petal grumbles, pushing around her own cereal.

“I know, sweetheart,” Ida Sue says, dismissing her.

“Kayla, I swear to God you get prettier every time I see you. What do you say we leave all these crazies here and I whisk you out to the barn and show you the fresh hay pile I just fixed?” Blue leans in with a wink.

He’s a ridiculous flirt—at least with me. He’s rather closed off with other women. He’s asked me out, but I don’t think he even truly thinks of me like that. I get the feeling he wishes he did. Sometimes I wish the same. Blue is definitely the wife, kids, and home type. But I really think kissing him would be about as exciting as watching paint dry.

“I don’t…” I can’t finish my sentence because White comes over. At first he doesn’t bother me, but I brace myself, figuring he’s about to go caveman and hug or kiss me in front of Blue. After all, it was just last night he mentioned stamping his name all over my body. But, he doesn’t hug me.

He doesn’t even look at me. He’s too busy taking his fist to Blue. He hits him right under the chin, forcing Blue’s head back. The hit is so quick that Blue had no idea what was coming, nor had a chance to defend himself. He falls back against the hard floor, chair and all.

I expected him to jump up and strike back. White must have too because he stands in front of me so that I’m shielded by his body. The room is quiet, waiting for Blue to strike back, all except for Cyan who is just munching away on his cereal like nothing is going on—oh, and the sound of Ida Sue’s juicer humming.

“What the fuck was that for?” Blue grumbles, staying down on the floor, but leaning up on his elbow. He’s rubbing his chin and moving his jaw—probably to see if anything is broken. I don’t blame him.

“That was for asking Kayla out.”

“Just to the hay pile,” Blue defends.

“Ida Sue and I love the barn, though nothing quite beats the kitchen table,” Jansen adds in his two cents, taking his hat off as he comes into the kitchen. He goes straight to Ida Sue to give her a kiss. No one responds to the kitchen table comment. I’m pretty sure we all tune out references to Ida Sue and Jansen’s sex life now.

“I’m not talking about now. I’m talking about before. Kayla said you asked her out.”

Blue looks at me and my face heats up, but I just shrug. I’m going to kill White.

“That was a year ago,” Blue grumbles, getting up and fixing his chair. Thankfully, he doesn’t hit White back, seemingly more intent on fixing his cereal.

“You should have told me. Kayla’s mine.”

“Yours? If I remember correctly, you were dating that blonde airhead. What was her name again?”

“Cannnnnnnndy,” everyone chimes in, drawing out the name just like the woman in question always did. Cyan even imitates her annoying voice, getting pretty close to the original, and I can’t help but smile. God, I hated that woman.

“Let’s forget about how stupid I used to be. Just remember Kayla’s mine now, so stay away,” White growls before grabbing the chair on the other side of me and forcing Blue to move down so there’s a space between us. Then he moves his big body into it. Once he sits down, I take my elbow and jab it into his stomach as hard as I can.

“Umph,” he gasps.  “Shit, honey.”

“Quit being an idiot,” I grumble, even though I’m secretly ecstatic. That probably doesn’t say great things about me, but I find I don’t really give a damn. White wants me. White is jealous!

“Whatever happened to Candy anyway?”

“Her boobs exploded and caused what was left of her brain cells to run away,” Petal says, not bothering to look up from the newspaper.

“That’s not very nice. Candy had her faults, but she was always nice to you, Petal,” White grumbles, still eyeing the slimy green shake his mom gave him. I elbow him again, though this time because he defended Candy. Asshole. “Ow! Damn it!” he whimpers and I just smile. I figure that hit was pretty self-explanatory.

“I wasn’t being mean. I’m serious,” Petal defends. “She got some kind of thing on the internet that was supposed to inject air into your boobs and make them larger. She mixed it with some black market Botox solution that, in turn, interacted with her leaky implants. Ker-splash! Instant boob explosion. Them suckers went off like fireworks on the Fourth of July.”

Silence around the room.

Petal finally looks up and smiles. “I have the pictures Candy sent me if you don’t believe me. She married the plastic surgeon who fixed her back up. She’s now the proud owner of size 42 Double V’s.”

“No fucking way.” This comes from Jansen, who I honestly don’t think curses at all, but if ever an occasion called for it, it’d be this one.

“Want to see?” Petal asks, getting out her purse. Jansen, Cyan, and Blue all head over there.

“Don’t you dare,” I grumble when White starts to get up.

“What? Why? Come on! You can’t tell me you aren’t wondering what in the hell that looks like?”

“Go ahead and look, but if you do, you won’t be seeing mine again anytime soon,” I tell him. Though, I’m not being fair. I am totally curious and I’ll be hitting up Petal to look at those pictures later.

“Hey! I know her!” Cyan says, drawing everyone’s attention. “What? She’s a star!”

“He’s right,” Petal says, putting the pictures back in her purse. “She’s a big-time porn star now. She’s won several Golden Dildo awards.”

“It scares me that you know what those are,” Ida Sue says and Petal just shrugs.

“You mean I dated a porn star?” White asks, and I wonder if I should hit him again.

“Yeah, man, but to be fair, I’ve only seen one of her movies. It was a cult classic though. The Titties That Tamed Cock-Zilla.”

“Sweet baby Jesus,” Ida Sue mutters, and I have to agree with her.

“Well, to be fair, Candy did like for you to put your—”

“If you say another word, I’m going to the hay pile with Blue,” I warn.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Blue says with a wink.

White flips him off and gives me a look—which I return.

Asshole.

CHAPTER 34

WHITE

From the look on Kayla’s face, it’d be a good thing if I change the subject. Besides, all joking aside, the fact that Candy is now some Golden Dildo award-winning porn star is a little gross. I find myself wanting to jump in the shower and wash my dick… or make Kayla. That would probably be my best bet. I feel my dick pulse against my jeans. Time to change the subject unless I want to sport a chubby around my brothers and my Mom.

“Mom, you can’t expect me to drink this.”

“I sure can and you will drink every last drop, White Hall. That’s a nutritious morning shake that’s jam-packed full of vitamins and things you need. Speaking of which, here’s yours, dear,” Mom says, handing Kayla a glass. At least her shake isn’t green. It’s a really pretty color of orange, kind of like an evening sunset. I lean over to smell it. Kayla frowns at me and I kiss her nose.

Her shake doesn’t smell bad, unlike the nasty thing I’m holding.

“Uh… thanks, Ida Sue,” Kayla whispers nervously, shaking her drink.

“Go ahead, try it! It’s got peaches in it. You’ll love it,” Mom encourages.

I watch as Kayla slowly brings it to her mouth. I get distracted watching the way her throat works as she drinks it. I never thought certain things were sexy before Kayla. I was definitely wrong as I watch the orange-colored cream slide into her mouth and she swallows, all hopes of not sporting a hard-on around my mother have been dashed.

“Do you like it?” Mom asks, and my hand reaches under the table to adjust my dick.

“I do,” she says. “It’s good, kind of citrusy and sweet. What’s in it?”

“Different things. Oranges, peaches, and I added some cranberries.”

“It’s good,” Kayla repeats while swallowing down a second drink. She seems to be telling the truth, so after one last sniff, I decide to take a swig of mine. Maybe it tastes better than it looks.

Wrong! So, wrong.

The putrid crap seems to lodge in my throat and I have to gag to swallow it the rest of the way down. I can’t know for sure without an x-ray, but I’m pretty sure that shit is burning out my intestines. I slam the glass back down on the table.

“What the fuck is in that?”

“Will you watch your language? All this talk of tits and cock-zillas, and now your language is getting out of hand. River will be back any time. You boys already have Terry talking like a sailor. When you and Kayla make me a grandkid, I will skin you alive if you don’t clean up the way you talk.”

“You tell him, Mom,” Cyan joins in.

“I think you ought to make Cyan and Blue drink this shit,” I grumble. Kayla giggles and I fake a mean look at her, which makes her laugh more. Why something that simple makes me so ridiculously happy, I have no idea.

“Stop your whining. Jesus! What you’re drinking is a mixture of coffee—which you love, White Hall Lucas. Don’t bother denying it.”

“That can’t be just coffee,” I argue, wondering idly if it would strip the stain off this table.

“It also has carrots, Serrano chilies, and celery,” Ida Sue lists off, like what she is saying is just a normal everyday recipe.

“Mother of God, are you trying to kill me?”

“Of course not. I’m trying to help.”

“Help what? Help make me stay in the bathroom all day, praying to the porcelain gods?”

“Okay, now you’re just being an asshole. I’ll have you know that is a very healthy shake that’s recommended by naturalists everywhere.”

“Were these naturalists sadists?”

“I’m ignoring you now, son.” Ida Sue says, walking over and putting a fresh bowl of cereal in front of Cyan.

“Why does Cyan get more cereal and I get the milkshake from the Exorcist?”

“If you must know, he doesn’t have a problem.”

“A problem?” I ask, wondering if I can reach over and swipe the cereal away to eat without Mom catching me.

“Am I going to have to spell it out for you, White Hall?”

“Gee, Mom. I really wish you would because I’m kind of lost.”

“Fine. Cyan doesn’t have a problem performing.”

“Performing?”

“Performing, dear. His little soldiers are always lined up and ready to go.”

“Oh, no,” Kayla whispers, dropping her head to the table. The room goes quiet as everyone stops to listen to Ida Sue. “White,” Kayla starts, and I know she wants me to end this conversation, fast.

“You think my soldiers aren’t ready to go with Kayla?” I bark out, and maybe a little too loud because I can see Kayla wince out of the corner of my eye.

“Apparently not, dear. That’s what the shake is for. Cyan doesn’t need the help. If anything his soldiers over perform.”

“Thank you for noticing, Mom,” Cyan says, doing a bad job of hiding his amusement. Blue is flat-out laughing too. I’m going to kill them both later.

“You’re welcome, son. Now eat your cereal.”

“I’ll have you know, my soldiers are just fine. They’re more than ready to go,” I grumble.

“Whatever you say, White Hall. Now drink your shake.”

“I’m telling you, they’re fine. Why would you think they weren’t ready to go?”

“It was way too quiet in your room last night.”

“You listened?” I growl, and it almost drowns out Kayla squeaking the same words.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, son. It happens. Why, even Jansen used to have some problems before I started making sure he had plenty of pumpkin seeds around. Now he’s probably the rowdiest man around.”

“Jesus, lovey,” Jansen growls.

“You are, Jansen. You should be proud of that. Why, I’m practically buying a bushel of peaches a day just to keep up with you.”

“Peaches?” Kayla squeaks, looking at her half-gone shake in fear.

Ida Sue pats her on the shoulder. “Peaches, dear. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t leave you out. Peaches increase the blood flow with their vitamin C.”

“Blood flow?”

“Yes, and that means you’ll get turned on faster.”

“Oh, God,” Kayla whispers, but for some reason that makes me want to laugh—or go out and buy a peach orchard.

“Exactly, dear. It will help get you primed. That way, my White doesn’t have to do all the work,” she says calmly. Kayla looks around the room. I’m not sure if she’s looking for alcohol to put in her peach drink, or an exit. An exit might be the best option.

“Mom, I think you’ve gone too far.”

“Really, White Hall? Then why was there no action coming from your room last night? It’s a sad day when one of my sons can’t manage to do his duty with his woman.”

Blue and Cyan are laughing like little girls in school. I’m definitely going to wear my fists out on their faces later. Kayla looks up at me, and she might be bright pink with embarrassment, but the smile on her face, even as she’s desperate to get us out of this conversation, soothes me.

“Thanks for worrying, Mom. But I can assure you that my soldiers and I are raring to go. Kayla just didn’t feel comfortable and was quiet. She was afraid someone would hear us.”

“White!” Kayla cries, and I grin.

“Hear you? Why would anyone be listening to you two? That’s just silly,” she dismisses and I have to bite my tongue from pointing out that she obviously was listening last night.

“Let’s just let it drop, Mom. Kayla and I are good.”

“Fine, son. If you aren’t going to have your shake, at least have some watermelon,” she says, putting a large bowl of cut melon in front of me. I’m unsure what watermelon is supposed to do, but at least I know it will taste okay. I look over at Kayla and shrug. Ida Sue sits a bowl of melon in front of her too.

“Here you go, Buttercup,” she says loudly and then bends down between us. She drops her voice down a tone or two, but it’s still plenty loud enough for everyone to hear—especially Blue, who is right beside us. “Don’t worry. Watermelon is like nature’s Viagra.”

Kayla nearly chokes—suddenly looking at the watermelon in her hand as if it has grown three heads. Me? I may never look at watermelon the same again. I plop a whole piece in my mouth and leer at Kayla. I’m foreseeing becoming addicted to watermelon.

CHAPTER 35

KAYLA

"Oh, no. Stay away from me, White Hall," I order White when he comes out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel and a smile.

"No way."

"Yes way! We are not having sex with your mother listening to see if your soldiers make a successful swim."

"Into the lakes of Kayla Graham?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows like a dork, but looking so fine and sexy that he could melt any female around.

"Very funny. Now put on your jogging pants and let’s get some sleep."

Instead of listening to me, he half-jumps, half-falls onto the bed beside me, his stomach down. I try to ignore the curve of his ass and how beautiful it is. I even manage to resist the urge to squeeze it—barely.

"I'm sorry, Kayla, but I can't in good conscience go along with your plan," he says very solemnly, looking at me like he's completely serious, except his eyes are shining. The blue is filled with humor and mischief. This is the White Hall who I fell in love with as a kid and the White Hall who makes my heart smile now. White wears many faces in public, but I like to think that the big kid inside is only revealed to those he truly cares about.

"And why is that, dare I ask?" I question, shaking my head and trying to hold back a yawn.

"If I don't fuck you so hard that you literally make the neighbors call the cops, my mother will be trying to feed me more of that pea green soup from hell. That cannot happen."

"I am not having sex with your mom's ear pinned to the outside wall. That cannot happen," I counter. "Besides, I really am too tired for sex."

"You've left me no other choice, Buttercup," White says, getting up from the bed and going to the wall. He turns to the side to face the post on the headboard, holding it with his hands. It's hard to miss the way his dick comes out with the head curving down because, well… he's huge. How he ever fit inside me, I do not know. I really do have this voice in the back of my head questioning just how big he is every time I see him. He can't be the normal size of men everywhere. If he is, my past sex life is even sadder than I already thought it was.

"What are you going to do, White Hall? Hump the headboard? That watermelon really did do a number on you," I reply, trying to sound bored, and I'm pretty sure I'm failing—mainly because I'm wondering where I can find a tape measure.

"The only number that watermelon did to me today is keep me going to the bathroom—and not for usual fun. Watermelon is not nature’s Viagra. If anything, it's nature's Ex-Lax."

"Oh, God."

"It's true."

"With bedroom talk like this, I can't figure out why I'm not just raring to go."

"I know right? You should be bowing at my feet and calling me master."

"I think you have the wrong girl for that kind of fantasy."

"Story of my life," he says and then he grabs the post and slams it against the wall.

"What are you doing?" I hiss.

He smiles and then slams the wall with the post again.

"Oh fuck, baby, you feel so good," he groans. It’s not the voice he uses when we have sex, but it's a pretty good version. "That's it, Kayla, take all of me. Take it all," he groans and slams the headboard back again. This time it's harder than before and I think he might break the bed.

"White!" I shriek.

"Yeah, baby, I'm right here. That's it, open up for me. Take it all, Kayla! Take it all!"

"I can't believe you right now! There's kids in the house! They'll hear!" I hiss.

"There's not. River is at his dad's. Kayla, honey, I'm not drinking any more of that shit, or having Mom drum up something worse. So either play along or prepare for tomorrow," White whispers back.

Normally, I would ignore him at this point. This is Ida Sue we're dealing with, however. If she thinks White and I aren't having sex, what would be her next move? Renting porn? A sex therapist? Nothing seems too far out of the realm of possibilities with Ida Sue and that's the damn truth.

White slams the headboard back against the wall again and I find myself moaning, "That's it. Give it to me, Big Daddy!"

White's entire body goes solid. He looks over at me and mouths, "Big Daddy??"

I shrug.

"Jesus, Kayla!" he groans, and I start to know a minute of real fear when he smiles at me. He takes his palm and slaps it openhanded on the wall. "You're so hungry for my cock. You're going to break it off."

"Hungry for it?" I mouth back, and this time, he shrugs and looks way too satisfied with himself.

"You're beggin' for it, aren't you, baby? You've never had a dick as good as mine," he adds.

"Beggin' for it?" I mouth again, and I know he's trying to get to me. Maybe even embarrass me.

If I stop to think about his entire family listening to us, maybe I would be. Maybe I would die of mortification. Instead, the challenge I see in White's eyes spurs me on and, as usual when it’s the two of us involved, I forget the outside world. I stand up on the bed, stick my tongue out at him, and begin jumping up and down, smiling broadly as the mattress springs start squeaking. White gives me a look of approval.

"I am. God, I'm dying for your dick!" I groan, and this time, White's eyes go large. He grins like the big goofy child he can be at times.

"You want it that bad, baby? Bend over and I'll show you how a real woman takes it."

"Bend over?" I ask him silently.

In answer, White abandons his stance at the head of the bed and gets up on the bed with me. A nervous flutter sifts through my stomach as he gets next to me.

"My baby wants her ass fucked hard, doesn't she?" he asks, and my pussy literally contracts at the images he evokes, along with a fear. His cock is huge and, well… anal sex isn't something I ever even imagined trying—especially with White.

"Wrong hole. No. Just. No," I hiss, much quieter. "Besides, this is about making a baby, remember?" I tell him, pretty sure I'm trying to remind myself more than him.

"I'm claiming your ass, honey. And this has turned into much more than baby-making," he says back quietly. His voice rakes across my body, causing a strange curl of need to form in my stomach.

"No."

"Yes," he argues back.

"I said no," I mutter, forgetting our game.

"But you mean yes," he says with a grin, and this time, that grin pisses me off—mostly because he could be right.

"I'm pretty sure no means no," I grumble, ready to change the subject because my entire body feels flushed. "No, White! Don't come so fast. I'm not there yet!" I yell out as I look at White with what I hope comes off as a fuck-you look.

"You mean yes. I guarantee if I checked right now, you'd be dripping wet. And quit trying to be a bitch. It just makes me want to take that ass even more," he says, his hands moving from behind my back to grab my ass cheeks, squeezing them so tight I will probably bruise. "I’ve got you, baby. I know what you need. Daddy will always give you what you need," he says and then he spanks me hard with one of his hands.

His words take away my breath. The burn from his spanking hurts because my ass is bare except for the shirt I’m wearing. Underneath the fiery burn, I can feel that knot of need and heat that he's started in my body grow. I want more. I've got a feeling I want whatever I can get—as long as it's White giving it to me.

I think about how he thinks he knows everything. His self-satisfied look annoys me. He thinks he knows me so well. He thinks he knows exactly what to expect from me. When he winks at me with another wise-ass grin, I feel the need to show him he’s not always in charge.

"Harder, White! I need it harder so I can feel every inch of those six inches you're packing!" I cry.

For a moment, I know what it feels like to have total victory over White. I'm euphoric at the disbelief on his face. It feels so good that I forget and bounce harder in happiness and victory. It's a fantastic moment—a moment that is soon over when there's a cracking noise and the bed gives way and falls.

We're tilted to an angle as the box spring and mattress beneath us slam hard on the floor. White falls back. He grabs me before I can fall the opposite way, wrapping me in his arms and protecting my body as we tumble backwards. I hear the breath rush out of White's body as we collide and his back slams against the floor. We lie still as he tries to take air back into his lungs. I'm too much in shock to move. Then, all at once, the door opens. We're hidden by the now-broken bed and I don't want to look. In fact, I go with my first instinct and bury my face in White's chest. He holds me tighter, but sits up so that I'm forced to go with him. We peek over the top of the mattress and there at the door stands Ida Sue, Jansen, Cyan, and Petal.

Kill me now.

CHAPTER 36

WHITE

“Are you still pouting?" Kayla asks me again.

I might be pouting a little. Cyan, Blue, Green, and Gray have all been calling me “little brother” all day thanks to her—and they're not talking about age. The fact that Blue, Green, and Gray weren't here last night means that Cyan has broadcast that shit far and wide. They've been calling me so much to see how their little bro is doing that I've turned my phone off. Sometimes coming from a large family sucks.

"I'm not pouting," I tell her. Admit nothing. Deny everything. It's a good motto to have.

"You could have fooled me. Okay, if you're going to be Mr. Grumpy Gus, I'll leave you to it. I'm going to ride with Cyan out to the north pasture to see the new baby calves."

"It's okay. I'll take you. I was just thinking I needed out of the house for a little while," I tell her. Hell if I'm going to let her be gone all day with Cyan. I'm not sure he thinks of Kayla romantically, but it's better to be safe than sorry. Besides, Kayla is way too innocent for his kind of crazy fuckery.

"You sure?"

"Positive. Let's go. We can take the side-by-side."

"Sounds good," she answers as I fall into step beside her. I reach out and hold her hand. After a second, she relaxes and her fingers entwine with mine. We walk towards the side shed that is attached to the barn. The key to the vehicle is on the wall there. Kayla gets inside as I check the gas and start it up. I lean over to fix Kayla's seatbelt. There's no way she's riding without it. Before I can move away, I feel her fingers on the side of my face, gently brushing through the stubble that's grown there.

"You need a shave," she whispers.

"What, you don't like the ruggedly handsome look?" I ask her, trying to lighten up the mood, because there's this thick undercurrent of emotion between us that could choke me.

"I like," she says, and her lips brush against mine. It's different from our other kisses. This one seems more emotional. It's soft. It's slow. Our lips don't demand; they caress, they taste, and the kiss feels natural and honest.

"What was that for?" I can't help but ask when we break apart.

"I missed you. You were gone when I woke up this morning."

"Turns out sleeping on the floor is rough on an old football player," I joke, starting the vehicle up and heading us out toward the northern end of the ranch.

"Your shoulder was hurting?" she asks, and the question hits me with brute force. I've been running. I'm tired of it.

"It's always hurting, honey. It rarely lets up, especially if I use it much."

"You didn't tell me."

"I didn't want you to worry. I go back to the doctor next week. Hopefully they can figure out what's going on and fix it. They're doing that new cryo-therapy too. I'll get it figured out."

"I'll come with you."

"You don't have to, Kay. I can handle this."

"I know I don't have to. I want to. Unless you don't want me there for some reason?"

"Of course I want you there. I wanted you last time, remember?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry I didn't take off work. I was afraid to because I had just started."

"You didn't want to lose your job, honey. I understood," I tell her, and I'm not lying. I did understand, but it did bother me that she didn't put me first. If the roles were reversed, I would have.

"A lot of good that did me. I really am sorry, White. If I had it to do over, I would."

"I know."

"What about… Rachel?"

I rub the tension in the back of my neck. I knew this conversation had to happen. I've been putting it off. It seems I can't do that any longer.

"Kayla, there's nothing between me and Rachel."

"I get it. I mean I've never been the type to indulge in casual sex, but I mean, it's not like we have a normal relationship and, well, if you—"

I stop the UTV while she's talking and before she can finish, I force her to look at me. I press my thumb up against her lips to stop her because if she finishes that sentence, the only thing she will accomplish is pissing me off.

"If you're going to give me the all-clear to sleep with your sister, you might want to shut your fucking mouth now, Kayla," I growl.

"What? No! God, that'd be gross."

"Then what the hell are you saying?"

"Just that if you find what we're doing here isn't something you want to pursue—"

"Kayla," I warn her.

"I'm serious, White. You didn't want a kid and I'm not sure why you agreed to all of this, but—"

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

Her eyes go large, but she doesn't say anything further, which is good—damn good.

"I never slept with Rachel. I saw the doctor and the news wasn't great. I was depressed and needed someplace to sink my sorrows in a bottle. I was drunk off my ass and she was at the bar. It was just one of those weird things that happened."

"Like fate."

"Fuck no. More like a reason to not drink and be an asshole. Shit, honey, I'm not even sure how I ended up crashing at her place. The night is a blur, but I can tell you that we absolutely did not sleep together."

"You don't have to say that, White. I mean—"

"Kayla, sweetheart, listen to me. I promise you. We did not sleep together."

"Okay," she whispers, and I'm not sure she believes me. I want to push her into trusting me and believing what I say, but since I don't have any plans to ever deal with Rachel again, I guess it's not important. Besides, I wasn't lying to her. The entire night is a blur. I didn't sleep with her though, and I know that. I wasn't in any shape to, for one. And for another, I've never liked Rachel, which is why I'm mad at myself for being fucked enough for even crashing at her place.

"What do you say we drive down by the old pond and swim?"

"I didn't wear my swimsuit."

"That's what I'm counting on," I tell her with a wink. Time to step up my game, and talking about her fucked-up sister is not the way to do that. Getting her naked? That sounds like a much better plan.

CHAPTER 37

KAYLA

White brings the side-by-side to a stop by the old oak tree that, when I was younger, used to be my favorite place to sit and dream. I usually dreamed about White. He never knew that and I never planned on telling him. Right now though, I have the strongest urge to tell him everything.

“Kayla? You okay?”

I look around to see White standing on the ground looking through the opening of the UTV at me. I shake off my thoughts and smile at him.

“Just thinking. I loved this place when I was younger,” I tell him as I get out and walk to my favorite tree.

“I know. Whenever Mom couldn’t find you, she’d send one of us down to this pond to drag you back home.”

“This tree was my best friend growing up, even before Ida Sue gave me a home,” I tell him, placing one of my hands on the trunk as memories come back to me one by one.

“I thought that was me.”

“Ah, but there were things I couldn’t tell you. Secrets that were just between the tree and me. He’d hold me while I poured out my heart in ridiculous teen-angst-filled poetry in my notebook, or while I cried.”

“Cried? I don’t remember you being sad a lot growing up. Did you keep a lot hidden from me?” White asks, and I can tell the thought of me being upset hurts him.

“Every teenage girl is sad at some point, White—even without the family trouble I had.”

“I’ve been such an ass for so long. I thought we were there for each other, but I was blind to so much. I’m sorry,” he says, pulling me around to face him, his hand cupping the side of my neck. I close my eyes, my hand going over his. I breathe in his scent. “If I could go back,” he continues, “I’d move Heaven and Earth to give you the world.”

“Now you’re just being silly,” I tell him, but his words mean something. They answer a need in me from the little girl, and now the woman who has always wanted more from White, but never held out hope to receive it.

I slide down on the ground as White settles beside me, letting the tree support my back. White has his hand on my thigh, sitting close beside me. It seems surreal. How many times did I dream about this exact thing when I was seventeen?

“It’s not silly,” White says, squeezing my leg. I lean into him, kissing the side of his face just under his chin. Then I snuggle into him. “You snuggle like a cat,” he whispers into the top of my head.

“Well, right now I kind of want to purr like one. And it is silly. You can’t make a teenage girl fighting puberty and hormones happy. I’m pretty sure that’s impossible.”

“I would have tried my damnedest. Even if that meant making Green get a brain and see what he was throwing away,” White says, and I can’t help but laugh.

“My feelings for Green were much less significant than you give them credit for.”

“You were upset because he ditched you for Cynthia.”

“Only because of the prom. I never had those type of feelings for Green, not really. He was…”

“Was?”

“Let it go, White. Doesn’t everyone have crushes as a teenager that don’t mean anything?”

“I can’t say. I think life is different for teenage girls. With boys, it pretty much boils down to sex. You get a small taste and it’s like opening Pandora’s Box. You’ve got to keep experimenting. We’re ruled by hormones too, really. Just a different sort.”

“Eww.”

“Eww?”

“You just described every teenage boy as a mindless zombie bouncing from warm body to warm body just trying to get a fix. In the meantime, there are the girls writing love songs and sonnets over a boy and dreaming of forever.”

“That’s pretty much how it is.”

“Well, that’s the single most heartbreaking and unromantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Sorry, honey. If it helps, teenage boys are stupid and they do grow up.”

“Have you?” I ask jokingly.

“I’d like to think I know exactly what’s important now,” he says, turning my face to him. His fingers comb through my hair and his thumb brushes against my cheek. The look on his face is intense and my breath lodges in my throat and I’m afraid to breathe.

“White?” I question, hoping, but not knowing what it is exactly I’m hoping for.

“God, Kayla, you’re so beautiful,” he whispers so softly I’m afraid I heard him wrong. His breath fans my face, heating me up from the inside. I’m scared to move or even close my eyes, so I keep them open even as he leans in further to kiss me. They flutter shut just as his lips touch mine.

CHAPTER 38

WHITE

“Every time we kiss, it just feels better and better.”

I’m not really giving those words to Kayla as much as I am to myself. It seems impossible and yet with each kiss, I’m proven wrong. I watch as her lips, now swollen from our kiss, slowly spreads into a smile.

“You’re a really good kisser, White Hall Lucas,” she says with an innocence-filled blush. How a woman can be nearing thirty years of age and still, in most ways, remain untouched or spoiled from the world is beyond me.

“You do get I hate that name, right?” I decide to joke with her to break up the atmosphere between us that seems way too thick with emotion.

“I’ve always liked your name. It’s very… stately.”

“Stately?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“I was named after the color of the hallway that my parents thought would be a good place to get frisky.”

“Get frisky?”

“That’s as much as I want to think about my parents like that.”

“Do you remember your father at all?”

“Not so much. By the time Cyan was born, he was just a memory—and not a very good one. Mom never talked about him. We moved here to get away from her memories more than anything else.”

“He never tried to reach out to any of you?”

“Nope. Not once.”

“That sucks,” Kayla says.

“Maybe for a while it did. Now? It is what it is. Nothing can be done to change it, and it’s sure not something I want to think about when I have my woman all to myself.”

“I like it when you call me your woman.”

“That’s good, because you are. In fact, I think it’s time we invoke the ancient Lucas tradition.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask, though I should warn you if it involves sacrificing virgins, I don’t think I qualify.”

“Shhh! I don’t want to think about the men who came before me.”

“Good Lord, you can’t be serious.”

“Very. It pisses me off that I was stupid enough not to grab you up sooner.”

“White…” Before she can question me further, I stop her with a quick kiss, then pull her up to stand with me.

“It’s time to put our names on the Mighty Oak.”

“You want to carve our names on the tree?”

“Of course. You know yourself. Whenever one of us finds the one they want to keep—or at least think we have—we put our name on the tree.”

“Your name has to be on there a million times.”

“Nope, not once. The Mighty Oak is sacred.”

“Not so sacred. I’m pretty sure Green put Cynthia’s name on there, Petal has Luka, and Cyan… well…”

“Green was an idiot. He doesn’t count. Though, to be fair, he did love that bitch. Petal still loves Luka. I keep hoping they’ll work things out.”

“I do too.”

“Cyan would surprise you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at the five times he’s put his name on the tree,” I tell her, feeling comfortable telling her something only Cyan has ever shared with me. She looks at the tree for a few minutes and then looks back at me confused.

“You know I never noticed it much before, but the girlfriends that Cyan has been crazy about have all had names that begun with the letter A. Is that what you mean? I remember Angela. Ugh, I hated her. Then there was Amy, Alex, and Audrey…”

“Look at the tree though, honey. What do you see?”

“C loves A,” she says. She’s right too. That’s all that’s on the tree and it’s on there about seven times. She’s also right that the only time Cyan even pretends to be a little serious, the girls are all named with the letter A, but they also have blonde hair, wear glasses, and keep their hair pulled away from their face.

“Who else do you know now that Cyan has feelings for that has a name that starts with the letter A?” I prompt her again.

“Alice? Really? But he’s been writing on this tree since he was fifteen.”

“Yep, and all of these girls are blondes with glasses, just like…”

“Oh, wow. I kind of hurt for Cyan. All that unrequited love for all those years. How painful.”

“Look at those names, Buttercup. I don’t think a lot of suffering was involved.”

“But it was. Sex with someone you don’t truly care about? White, it’s just sex,” she says sadly, and something twists inside of me. Maybe once I would have argued with her, but since having Kayla… I’m a believer. What Kayla and I have been doing is better than anything I’ve ever experienced before—and sex is just a small part of that. “Can’t he put away that part of himself to be with Alice? If he loves her that much—”

“You can’t deny what makes you happy for someone else, Buttercup. If you do, you just make everyone miserable,” I tell her and I find myself running my fingers through her hair again. It’s become a habit, one I have no intention of ever stopping. Her face pales and then she looks up at me with such sweet honesty that her eyes seem to reach down inside of me.

“If you truly love someone, the only thing that matters is making them happy.”

“That’s a one-sided love, Buttercup. Selfish in nature.”

“How can it be selfish to give everything you have to someone else?”

“Because in a love like that, you lose yourself,” I tell her, and when a tear unexpectedly falls from the corner of her eye, my thumb automatically swipes it up. “Hey now, what are the tears for?”

“It’s just sad, the way things are… for Cyan, I mean.”

“There’s just times when you have to accept that you can’t make someone else happy, that two of you don’t mesh,” I tell her, pushing these thoughts aside. It’s time to shift the focus from Cyan and Alice and back to the woman who’s slowly invading my heart. “How about we get back to carving our names on the tree?” I ask her, pulling my pocket knife out with a grin.

“You really want to put our names on the tree?” she asks like she doesn’t believe me.

“Absolutely.”

“But you’ve never—”

“I don’t think you get this yet, Kayla, even though it feels like I keep saying it. This thing between you and me has gone beyond the child you want. Hell, it’s gone beyond the deal in general. I’ll say it as many times as you want until you understand this is real. You and me are real, Kayla. I’m playing for keeps here.”

I watch as she takes it in. Her eyes are so expressive, I can see as each word I said hits her.

“Those are strong words,” she whispers.

“I’m prepared to back them up. Starting with putting my name on the tree for the first time,” I tell her, already turning to find a spot.

“Gray and CC added their names on here,” Kayla says, moving her hand over their names.

“Definitely. Gray said they did it on their wedding day. I’ll let you in on a secret.”

“What’s that?”

“Gray told me this is where the twins were conceived. I made him promise not to name one of them Oak or Leaf, though.”

“You boys talk about things like that more than old women,” Kayla chastises with a smile.

“Whatever. I’m just pointing out that the ground is obviously fertile. Maybe we should give it a try. Especially since we destroyed the bed last night.”

“Oh no. That’s not going to happen. With our luck, your entire family is lurking in the woods.”

“Kayla—”

“With cameras,” she adds.

I’d argue with her, but I can’t be completely positive she’s not right, so I let it go and instead concentrate on carving our initials in the tree.

“What do you think?” I ask her when I finish. She doesn’t look at me. She just stares at our initials and the heart that links them. “Your turn,” I urge her when she doesn’t make a move.

“I don’t need to,” she whispers, her fingers tracing over the roughly-hewn heart.

“It’s tradition, Buttercup. We can’t break it,” I answer, feeling a little foolish.

In answer, she takes my hand and pulls me to the side of the tree. I crouch down beside her as she pushes leaves and things away. There, carved in the old Oak right at the base of the tree, are three words that rock me to the core.

Kayla loves White.

CHAPTER 39

WHITE

“Kayla?” I ask, my voice sounding pitifully weak. Honest to God, there are few times in a man’s life that crushes his soul, robbing him of the ability to use words, thoughts, or even make a simple movement. Hell, the ability to function is completely gone now. It’s never happened to me before. Gray said the day CC told him she was having twins, he felt like this. Stupid-ass me thought he was exaggerating.

He wasn’t. If anything, he was understating everything, because I’m frozen solid where I’m standing.

“All those hours you accused me of daydreaming about Green…” she whispers, shaking her head.

“Kayla,” I squeak out again.

“It was never Green. Not since the night my best friend took me to the dance so I wouldn’t have to go alone. Not since that night when I discovered how it felt to be in your arms.”

Fuck. I’ve been a blind bastard.

“Sweetheart,” I whisper.

“White, don’t make—”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Kayla? In all this time, why didn’t you let me know you felt more for me?”

“Because, White. You were too important to risk losing.”

If I didn’t feel stupid before, I definitely do now. There’s this tightness in my heart and it feels like the room is spinning. Kayla loved me. She loved me years ago and I was too fucking stupid to realize it. I almost threw away the best thing in my life, and didn’t even know it. She almost married another man because I was so stupid.

Emotion and words are choking me. I’ve never been the type of man who could quote poetry and shit. There’s so much I want to say to Kayla, but I can’t seem to find the words.

“White?” she whispers. My eyes are drawn to the way her lips move, how that one word falls softly from them and her breath feels like feathers against my chin. I still don’t have the words, but maybe that doesn’t matter as much. Maybe the key in expressing to Kayla just how much I need her is by just showing her.

I pull her up and it’s not my imagination that her breath is coming harder now. Her breasts move with the raggedness of it, as if she knows exactly what’s on my mind. Maybe she does. I whip my shirt over my head and throw it on the ground, bending down to stretch it out as much as I can on the leaves below. Next, I kick off my shoes and continue on until I’m standing before her naked.

“What are you doing?” she asks. I almost don’t answer, because I’m pretty sure it’s self-explanatory, but change my mind at the last minute.

“I’m claiming you.”

My voice is dark, strained, and hoarse, but those three words express everything she needs to know.

CHAPTER 40

KAYLA

My stomach flutters nervously. Claiming me. I feel like Alice and I’ve definitely fallen through the rabbit hole. White is claiming me. My throat goes dry as I travel the length of his body. The man really is living, breathing perfection.

“Take your clothes off, Kayla.”

“White…” I look around nervously. Even though it feels like we’re the only two people in the world at the moment, I know we’re not. We’re out in the open here.

“Now, honey. Either you do, or I will, but if I do it there’s no guarantee there will be anything left for you to wear home,” he warns, and the delectable promise in that causes my body to heat even more.

I undress slowly. I wish I could say I was doing it to entice White further, to tease him, to just play it cool. That’s not the truth, however. I’m doing it because I’m too nervous to move faster. Undressing and showing my body isn’t easy—despite us having had sex before. Or maybe it’s just harder now because it feels different. It feels more exposed. I feel more exposed.

I unbutton my shirt, my eyes going to my fumbling fingers because I know if I look at him, I’ll lose my courage. When it’s open, I pull it from my shoulders. White grunts and then takes the shirt from my hands before I can use it to shield myself. I look up at him in surprise and get lost in the heated blue depths of his eyes.

“Beautiful,” he growls in a voice so dark, it sends chills of need through me. Like I am a puppet and he, the master, I undress until I’m standing before him in nothing but my underwear. I jump when I feel his rough hand move over my shoulder, sliding further down to my arm. I swallow as his hand moves down over my bra, squeezing my breast in his palm lightly before following the curve of my hip.

“I’ve gained weight,” I whisper self-consciously.

He squeezes my hip hard. I look down and watch as the skin turns pink against his hold. The extra flesh and weight I have there somehow looks more feminine in his hold.

“You’re perfect,” he groans, and it’s then that I feel his lips in the valley between my neck and shoulder, kissing first, then raking his teeth against my skin. I don’t even try to stop the gasp that leaves my lips. Instead, I hold my head back to give him better access. He tastes up the side of my neck in small bites that cause my body to quiver with need. I hold onto him, because I feel like my legs are going to give out. “So responsive,” White whispers right before his teeth sink together against the vein along the side of my neck. My body jerks as he sucks against my neck, his tongue stroking the tender flesh.

“White,” I whimper when I feel his hand move down my stomach.

“Mine,” he says. “You’re mine, Kayla. You’ve always been mine.”

Every single time he says the word “mine”, chills move down my spine. He’s whispered these words before, but never with this intensity. His hand moves further down my body. His fingers hook into my panties and with one single pull, the fabric gives, and he tears them from my body. My eyes go down and I watch the worthless fabric fall to the ground. Cool air hits my body as he takes a step back. I’m afraid he’s going to leave me like this—a bundled mess of nerves and need. I look up to beg him not to leave, beg him to keep touching me, for anything, but the words stall when I see the way his cock is standing and stretching towards me. The head is dark in hue and glossy with his own desire. I bite into my lip, wondering how he would react if I drop to my knees right now. I don’t get the chance to find out before he gives me another order.

“The bra, Kayla. Take off the bra.”

My hands tremble as I move the straps off my shoulder. It feels awkward. The movies make this part seem so simple. I’ve taken my bra off a hundred times, but usually it’s from pulling the back clasp around and unhooking it. That seems like the stupidest and most unsexy thing I could do right now. Reaching back seems impossible unless I have a hidden contortionist gene somewhere that I’ve forgotten about. White must see the indecision on my face because he saves me by moving behind me and unhooking the bra. I hold the fabric against my breasts, afraid to move as his lips create a heated path over my back.

“Let go of the bra, Kayla,” he whispers from behind me. I want to, I really do, but I can’t manage it. He must give up on me because he reaches his hands around, cupping my breasts in each of his hands, and gathers the loose material up while trapping the nipples with his fingers. The tight pressure, mixed in with the silky feel of the fabric, causes my body to instantly demand more. I can feel the inside of my thighs grow wet with hunger. My hands go up, reaching behind me so my fingers can dive into the thickness of White’s hair. I feel his cock rubbing against my ass, the head leaving a heated wet path against the cheek. The heat of his body swamps me, making me feel deliciously wicked and needy all at the same time. “Put your hands against the tree and brace yourself, Kayla,” White orders.

I do it, barely able to hear the leaves crunching around us over the pounding of need in my ears. He maneuvers my body exactly the way he wants me. My fingers bite into the hard bark of the tree. My toes curl into our pile of clothes he arranged under us. I’m doing my best to remember to breathe when I feel his cock slide against my ass, dipping into the valley between my cheeks, pushing against the entrance. My body tightens, wondering exactly what he’s going to do.

“Soon,” he whispers, as if he’s reading my mind—and he probably is. The idea of White taking me like that, of him stretching me someplace that seems so forbidden, terrifies and excites me all at the same time. Before I can think more about it, or even question him, I feel the head of his cock slide around, and the tip pushes into my entrance. That’s it. Just the tip. I try to push back, wanting more, but he stops me by a firm hold on my hip.

“Please,” I beg, and I am begging. The one word is so needy, the voice doesn’t even sound like my own. My heart is threatening to pound out of my chest. I feel his hand wrap my hair around and around it. He yanks, pulling my head back, and I gasp at the pain.

“I got you, Kayla. I got you,” he whispers just as his cock plunges inside of me.

CHAPTER 41

WHITE

I’m losing myself inside her. The way we fit together is beyond anything I’ve experienced before. It’s more than physical, though the physical is fucking amazing. As I give myself over to my climax, allowing myself to go over the edge just as Kayla does, I hear her cry out my name.

“White. Don’t stop, never stop.”

“Never, sweetheart. Never,” I breathe, emptying myself inside of her. I find my hand in her hair again—touching it, wrapping my hand in it as if I have to stay connected to her like that. As we ride out our orgasm together, I welcome air into my lungs, air that is a combined scent of strawberries that will always be Kayla to me—and sex. I take it into my lungs and as it moves through my body, one fact settles into me: I’ll never be able to separate where I begin and she ends. She’s a part of me. The best part.

When she’s taken everything I have, I can’t bring myself to leave her. Instead, I keep us connected, slowly opening my eyes and finding myself staring straight at our initials I had carved earlier. The heart mocks me. I should have written the word love. I chickened out like a dumbass.

“White?”

“Shhh… don’t move.”

“I don’t want to, but…”

“But?”

“Shouldn’t we… get dressed?”

“Soon. Right now, I want to just stay inside of you, hold you like this, feeling your body against mine and remember.”

“Remember?”

“Remember the moment I put my child inside of you.”

“White. There’s no way of knowing—”

“I know. It was too special not to have happened, honey.”

“What if it didn’t?”

“It did.”

“But… if it didn’t?” she asks, and I press a kiss against the back of her neck before moving my mouth to her ear. I run my tongue along the shell, then suck the lobe into my mouth, teasing it with my tongue.

“It did. But if for some reason it didn’t, we’ll just keep trying,” I tell her once I release her ear. She doesn’t say anything else and I can’t tell you how long we stay like that, but eventually we do break apart and I help her get dressed before doing the same. We hold hands back to the side-by-side and I help her into it and latch her seatbelt. As I start to pull away, she touches the side of my face, stopping me.

“You’re an amazing man, White Hall Lucas,” she says with such conviction it almost makes me ashamed of the man I’ve been. A better man would have known that Kayla was in love with him. A better man would have seen how special she was ages ago. I vow I will be better though. I’ll be the man she deserves.

A better man for her and our child.

CHAPTER 42

KAYLA

The problem with living a lie is that it taints everything with sadness, even when you are living a dream you have wanted your whole life. A sadness so deep you feel it with each beat of your heart. We’ve been back to Dallas for two months now. The only dark spot in this dream-turned-reality is that White’s arm still hasn’t healed. He hasn’t talked about it, but I know he has to realize it is looking more and more likely that he will never play football again. Well, that and the fact that I’m lying to him daily. The taste of the lie is bitter, but I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t know how to come clean. I’m afraid to mess up what we have. I’m afraid. That’s it. I’m just afraid. I’ve been in love with White for so long, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t survive losing him. I loved him before. Now? I don’t think the word “love” can sum up how I feel. That’s why today is a shit day all the way around.

I knew I couldn’t be pregnant, even though the day at the old Oak tree seemed magical and a space out of time. I’m on the pill. I’m on the pill because I know in my heart and from things White has said that he doesn’t want a child. To force that on him is something I can’t do. So I don’t regret staying on the pill. But today, after being a month late, when I begin bleeding it’s such a disappointment that I cry. I lay in the bed with huge sloppy tears running down my face, hugging my pillow and wishing things could be different.

“Buttercup? I saw your car in the parking lot when I came back from the doctor’s office. Didn’t you have a meeting today?” White calls out.

Hearing his voice, hearing the worry in it, just makes me feel more miserable and I cry harder. I’m actually crying so hard, I can’t even tell when White comes into the room. I just feel the bed depress when he sits on it and a minute later, I’m hauled up into his lap and in his arms.

“Kayla? Honey talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“I’m in pain,” I tell him, which isn’t a lie. I am in pain. I don’t want to keep this from him anymore. I want to be able to talk to him about the fears that I have. How I’m afraid he will regret giving me a child. Or the fear that when he finds someone he could truly love, how it will feel to be tied to him by a child that he didn’t want while watching him have a family with the woman he chose freely. I can’t tell him all of that, however, and that just makes the tears fall faster.

White rocks me back and forth, his fingers crushing through my hair and pulling it from my face.

“Shhh… I’ve got you, Kayla. I’m right here. Whatever is going on, I’ll take care of it, honey. Just talk to me.” He repeats that a couple of times before I finally force myself to take a shuddering breath.

“I started my period.” I cry like a baby, letting White comfort me, when I should tell him the truth.

“Oh, honey. I’m sorry. This is all my fault for getting your hopes up that day by the tree. I know this is a setback for you, but it will happen, honey. We just have to try harder,” he says, and even through my tears, I hear disappointment in his voice. That doesn’t make sense, though. I have to have imagined it. I take another breath and try to get my tears under control.

“This isn’t your fault, White. None of this is. This is all on me,” I tell him, crying to dry up my tears. White reaches over and finds the tissues on my nightstand and offers them to me. I grab a couple and dab at my eyes, trying to get my emotions under control.

“It is my fault. I had to be all ego and tell you I was sure you would be pregnant. I’m an idiot. I don’t want you to get discouraged, though. You want a baby and I’m going to make sure you get it.”

You want a baby. I’m going to make sure you get it.  The words replay. The way he said them, the choices he made. It’s all so clear. It hurts like hell.

“White. I think we should talk,” I start, because I can’t do this anymore. The more I’m with him, the longer we’re together, I know it will destroy me when he leaves. I can’t keep going on like this.

“I do too,” he says and that weight in my stomach feels like it weighs a million pounds.

“You do?” I ask, shocked but resigned. It’s best to get it all out now. We can still be friends. I just need to adapt to being on the sidelines of his life.

“I know we discussed it before and decided against it, but I really think it’s time we see a specialist.”

“A specialist?” I ask, confused.

“Yeah. I mean, you were tested once before, you said, when you were thinking of marrying that loser.”

“Tommy—”

“Never say his name. Anyway, I haven’t been tested and I really think I should.”

“White, that’s not necessary. In fact, I have something I need to talk with you about.”

“It is necessary. I need to know.”

“But…”

“I’m doing this, Kayla. In fact, I already have.”

“You… what?”

“I made an appointment with one of the leading fertility doctors in the state. If there’s something wrong with my swimmers, we’ll know by this time next week.”

“White. You should have talked to me about this. I need to tell you—”

“You don’t need to do anything other than go to the doctor with me and be there for moral support.”

I really should argue further. The words don’t seem to want to come though.

“It could be me, you know,” I tell him, the guilt filling my voice. “It may be nothing you’re doing that’s causing me not to be pregnant. It could all be me.”

I’m lame. The words I’m giving him are lame.

“Well, you have at least been tested before. I haven’t. So let’s start with me and we can face whatever needs to be done next together.”

“White, I really don’t think—”

“We’re doing this, Kayla, end of discussion.”

That’s when I know I truly am weak, because I don’t argue further. I let White settle us on the bed. I let him rub on my stomach and feed me chocolate and tell me outrageous stories about his brother Cyan. I soak it all up even as the guilt is eating me alive. What I don’t do is tell White the truth.

I’m a horrible person. I agree to let my best friend-turned-lover get his sperm tested, knowing there’s no reason to. Worse. I let my best friend-turned-lover think he might be impotent rather than tell him I’m on the pill.

I’m weak.

CHAPTER 43

WHITE

“Right this way, Mr. Lucas,” the nurse calls as she leads me down a small hallway off of the doctor’s office. I look over to make sure Kayla is beside me, then reach out and grab her hand. She doesn’t look at me. She’s looking at the small plastic cup I’m holding that the doctor referred to as a specimen container—if that isn’t a mood killer in and of itself. I squeeze her hand reassuringly, more for my benefit than hers. I wanted to give Kayla a baby. She wants that more than anything and I find I want to be the man who makes all her dreams come true. So I’m doing this shit, but it doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.

“Mrs. Lucas, you can sit here in the waiting area. Mr. Lucas, you will be in room 1A.”

I look at the door that has a metal plaque above it that says 1A. That’s it. I guess in my head I thought it would read Jacking-Off Area. They could at least make it fun. Call it the Snake Charming Room, Splooge Collection Chamber… something.

“I’ll be back,” I tell Kayla in my best Arnold Schwarzenegger voice. She gives me the smile that I wanted to see, so I wink at her and then follow the nurse to the room.

“There’s magazines and a computer in there to, umm… help if you find you need it.”

“Help?” I ask rather stupidly.

The nurse doesn’t respond, unless you count the blush she’s wearing. I step in and she closes the door behind me. I look around the small room. For some reason, I feel like I might have walked on the small set of a porn movie—or at least the fluffer room. That thought comes when I see the stack of adult magazines. I thumb through them, totally unimpressed. These were the kind of things my brothers and I hoarded when we were young, but it’s definitely not something I’m going to stroke my dick to now. All I can think about when I look at them now is how their breasts look incredibly fake and lacking compared to Kayla’s. Kayla’s are large and just right to wrap my dick inside of and ride hard, not being afraid I would hurt her.

I walk towards the small computer and tap the keyboard. I immediately feel like some kind of under-sexed, over-hormoned loser who lives in his mother’s basement because the fucking thing is sticky. The screen lights up and there are several desktop icons that lead you to various porn. Threesomes, submissive partners, dominating, big breasts, virgin asses—there’s something there for everyone. I click on one out of curiosity, watching as a woman appears on the screen. She’s on all fours in the middle of a big bed, reaching back to spank her ass, begging me (or whoever) to cum all over it. She’s not that pretty. Her breasts are a little too saggy, and my dick just lies there, even as she starts squeezing her own breasts and begging for cum.

This may be a long day…

CHAPTER 44

KAYLA

White has been in that room for fifteen minutes. If you can die from an overdose of shame and nerves, I’m right at the edge of that point. I’m sitting in this damn chair ringing my hands, torn between rushing in and telling White the truth and running away completely. Will he hate me when he finds out the truth? Will he understand why I did it? Can I survive losing him?

There are so many questions literally swirling in my head that I don’t notice when White comes out—not until he’s standing in front of me pulling at my hands to lift me out of the chair.

“Are you finished already? That was really quick. I mean, you’re not normally that fast. Though I suppose this is a little different—”

“Let’s go,” White mumbles and I stumble, trying to follow him as he holds my hand and then uses it to pull me where he wants me.

“Wait? Where are we going? The exit is that way. White?” I question again as he leads me to the room he was in. He doesn’t talk again until he has me in there and the door closes behind us. I look around the tight space that’s dimly lit with a frown. “Why did you bring me in here?”

“There’s no hope in hell of this working if you aren’t here, Kayla.”

“What? Why? What are you talking about?”

“Do you see this crap?” he asks, holding up a magazine of women with fake breasts and very little, if any, clothing.

“Yeah?” I ask, confused, not sure what he’s getting at.

“There’s no way I’m going to be able to get the doctor a sample in here, Kayla.”

“Oh. Well, that’s okay. I think we should talk about that. This really isn’t necessary, White. I need to talk to you about everything, actually—”

“It is necessary. Which means you’re going to have to step up here, Buttercup.”

“I am?”

“Yeah. It’s the only way this is going to work.”

“I’m not sure I understand. Exactly what is it you think I should do? Get tested?”

“You have to make me come.”

“Um… what?”

“The only way any of my soldiers are going to swim in that damn cup is if you get them out of hiding.”

“I don’t think… I mean, I’m pretty sure I’m not even supposed to be in here.”

“Well, you are. And that’s the only way this is going to work.”

“You want me to… jack you off?” I ask, still not exactly sure what White’s thinking and feeling like a pervert for being a little turned on by the fact that he thinks he needs me to make him come. I always figured something like that was automatic for a man.

“Well, that’d be the most straightforward approach, I guess. Or maybe I could while you get me in the mood.”

“Get you in the mood?”

“Take your top off,” he orders while he unzips his pants. My eyes might pop out of my head as he pushes his pants and briefs down and takes his cock in his hand in quick, efficient movements. He’s not even taking a breath. It’s like we’re in our private bedroom. Not a doctor’s office. Oh my God! Do they have cameras here? Are they going to come in here and having me escorted out at any moment? Crap, what will they do if they catch me in here while White is—??

“White! Stop that.”

“If I stop, we won’t get out of here, and this may have been my idea, Kayla, but I want out of here.”

“Then let’s just go. I’m telling you that you don’t need to do this. There are things we need to talk about anyway.”

“Quit stalling, Kay. Let me see your boobs.”

“My… I don’t think I’m supposed to be in here, White.”

“They want me to come in a jar. For that to happen, you have to be in here. Now quit stalling and show me those tits.”

“You’re so sweet,” I grumble, looking up at the ceiling and around the room.

“What are you doing?”

“Seeing if there are any cameras in here.”

“You’re so cute. Fuck. Now strip,” he orders, and if I hadn’t picked that moment to turn and look at him, I might have resisted. But I did pick that moment to look, and having White order me to strip causes chills of need to run through me. When I see him with his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it, I’m done for. There’s not a woman around who could resist him.

I sigh in defeat, put my purse down on an office chair beside me, and pull my shirt over my head.

“If we get in trouble for breaking the rules, I’m never going to forgive you.”

“Noted, honey. Now as much as I love that purple bra, take it off.”

“Christ, in all these years, how did I not know you were a lunatic?” I huff, unlatching my bra and thankful that at least this time, there’s a front clasp. “There! Satisfied now?”

“Pinch your nipples.”

“White…”

“Play with your nipples for me, Buttercup. Better yet, hold your breast for me.”

“Hold it? Like this?” I ask, holding my hands under them, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited at the moment. I can feel my panties getting wet just from the way he’s watching my breasts. My eyes go to his cock and I watch his firm hand stroke back and forth on it. It’s a mesmerizing movement, one that I think if I watched for a thousand years, I still wouldn’t get tired of. When I feel his lips suck one of my nipples into his wet, hot mouth, I gasp both in surprise and at the delicious beauty of it. My fingers go to his hair to hold his lips closer, forgetting where we are, forgetting everything but White.

“You like that, Buttercup?” he groans once he lets go of my nipple and then starts paying the same attention to the other one.

“God, yes.”

“Damn it. Every time I’m with you, I think I will get used to how you taste and react, but it never fails to surprise me,” he groans, sucking as much of my breast as he can into his mouth. I hold onto him as he plays, sucking the nipple, biting on my breast and making me feel like I could come at any minute.

“Is that a bad thing?” I gasp as he bites hard into the tender globe of my breast. There will be teeth marks and bruises there. I’ve had them every morning since we’ve been sleeping with each other, and I love them. I wake up to inspect my body, only feeling relief and happiness when I find proof of White’s ownership. I belong to him. His marks make me believe that’s what he wants as much as I do.

“It’s not enough. This isn’t going to work,” he growls, letting go of my breast. He pushes the magazines onto the floor in a pile of glossy tits and ass on pages that look well-worn. I try not to think of that particular aspect and instead focus on the fact that White wanted me over the magazines. Silly? Probably, but I don’t care. It feels like a victory all the same—at least until I listen to his words.

“White?”

He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he is shaking his head. “Not enough room there,” he grumbles, looking at the table he knocked the magazines off of.

“What are you talking about?”

He doesn’t answer, he’s so deep in thought that I’m not sure he hears me. Then he looks at the little computer nook and smiles. Before I can question him, he lifts me up.

“White! Put me down! I’m too heavy!” I cry, holding onto his shoulders as he sets me on the computer desk. It’s not exactly comfortable. There’s a keyboard pressing into my thigh. I look at him like he’s insane. It should be a look he is familiar with these days. “What are you doing??”

“Spanking your ass if you don’t quit insinuating you’re fat. I told you, I fucking love your body.”

“White—Oh my God! What are you doing now?” I literally screech as he reaches under my skirt and yanks off my panties, pushing them down to the floor. I watch them fall and wince because they look really big there. Did I really wear granny-panties today only to have sex in a doctor’s exam area? Maybe White won’t notice…

“What the hell are these things?” he growls, and I look to find him staring at my panties too.

“They’re underwear,” I tell him with heated cheeks.

“No, they aren’t.”

“Yes, they are. They’re the proper kind you wear to a doctor’s office, or when you’re going on a long trip.”

“A long trip?”

“Yeah. In case you get in a car accident. You don’t want the paramedics to find you not wearing any and you’d rather not have them look at your sexy panties and think you’re a whore, so you wear…”

“Granny panties.”

“They’re not granny panties,” I defend, lying through my teeth.

“You’re wound up entirely too tight, Buttercup. Damn, if I’m not going to have fun unwinding you…”

“Unwinding me? You mean by convincing me to have sex in a doctor’s office with people right outside the door?”

“Among other things. But if it makes you feel better, this won’t last long, and then you can pull your skirt down and be a proper lady—at least ‘til I get you home.”

“What won’t last long?” I ask him, but I really shouldn’t have because the minute I feel his fingers push inside of me, I know exactly what he’s talking about.

“God, you’re so wet and ready,” he groans. Hell, maybe I’m the one groaning as his fingers plunge inside, scissor apart and stretch me, before receding, only to plunge right back in. It just takes two or three strokes like this before I hear his fingers push in against the sticky wetness of my pussy. His fingers are big and wide and when he pulls them apart, it feels full, but it’s nowhere near to the sensation I get when his dick is inside of me, and right now that’s what I’m craving above all things—even though I know I can’t have it.

“White, make me come,” I whisper as he pushes his fingers back inside, this time adding his thumb to my clit, pushing against it while stroking it at the same time.

“I plan on it, honey. All over my cock.”

“But you can’t! You have to save it to—”

“I’ll pull out in time to capture enough for the doctor,” he tells me, and I want to argue. I want to tell him that the lab might pick up traces of my cream and it might cause his tests to be wrong. All thought stops though the minute he pulls me to the edge of the little desk, and then pushes inside of me with his hard cock.

CHAPTER 45

WHITE

“Fuck, Kayla. You have a magic pussy,” I groan, when I finally get inside of her. I hear her laugh and happiness clicks inside of me. Making Kayla laugh daily has become a goal of mine. Making her lose herself in the way we fit together—and having fun while doing it—is a necessity. I don’t know who the fuck has made her so self-conscious about her body, but when I find out, I’m going to kill the bastard. She’s beautiful and wears it effortlessly, but she doesn’t realize it at all.

“Have I told you that you’re crazy?” she whispers, wrapping her arms around my shoulders while her legs cling to my hips, pulling me in closer.

I reach under her knees and pull her up, scooting her in as much as I can. It doesn’t matter what I do, she’ll never be close enough. With Kayla, I always want more.

“You like my kind of crazy,” I groan as I thrust back inside of her, riding her hard and fast.

“Shut up and fuck me,” she whispers as her nails bite into my shoulders. That’s my wildcat: shy and timid, but honest enough to give into the passion we have with each other. God, I was so stupid to have not seen her sooner, to not know what I could have with her.

“In a hurry, honey?”

“I’m trying to ignore that this keyboard I’m sitting on is sticky,” she mutters, biting into my chest. The little sting of pain spurs me on almost as much as her words.

“I’ll make sure to take you home and fuck you in the shower next,” I moan, or at least I think I do. I can’t be sure. I’m getting close and I’m too busy mourning the fact that I have to pull out and leave her warm body. I’m not about to leave her until she’s done, however. I reach down between us, using my finger to find her clit, then push and rub against it while I’m thrusting into her. She’s like live fireworks in my arms. She goes off in a hundred directions, crying out my name loudly, her body vibrating around me and squeezing my cock so hard that it takes all I have not to follow her.

I stay inside until the last minute possible. I pull my cock out and feel a sense of pride when I see her cream covering it. If we had time, I’d make her suck it off. I resist—barely. Her hands slam down on the table as if she’s afraid she might fall, now that I’m not there to lean on.

“Keep those legs open, Kayla. I want to see that pussy when I come,” I order her, not recognizing my own voice. She obeys, and I wonder exactly how this is going to work as I grab the cup while wishing I could somehow come all over her body at the same time. It’s almost enough to make me cool off, unable to come. Then Kayla does something unexpected. She reaches down, moving her fingers over her clit, slowly sliding two fingers apart to separate her pussy for me. Sweet Jesus.

One stroke. Two.

“I miss you inside of me, White,” she whispers like a siren, calling to me. This woman could easily be my destruction. Her fingers push inside her tight channel and that’s it. I grab the fucking cup and stroke again. I’m done for. Which is a good thing because just as I start to unload, moans fill the room.

My eyes tear away from Kayla to the source. On the computer screen behind her is a woman naked, her legs spread similarly to Kayla’s—the view nowhere near as good. She’s moaning and licking around a giant purple… eggplant? I’ve not watched a lot of porn, and since I became old enough to discover the real thing, I rarely watch it. Nothing you see on the television could get close to the pleasure I can find inside a woman. Since I met Kayla, I haven’t even thought about it. So, I know what’s she going to do, because well, it’s porn. But, Kayla apparently is not as prepared.

“What’s she going to do with a zucchini?” Kayla asks.

“I thought that was an eggplant,” I say inanely as I try to get the damn cup closed. Very little made it into the cup. I actually seem to have splattered more on the desk and Kayla’s leg. Guess that explains why the keyboard is sticky.

“She can’t be. Oh, gross. That can’t be sanitary!” Kayla cries.

“Get dressed, honey, and let’s get out of here.”

“Is that other chick going to put an eggplant inside of her, too?” she cries, her eyes glued to the screen now. Sure enough, there’s a second woman now inserting what is apparently an eggplant in the first woman, right alongside the zucchini. Eggplants are purple. Interesting. They’re also much wider. “Oh, that’s gonna hurt,” Kayla says, and well, I have to agree with her. I reach over and click off the screen just as the woman starts crying like an abandoned calf. It was probably supposed to sound sexy, but my balls are slowly receding up inside of me. If I ever want to have sex again, that has got to go.

“I may never look at vegetables and fruits in the same way again,” Kayla mourns.

“Get dressed and I’ll take you home and fuck the memory out of your brain,” I say with a grin, hoping to God the image doesn’t come back and ruin my plans.

“You got messy,” she grumbles, looking at her leg. I reach down and grab those god-awful panties she had been wearing and dry her off, as well as wipe up the outside of the cup. “White! Those are my panties! What am I supposed to wear now?”

“Not these. In fact, never these. When we get home, I’m going to personally destroy every pair of these you own.”

“Oh, shut up. They’re not that bad. They’re perfectly respectable for public viewing.”

“Public viewing? Like a corpse at a funeral? See, Buttercup? You should never, ever describe panties like that. They’re gone.”

“God, you’re an ass. What am I supposed to wear out of here now?”

“Your skirt. Be nice to me and I’ll play with your pussy on the ride home. Easier access,” I tell her with a leer.

“You want me to go around in public—at a doctor’s office no less—without panties??”

“That about sums it up.” I take the panties and throw them in the trash. Before I completely let go of them, however, she yanks them out of my hand.

“Don’t throw them out here! Everyone will see them! I’ll just have to wear them. Maybe I can turn them inside out or something.”

I grab them back from her and stuff them in the pocket of my jeans. It’s not easy because damn, they really are granny panties.

“There’s no way these are going back on you.”

“White!”

“If you don’t hurry, I’m taking your bra away too.”

“You’re such an asshole!” she grumbles, getting dressed.

Maybe I need to start spanking her ass more…

CHAPTER 46

KAYLA

“What are you doing?”

“Dying,” I groan to White as he comes in the bedroom door. I’m sitting on the bed with my head near a vaporizer, hoping the mint somehow fulfills the magic promises that the box says and unstops my head, which now feels like it weighs a million pounds.

“Oh, you are not,” White chastises, taking the vaporizer and putting it in the floor. He gets on the bed and pulls me over so I can rest my head on his stomach. If I could breathe, it’d be great. I close my eyes and concentrate on the way his hands move through my hair. “Should I take you to the doctor?”

“I already went today. Sinus infection. He gave me some antibiotics and nose spray.”

“Did it help?”

“Too early to know about the antibiotic, but the nose spray didn’t help, and I hate it. There’s something you should know about me, White.”

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

“I’d make a very bad druggie. Under no circumstance should things be squirted up your nose.”

“I see.”

“I’m serious,” I whine.

“I’ll take note. What can I do to help you?”

“Go away and let me die in peace.”

“Seems like we’ve been here before,” he says and I can hear the laughter in his voice. If it wasn’t for feeling like I was on death’s door, I’d probably sock him in the stomach or maybe lower. “How about I make you some chicken soup and we curl up and watch a movie the rest of the night? It can be one of your chick flicks if you want. I’ll suffer through it like the good boyfriend that I am.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“My boyfriend?”

“Well, I’m a little too old to be considered a boy, I guess, but for lack of a better word, it will have to do.”

“So we’re going steady? That’s swell.”

“You may feel bad, but you’re still smart-mouthed.”

“It’s a gift. Let’s watch The Rock.”

“A man insecure in his manhood would be bothered by your obsession with him.”

“Good thing that’s not you, right?”

“Good thing. Maybe you need to be reminded that you have the only man you need in your bed. One, I might add, who stays rock hard whenever you’re around.”

“Um… I’m sick. Sex sounds gross.”

“I’ll make you change your mind,” he responds, and as bad as I feel, I’m almost tempted…

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Sure it is, and as a reward, I’ll let you keep your legs up in the air afterwards for fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen? What for?”

“We’ll put a pillow under you and hold your lower body up at an angle so my little soldiers are sure to barricade themselves in your sweet little pussy.”

“You’re insane.”

“But I’m amazing in bed, so it averages out,” he says with a grin, his hand moving under my shirt to gently rub my stomach.

“I’m just not in the mood.”

“We’ll see what I can do to change that,” he says, and I would have thought it was impossible, but despite how bad I feel, White proceeds to prove me wrong.

CHAPTER 47

WHITE

“Hello, White.”

Rachel, Kayla’s sister. My stomach curls at the sound of her voice on the other line. I’m not sure why she’s calling, but I’m sure nothing good can come from it.

“Kayla’s not here.”

“Well, I know that silly. I called your apartment, not Kayla’s. I was hoping you and I could meet up this weekend. I’d like to catch up with you if I can. It’s been too long.”

“Sorry, I can’t. Kayla and I are headed out of town this weekend.”

“You’re going out of town with Kayla? I know you guys are best friends, but aren’t you spending a little too much time with my sister? I mean, it’s sweet of you and all to watch out for her, but…”

“Kayla and I are dating. We have been for a while now,” I tell her cutting her off.

“You’re dating?”

“Yes. Seriously. She lives here now.” Okay, I might have embellished a little. Technically Kayla doesn’t live here, but she is here most of the time, and the days she’s not, I’m at her place. I think that’s close enough.

“Kayla moved in with you?” Rachel asks, and the tone of her voice, for some reason, sends chills down my spine. “You and Kayla are living together?”

“Yes. Don’t sound so surprised. Kayla and I have always been really close.”

“I guess so. I just can’t figure out why she’s never mentioned it.”

“You two have always been pretty distant with each other,” I defend, but I must admit that I wish Kayla had said something, too. Who am I kidding? I want her to shout it out to everyone that she’s my woman.

“I guess so. I’m just finding it hard to believe that White Lucas, professional football player, the man who stars in a million wet dreams by every woman who breathes, could settle for someone like my sister.”

“What do you mean??” I ask her, warning bells ringing. Why do I feel like I might have just found the source of Kayla’s insecurities about her body right here?

“Come on, White. You can’t tell me, of all the women who throw themselves at your feet, you prefer someone like Kayla.”

“Someone like Kayla?”

“Yes! I mean, would it kill her to go to a gym once in a while? Still, she does have a sweet personality, and I suppose men can like that kind of thing. I just expected you with someone sexier, someone who would fit into your world and make life easier for you.”

“Someone like you, you mean?”

“Well, we did have quite a night together back—”

“I was drunk off my ass or I never would have crashed at your place, Rachel. Listen, I have to go. Kayla and I have plans this evening.”

“Oh, of course. Though, I would like to meet with you and discuss a few things. It’s rather important.”

“What could we possibly have to talk about?”

“I’d rather not get into it over the phone. I’ll be in town next week. I was hoping I could come by. I could fix you dinner and we could talk.”

“I don’t think there’s anything we need to say to each other. However, if you come into town, as my fiancée’s sister, I’d be glad to take you and Kayla out to dinner.”

“Your fiancée??”

“Of course, that’s if Kayla wants to go to dinner with you. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get back to her,” I add, hanging up the phone and barely resisting throwing it across the room.

“Your fiancée??” This comes from Kayla instead of Rachel now, and I turn around to look at her. For some reason, I feel defensive.

“Definitely.”

“I thought this was—”

“I’ve told you and told you that what we’ve been doing isn’t temporary, Kayla.”

“Did you seriously just tell me we’re getting married? Actually, scratch that. Did you seriously just tell my sister that we were getting married before you even mentioned it to me?”

“What’s the point of telling you? You wouldn’t believe me, anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Sweetheart, you’ve spent half our relationship justifying in your mind why I’m sleeping with you and how I feel about you.”

“I haven’t said—”

“You don’t have to. It’s there in every reaction you have, in the way you are with me, everything.”

“Well, if it annoys you, maybe—”

“Stop it, Kayla.”

“What? I’m just saying that if—”

“You annoy me. You infuriate me. You also make me laugh. You make me happy. You make a bad day better. You give me purpose. You give me peace and you also—”

“White,” she whispers, her eyes overly bright.

“You also love me.”

“I…”

“And that’s great. In fact, it’s fucking awesome.”

“It is?” she asks, her voice strained, her face pale.

“It is. Because I love you.”

“White, you don’t have to say anything. I know you love me. We’ve been friends all of our lives.”

“Not as a friend, Kayla. Though I do love you like that too.”

“You love me,” she whispers, and she doesn’t say it like a question. Tears are slowly streaming from her eyes. I move into her, trying to catch them before they fall, but it’s useless.

“I love you,” I reassure her, close to panic. I never imagined that the first time I told a woman I loved her, she’d be crying.

“You love me,” she repeats.

“That’s not supposed to make you cry.”

“Why?” she asks, crying harder.

“Why what?” I respond, thoroughly confused.

“Why do you love me?”

“Sweetheart, what do you think we’ve been doing here?”

“Here?”

“Together.”

“I don’t know!” she cries like she’s completely lost. My heart squeezes, and by that, I mean I can physically feel the pain.

“You don’t know?” I’m not sure how to respond to that.

“I just figured I’d enjoy the ride however long it lasted.”

“However long it lasted? Are you nuts?”

“You agreed to this to help me get a child. You don’t even want kids. We’ve been friends all of our lives, but I’m not delusional.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I’m not the kind of girl you normally go for, White.”

“What do you mean, kind?”

“Exactly that. I can’t hold a candle to the women you usually date. I knew going in that this was just temporary.”

“Wait. Hold up. Why in the fuck would you even compare yourself to anyone, Kayla? Jesus Fucking Christ! Don’t you get it?”

“Get what?”

“You aren’t like those other women. Fuck, I’ve never given my heart to anyone before.”

“But…”

“Sweetheart, you’re beautiful. You’re so gorgeous, you take my breath away. From the color of your hair, to your eyes, the way your smile lights up an entire room, all the way to how your body curves and feels against me, every single bit of it turns me on more than I’ve ever been turned on in my life.”

“You don’t have to say that. I know that I’m fat. I don’t have any delusions about what stares back at me in the mirror.”

“Then maybe you need a new fucking mirror. Jesus, Kayla. Who did this shit to you? Who made you feel as if you didn’t measure up? Who in the hell convinced you that the woman I’m looking at isn’t the most beautiful person in the world? ‘Cause I’ve got to tell you, baby, you are. You take my breath away. I’m not telling you that for any other reason than it is one hundred percent the truth. I love you.”

“White…”

“This can’t work if you don’t start believing in what we have, Kayla. I can fight, sweetheart. For you, I will fight until I don’t have breath in my body any longer. I’ll do it, because what I’ve had with you these past months is a million times better than anything I’ve ever experienced, or expected. But I can’t fight alone. I can’t knock out your demons, Kayla. Especially if I don’t know what they are or who put them there.”

“You love me,” she whispers.

“So much, it hurts.”

“I’m scared, White.”

“There’s no need to be, sweetheart. I’m right here and I have no intention of ever leaving.”

CHAPTER 48

KAYLA

He’s completely serious. It’s there in his eyes, in the way he’s holding himself, and even though he’s blurry from the tears in my eyes, I can tell that. In my head I just keep hearing over and over: my fiancée.

I’ve spent so long thinking this was just temporary, that soon I’d wake up and White will have realized he made a mistake and everything would just blow up. I have been preparing myself for it, even preparing to lose White completely. Never in a million years would I have thought I’d be standing before the man I’ve always loved and hearing him tell me that he loves me. That he wants me… forever.

“How did we get here?” I whisper, more to myself than to White. I feel his fingers comb through my hair and I force my eyes up to his.

“As far as I’m concerned, it took us too fucking long to get here.”

“It did,” I agree. “It really did.”

“No more running, Kayla. No more fighting it, honey. This is it.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask me that and, instead, show you some of the reasons you and I are meant to be.”

“Meant to be? That doesn’t sound hokey at all,” I try and joke through the tears that are slowly drying as happiness begins to envelope me.

“Always a smart ass,” he chides, picking me up in his arms and walking me through the room. He doesn’t stop until we get to the bedroom and he places me gently on the bed.

I sit up immediately, my eyes glued to him as he pulls the shirt he’s wearing over his head.

“Your turn,” he prompts.

“White, there’s something I think I should tell you. Something I did that you should know. I think it would be best if we—”

I break off as the phone rings. We both turn to look at it in unison. White looks back at me with a smile.

“Hold that thought, Buttercup,” he says, picking up the cordless receiver. He looks at the caller ID and glances back at me. “It’s mom. With perfect timing, as usual.”

I force a smile. My stomach is a nervous mess. I was just about to confess to White that I was still taking birth control. I wanted to tell him that I’d been crazy, that I was afraid to trust him, and that finally I’m believing in what we have. I know he might be upset with me, maybe even disappointed, but I want to get it out there and move forward.

I can’t believe he just told my sister I’m his fiancée! My heart is almost beating out of my chest. It’s like having a dream your entire life and, by some miracle, it’s actually happening. Not much in my life has worked out, with the exception of being taken under Ida Sue’s wing. Memories of the contempt my stepfather had for me, of the way he left me behind, has colored my entire life. I tried so hard to be like Rachel, to do the things she said he expected of me, but nothing worked, and as hard as I tried not to take that internally, I know that I failed. There’s always a part of me that feels not good enough, not pretty enough. Not enough, period.

“Kayla! Buttercup! Did you hear me?!”

I jerk around to look at White, who is busy pulling his shirt back on and looking around the room. “What?” I ask, confused.

“I said CC is in labor! We have to get down to mom’s—well, the hospital, really. We don’t want to miss the birth of my two nephews!”

“Oh, wow. She’s in labor? I thought they chose not to know what they’re having,” I point out, my stomach feeling funny. Whether it is from the thought of White not knowing I’m still on birth control, how excited he is about seeing Gray’s children, or sadness that I’m not having a child, I can’t begin to decipher.

“Gray says they’ll be boys. Only the doctor knows. CC forbid them to tell anyone. The doctors did warn them that first-time pregnancies can take forever to deliver, but you know CC, and apparently the babies are demanding to come out now, so we’ve got to get a move on,” White says, pulling me off the bed. He’s smiling from ear to ear and he seems so happy. That queasiness in my stomach only intensifies.

“We better get going, then,” I tell him, and I do my best to smile.

“Hey. Are you okay?” White asks, concerned. I guess I didn’t quite achieve the smile I wanted.

“I’m fine. I just can’t believe that CC is in labor,” I tell him, which isn’t exactly a lie—at least not a full one.

“I know, but she’s not that early. The babies are fine. It’s going to go great, you’ll see. And pretty soon, it will be you and me getting ready to welcome our child into the world.”

“You really want that,” I whisper, and it’s not a question, because for the first time, I see the truth shining in his blue eyes.

“More than I could tell you, Buttercup. It’s going to happen. Someday soon, I’ll see your stomach stretched with our child. I’ll be able to feel him kick in your belly and know that the most beautiful part of the two of us is alive and growing, and getting stronger. You’re going to be an amazing mother, Kayla.”

That sick feeling in my stomach intensifies. Guilt feels as if it is churning so thick, it might eat me alive. I’ve been so wrong. Now would be the time to tell him the truth. Now would be the time to confess everything to White and beg him to understand. I find I can’t. My tongue refuses work. The words are frozen in my throat. I can’t even find the words to tell him I love him too. How pathetic is that? Not because I don’t, but because I do. I love White. I’ve always loved White. I’m just scared to tell him that, especially since I’ve been kind of lying to him since the beginning. As I look into his eyes, I make a vow to myself: I won’t take my birth control anymore. White doesn’t need to know I’ve been taking them. I’ll stop now and then I can give him the child we’ve been trying for. I can make this right, for both of us.

The pills are hidden inside my purse, a fact I remember with crystal clear clarity when he hands me my purse and jacket and pulls me towards the front door. I follow him, trying to sort through all the chaos in my mind. In the end, I decide that this plan is the safest bet I have. I’ll flush the pills when I get to Ida Sue’s. I’ll get rid of everything and White and I will make a child. It will all work out. He’ll never know that I doubted him. I can make this right. As he helps me get into the car and closes my door, I let my eyes drift shut. I see a picture of White holding our child. This will work… It has to.

CHAPTER 49

WHITE

“If you ever lay another hand on me, I swear to God I will cut it off and feed it to the dogs!”

“We don’t have any dogs, Cooper,” Gray says coolly while his wife is currently huffing out every breath in his direction, her face flushed, her eyes shooting venom at him, and she reminds me of a fire-breathing dragon, really. He’s being really calm. I think in his shoes I’d be hightailing it out to the waiting room. Shit, I just got here and I’m ready to go back into the waiting room. The nurse said this was pre-labor, something about dilation and mild contractions. From the cursing coming out of CC’s mouth, I don’t see a damn thing mild going on.

“I don’t think it was his hand that got you knocked up, baby doll,” Mom chirps in cheerfully, pushing CC’s hair away from her face. Kayla hides behind me and I can feel her body shaking in laughter. Gray apparently has the good sense to remain quiet.

“Then I’ll cut off his damn di—”

“Now, sweetheart, I don’t think you truly mean that. You’re awful partial to my nine iron.”

“Come here,” CC puffs, and that’s when I gain a new respect for my brother. He doesn’t even blink. He walks closer and bends down to her. CC grabs his shirt collar tightly in her hand. For a second, I’m afraid she might choke him. There’s enough anger in her eyes, to completely convince me of that.

“Now, Cooper…”

“My last name is Lucas now, asshole! And if I had one of those fancy nine irons you keep in that fancy golf bag of yours, I’d beat you over the head with it right nowwwww…”

The last of her sentence is whined out in a loud yell which definitely could break glass. I even find myself checking the windows to see if they shatter around us.

“You got this, CC. Just breathe through it,” Mom says, doing her best to be soothing, I’m sure. I’m also pretty certain that CC is completely ignoring her. What I’m even more certain of is the fact that the hold CC has on Gray’s collar is tighter now and to the point that my brother’s face is starting to change color.

“Um… maybe we should go back to the waiting room,” Kayla suggests. I look at her and find she’s a little pale herself. The last thing I need is for her to fear this. Hell, I feel like I’m being stabbed with needles as it is. I don’t want to see Kayla in pain either. Kayla’s right; it’s best if we go outside. We can deal with this part when it’s time.

“We’ll just be outside if you need us,” I tell Gray. He would probably acknowledge me if his wife wasn’t trying to kill him. I need to make a mental note that if we ever get lucky enough to make a baby and Kayla goes into labor, I won’t wear shirts she can grab and strangle me with. That might put a damper on the whole welcoming-our-child-into-the-world thing.

“Hey, before you go, could you give me your phone?” Mom asks just as we’re about to escape through the door.

“My phone?” I ask, automatically reaching for it.

“Yeah, my battery is dead and I want to record the minute the twins make their appearance.”

“You what?” CC screeches, holding her stomach, but thankfully letting go of Gray’s shirt. My brother sucks in some air and coughs, but he looks at me with the goofy grin of a man completely happy with his world. I look at Kayla and can even understand that.

“The minute my precious grandsons’ heads start peeking out, I’m capturing it for prosperity! I’ve even set up one of those fancy Facebook events and invited all our neighbors!” Mom rattles on. “Hand your phone over, White. I need to plan my angle. It’s not going to be easy to capture the moment with the doctor working. Maybe I can get him to pose, holding the head of the first baby, and then…”

“Ida Sue! You are not taking pictures of my va-jay-jay for the world to freaking see!”

“I was going to video it, really, and—”

“There will be no videos of my woman’s pussy.”

“I hate that word.” This is said in unison by both Mom and CC.

“That’s funny. You never tell me that when you’re begging me to play with it,” Gray grumbles, to which CC elbows him in the gut and he ends his sentence with a grunt.

“I think we should go,” Kayla whispers.

“I need your phone,” Mom says.

“You leave your phone, White, and I will hunt you down and gut you.”

The deadly certainty in CC’s eyes is enough to convince me to keep my phone hidden. I let Kayla drag me out of there while Mom and CC are fighting about cameras.

“If we ever have a child and you let Ida Sue within a hundred yards of my delivery room, I will kill you.”

“Got it,” I tell her, starting to think the women I know are a little too bloodthirsty. “How about we go find some food while we’re waiting to see my nephews?”

“I am hungry,” Kayla agrees, and I lead her to the cafeteria. I figure the further I can get her away from the madness, the better—for me and for other parts of my anatomy.

CHAPTER 50

WHITE

“Your daughter is beautiful, CC,” Kayla whispers. She’s holding Gray and CC’s new baby daughter Violet. She’s a beautiful little girl with these tiny little fingers and toes and a head full of auburn hair the color of her mom’s. She’s so beautiful, I don’t even mind that they named her after a flower—a fact my Mom is still going on about. Her twin brother William, who is named after someone CC loved, is almost her complete opposite, though their faces are very similar. Mom says he’s named after the flower Sweet Williams. Gray is denying it, but I saw CC wink at her, so I’m not sure at this point. I guess if they carry on the family tradition, it might be easier when Kayla and I don’t.

And that’s the thing. I wanted to give Kayla a baby before. Slowly, the idea settled inside of me and I wanted to tie her to me with a child—my child. Today after watching her hold Violet, seeing the child wrap its little hand around Kayla’s finger and watching as my woman coos at her, there’s this hunger inside of me, this need that I’ve never had before. Kayla will have my child growing inside of her. The doctors have all assured us there’s nothing preventing that and I won’t stop until it happens. If there was ever a woman meant to be surrounded by babies, it’s Kayla.

I’m holding William and he picks now to cry out. His sister must be very in tune to him because she joins him. “I think they’re hungry again already,” Gray says.

“You just want to see me breastfeed again,” CC jokes tiredly. She’s much calmer and definitely sweeter, now that the babies are here. She’s beautiful, but you can tell she’s worn out too, which is our cue to leave the babies and new parents alone.

“Guilty as charged,” Gray laughs easily, hugging his woman closer. I walk around CC’s bed. Gray is lying on a small portion of it just to hold CC in his arms. It’s good to see my brother so happy. Of all of them, besides Cyan for obvious reasons, I never thought Gray would settle down. He was almost as set against it as I was. I hand William off to him.

“I think it’s time Kayla and I get out of here and let you two have some time alone,” I tell Gray, but I’m looking over his shoulder at Kayla, who is giving a fussy Violet back to her mom. I guess it just takes the right woman to make a man want to settle down. Now, I can’t imagine anything better in life than having Kayla with me through every minute I’m on this Earth and whatever comes after.

“You don’t have to run off,” CC protests.

“We do. You need your rest and you’ve had all the Lucas clan here driving you nuts. We’ll come see you guys tomorrow,” Kayla tells her as I walk around to her. She immediately slips her hand into mine. It’s a simple move, but damn it feels good.

“Thanks for coming by,” Gray adds. We say our final goodbyes and head out of the room. Mom and all of the others had left already. We only stayed so long because Blue and Black had been hogging the babies. They felt it was their duty since they were the reigning twins of the Lucas family to be doting uncles. I just think they were being greedy bastards.

“Weren’t they the most precious things you ever saw? I swear Violet is going to look just like her Mama. William looks completely different. Strange, since they’re twins and all.”

“Buttercup, they’re only fraternal twins,” I laugh, knowing she gets that especially since they’re not even the same gender.

“I know, but usually twins have much more similar characteristics. I always hoped someday I’d have twins, but then you see all these women and they have these beautiful children that all look just alike and you have to wonder how on Earth they manage to tell them apart.”

I can’t help but smile at her words. We’re down the hall almost to the waiting area and elevators when I have to stop her. I tug on her hand so she falls back into me slightly. She looks up at me with a soft gasp. My free hand finds its way into her hair, much like it always does, as I use my thumb to stroke against the side of her face.

“There’s one thing I know beyond a shadow of a doubt,” I whisper, my lips close to hers.

“What’s that?” she murmurs, her breath feathering against my skin.

“The kind of mom you will be, Buttercup. You would absolutely never have any problem telling your children apart. You will know what each cry means. You will even know what each smile means.”

“But…”

“It won’t matter if you have one child or ten at the same time. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, you will know everything about each child,” I tell her truthfully. I watch as her lips slowly move into a full smile. Her small giggle escapes and the sound dives down inside of me somehow and I’m pretty damn sure that from this moment on, I will always be able to hear that laugh in my head when I think of Kayla. A laugh full of happiness and love. I know it’s love because I see it shining in her eyes.

“If I have ten kids at one time, I won’t even know my own name. Did you see how worn out CC was from having just two?”

“You might have a point,” I grin. “I might have exaggerated a bit to get my point across.”

“I love you, White,” she whispers, and those damn words settle inside of me with the force of an explosion. “I love you so much.”

I’m a man and I think by design alone we’re not made to handle emotion—at least, not well. When Kayla gives me those words, her eyes so earnest and the truth of them beaming from everything she is, there’s a moment where I can’t breathe. I’m choking on things I should say. Things I need to say. I want to give her these flowery words, these sonnets and poems and a million other things a woman like Kayla deserves. That’s not who I am, however. That becomes even more evident when all I can do is let out a growl like a caveman, move my hold from the side of her face to her neck, and take her lips.

My brain is misfiring. All I can hear over and over is one word: mine. It doesn’t matter that we’re in a crowded hospital waiting room. It doesn’t matter that it’s late and a minute ago I was just looking forward to getting Kayla home and holding her while we slept. Nothing matters except this overwhelming need inside of me to make sure she knows that she is in fact mine.

CHAPTER 51

KAYLA

Kissing White always transports me away from reality. This time is no different. When we break apart, it takes a few minutes for my brain to register that he just kissed me like that in front of an area full of strangers. I don’t think it’s bothering him, however, because when I try to pull out of his arms, he doesn’t let me.

“White?”

“You picked a bad time to tell me that you loved me.”

“Um… you said you already knew I loved you.”

“I may have thought it, Buttercup, but I never heard you say it. That makes it real,” he explains, and his thumb massages at the corner of my mouth again. His deep blue eyes are staring down at me and he’s so beautiful. He feels like something I shouldn’t hope to touch or want, and yet I do, and he’s mine. He’s made that clear and finally I’m starting to believe it.

“Why don’t we go home and I’ll show you how much I love you?” I ask him boldly, suddenly having more courage than I ever have before.

“I thought you said sex at my Mom’s was a no-go?”

“It’s a good day. I’m willing to make an exception,” I tell him, feeling the heat rise on my face.

“What if I can’t wait that long?”

“Huh?” I ask like a dummy, not quite catching on.

“It’s a good thirty-five, forty minutes to Mom’s from here. I don’t think I can wait that long,” he tells me, bringing my hand to the zipper of his jeans and moving it down so I can feel the prominent outline of his cock. I squeeze against the firm shape, feeling the heat emanating from him. I’ve heard the term raging hard-on, but I’m not sure I’ve taken the time to admire and feel one close-up. This definitely applies. I look around and am thankful to find that no one seems to be noticing what we’re doing.

“White,” I whisper uneasily.

“I got this,” he says, and I’m not one to argue, but my heart is beating hard. It’s pushing against my chest in a mixture of fear, excitement, and worry. He turns us around and we’re going through the hallway that leads to the rooms. At first, I guess because I’m apparently slow, I don’t realize what he’s doing. No, I’m busy thinking we’re going back to see CC and Gray. I start to question him, but before I can, he pulls me inside a room. It’s a room much like CC’s birthing room, except this one is empty. There’s a hospital bed in the middle with a curtain that pulls around it, and the rest of the equipment is pushed to the corner, unused.

“White?”

“I love when you wear dresses,” he growls. Then, I find myself lifted in the air. I wrap my legs around his waist, afraid I might fall. I shouldn’t have worried; his hold on me is solid. He closes the door behind us and then walks me over to the bed.

“White, I’m not sure I like that look in your eye. It’s a hospital. Anyone could come in and we really—”

“Don’t worry, Buttercup,” he says, reaching up and pulling the curtain around the bed.

“A curtain? Really?”

“Yeah, and as for the look in my eye, that shouldn’t bother you either.”

“It shouldn’t?” I ask, almost afraid to. In answer, he grabs me roughly at the hips and twirls me fast so I’m facing the bed, my back to him. I grab the bed to keep from falling, my heart beating a frantic rhythm. “White,” I gasp, unsure of what else to say. In the end, there’s nothing to say. He says it all when he leans in, his breath against my ear, his chin in the hollow of my neck, and his five o’clock shadow tickling my shoulder.

“You won’t get a chance to see my eyes,” he whispers at the exact moment his hand slides up my leg and under my dress to grab my ass cheek hard.

CHAPTER 52

WHITE

I turn Kayla around so she’s facing the bed. I give her a second to catch her breath. It’s ragged and echoes in the room, even louder than my own. I watch as her fingers bite into the mattress on the hospital bed. Her fingers clench as she tries to get herself under control. I’m not about to let her get control of any kind. My hands lock on her hips and I pull to maneuver her right where I want her. I slowly glide my hand from her hip to the middle of her back. I love the way she stretches against my touch, inviting me to continue. I don’t. Instead I push down on her back, forcing her to bend over, getting her head closer to the mattress, while at the same time pushing her ass higher in the air—exactly where I want it.

Using the hold of my other hand, which is still braced at her hip, I pull her into me, letting her feel the way my cock is begging for her, grinding against her ass so hard that there’s a possibility I could come just from this. I won’t, but she’s tempting me just the same. I gather her dress, pulling it up so it exposes her ass.

“Please tell me you’re not wearing another pair of those panties. I warned you against that,” I growl, just half-joking. My plan is that eventually she stops wearing underwear altogether.

“I’m at a hospital! Of course I’m going to wear panties!” she hisses. I’m using my finger to move along the edge of her panties, feeling her thighs tremble.

“I told you I didn’t want to see this shit on you anymore,” I remind her, wondering what she will do.

“These aren’t the same,” she defends, trying to push into me when I wrap my finger against the lace at her leg. “They’re boy-cut! Some men find them sexy.”

I know Kayla isn’t trying to upset me, but just the mention of other men seeing her underwear causes anger to coil in the pit of my stomach. I tighten my hold on the thin lace and it pulls taut, and then I hear a ripping noise as the material gives. I toss the remnants on the floor once I can tear it from her body. I know I’m not being gentle. I even know that it’s made marks on her in places and probably hurts. I also do not give a damn. I’m an asshole, I know it, but I’m also pissed off. The thought of another man seeing what is mine makes me want to punch walls.

“It doesn’t matter what the fuck some men like. They won’t get the chance to see you again. We got that clear. Right, Kayla?”

“I was just saying…”

“It’s clear, right? No one sees this pussy,” I tell her, letting my fingers slide between her legs, and then I reach under and push against her lips. They part magically, letting one finger push in, her sweet cream surrounding me at once. “No one touches this pussy but me.”

“What? I—”

“Say it, Kayla.”

“Of course they don’t, White. That’s not what I…” Her sentence trails off and ends with a loud gasp as my hand cracks down hard on her ass. I can feel the cheeks of her ass vibrate from the hit. Heat moves through her, flushing her skin a bright pink. My dick jerks in reaction.

“No one touches this ass, but me.” I hear a whimper. She pushes against me. What I don’t hear is her agreement, so I bring my hand down again, and bastard that I am, it’s even harder this time. “No one touches this ass but me, Kayla,” I tell her, harsher this time.

“No one,” she whimpers, her ass bucking against my hand. I rub the red skin, admiring the print of my hand on the pale white flesh, carefully rubbing against the walls of her pussy without entering.

“I think you like being spanked, Buttercup. You were wet before, but you’re drenched now. Listen to the noises this sweet pussy makes when I slide my fingers through it. You don’t want them to leave, do you, baby? Do you want me to get you off right here?”

“Yes, please, White,” she moans. The need in her voice makes me feel so powerful that I thrust two fingers inside of her in reward. Her muscles cling to my fingers and she tries to suck them in deeper. She rides my fingers so tightly, I think she might break them. I thrust them in and out a few times, giving her only a small taste of what I really want to give her. She does her best to rise up, but I don’t let her get away with it. Instead, I push harder on her back, making sure her body stays low and angled perfectly for me.

Regretfully, I take my fingers away. Kayla cries in protest, doing her best to rear back. She looks at me over my shoulder and I grin at the mixed look of anger and need on her face. I bring my fingers to my lips and let her watch as I lick her cream from them. Her eyes go large.

“You taste good, Honey.”

“White, please…”

“What’s wrong, Buttercup? Do you want my fingers back?” I ask her, letting them move back down. I slide them against her clit and then further down, skirting her entrance, pushing against it but never going inside.

“You’re killing me,” she whimpers.

Her cream covers my fingers and I use it to push against her ass, painting the opening generously, then diving down to get more. I repeat the action several times, the last time sliding the tips of my fingers through the tightly locked ring of muscles of her ass. Her body goes still. Every muscle she has locks in place, as if she’s afraid to move. If it wasn’t for the breathless sounds leaving her mouth, I’d be worried she wasn’t getting oxygen. I lean down and kiss along her spine as I push my fingers in a little further. One finger goes inside just past the knuckle. She’s so fucking tight there, she may destroy my cock when she takes it inside, but she will do it. I will own every part of her.

“You like this, Honey?”

“White,” she whispers and I can hear the need in her voice even as her body shakes in what is probably fear.

“I’m claiming your ass, Kayla. It’s going to take my cock all the way inside. I’m going to go so deep you won’t be able to move for weeks without feeling me.”

“Jesus,” she sighs.

I kiss down her spine and along her ass while pulling the finger back out. I let my teeth graze one of her cheeks and then bite into it, letting her feel the sting and claiming her ass the only way I can right now.

“This is my ass, Kayla,” I tell her over her squeal of shock when I bite her—a squeal that only deepens when I thrust my finger back in, and this time, I go as deep as possible.

“It will hurt,” she says, but her body is moving in all the right ways. She wants this. Fuck, she’d let me take her right here, right now if I wanted. She’s not ready, though. We’ll have to work up to that.

“Aww, Honey, that’s not my plan. I’m going to make you feel good. Real good,” I tell her, leaving her ass with a small kiss. Then I unzip my pants, pushing them out of the way. My poor cock could almost sing in relief as I let him out. It’s a miracle he didn’t rip through my pants. I take my cock in my hand to let the tip push against her ass, just enough so she knows what I want.

“White,” she whispers, but before she can let her mind be ruled with fear, I slide my dick down the slick, cream-coated path to her pussy and plunge inside of her. “White!” she calls out louder this time as I sink up to my balls inside of her.

“Hold on, sweetheart. This is going to be a hard ride,” I warn her, and then make good on that promise.

CHAPTER 53

KAYLA

“Mom, I thought I told you I’m not drinking this crap!” White says from beside me.

We’re sitting at the breakfast table eating and White is staring down at another one of Ida Sue’s “healthy” shakes. This one is green with a touch of brown and it smells like a skunk. The place is relatively quiet today. Petal hasn’t been home in two days and Green is on the road. That leaves Jansen, who is sick in bed with the flu, and Cyan, who isn’t himself and left the same minute White and I came into the kitchen. He kissed me on the forehead and just disappeared. I’m more than a little worried about him, but when I asked White about it, he just shrugged.

“You need it. I haven’t been told you and Kayla have made me a grandbaby yet and until that happens you need all the help you can get, White Hall. Now drink up.”

“What kind of crap is in it this time?”

“Never you mind. Just drink.”

“It smells like roasted ass.”

“Roasted ass? Really?” I ask White, shaking my head. In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have because he moves the glass under my nose and I have to agree. “Well, at least you seem fond of asses,” I murmur to him.

“My woman has jokes,” he whispers back, capturing my lips in a quick kiss that manages to make my pulse go crazy and heat rise in my face.

“Love you, Buttercup,” he whispers, our foreheads pressed together. My breath lodges in my throat long enough for my heart to fill to the point where it might burst.

“Love you too,” I whisper.

“It’s about damn time!” Black comes in. White and I pull apart and I instantly miss him.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” White grumbles, looking at me with a wink.

“Shut it, old man,” Black growls, sitting down beside me. He wraps his arm easily around my back, pulling me away from White and into him.

“You do realize that you’re not that much younger brother?”

“Age is a number. I’m much more active than you, not to mention sexier and better in bed,” Black says with a wink. I shake my head and I’d probably move away from him, but I don’t get the chance; White is already pulling me back into him and sending Black the evil eye.

“They say you get delusional with age. Guess you just started early,” White grumbles.

“Fuck you,” Black laughs good-naturedly.

“Language. You don’t have a kiss for your Momma?” Ida Sue asks.

“White’s fault, Momma. He drives me to cussing,” Black says and leans up to kiss Ida Sue’s cheek when she bends down.

“Want some breakfast?”

“Nah, just coffee. I got a meeting with the mayor in about an hour. I can’t afford to be late.”

“You need to eat better or find a woman to take care of you. Lord knows you aren’t good at it on your own.”

“I keep trying to get Kayla here to leave my loser brother and run away with me, but the bastard won’t let her out of his sight.”

“Stay away from Kayla or that damn smile you like to flash all the ladies won’t be so pretty.”

“Love has made you a bitter man, brother. A bitter man.”

“Whatever,” White mumbles. “I’m going to go get our things together. Want to join me, Buttercup?”

“Kayla will be in after I show her the pretty things I got for CC’s baby shower.”

“She’s just had the baby. Isn’t it a little late for a baby shower, Mom?”

“Just never you mind. If she don’t have it now, then she’ll need it when she gets it.”

“Whatever that means. I’ll see you in a bit, Buttercup.”

“Okay, Sweetheart,” I tell him with a smile. I don’t know how it is possible, but right now everything feels perfect.

Ida Sue and Black keep me busy talking and going through all the various items that she’s gathered for CC and before I know it, I’ve been there over an hour. White and I were going to try and leave before now. He probably fell back asleep. He sure didn’t get any sleep last night.

“And what’s that blush for?” Black asks, and I look up to find him watching me.

“I don’t blush.”

“Kayla sweetheart, you blush more than any woman I’ve ever met.”

“Whatever, I’m going to go pack. White must have gotten lost.”

“He loves you, you know,” Black says and I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. I stand up, wringing my hands together.

“I’m starting to believe it,” I tell him.

“Not every man is like that worthless stepfather you had, Kayla.”

At his words this time, real fear grips me. I look around to find that we’re alone. Ida Sue must have left when I was daydreaming about White.

“They don’t know, sweetheart.”

“How do you?”

“I’m a cop.”

“But that’s been forever ago. Oh God, you can’t tell White!”

“Relax, Kayla,” Black says, pulling me back down to my chair. He holds my hand tightly and I have to fight to hold his eyes with mine. I don’t want to be weak. I haven’t been weak in a long time. “I’m not going to tell anyone. Though, if you want to know what I think, I think you should tell White.”

“No.”

“Kayla—”

“He doesn’t need to know. No one does. It’s over. It’s been over a long time, Black. How did you even find out?”

“I found your file when we were archiving a bunch of shit when I first started. I’ve known for a long time, Kayla.”

“Well, you can just forget about it. It doesn’t matter anymore. It never did.”

“It does matter. White would want to know.”

“Why? He can’t change anything. Not now. It’s water under the bridge. I’m not that little girl anymore.”

“No, you’re not. You’re a beautiful woman, Kayla. A woman a man would be proud to have by his side. You’re fierce, you’re loyal, and you’re gorgeous…”

“I’m not, but…”

“You are, darlin’, and your beauty goes all the way through. You’re the only one who has never realized that,” Black says, letting his hand move to my chin, his finger brushing against the skin in a move that reminds me a lot of his brother. Black’s not looking at me with need, lust, or love, however. He’s looking at me with the one look on his face that I despise. The one look that makes me sick to my stomach and reminds me of a time when I felt alone and lost. He’s looking at me with pity.

“What the fuck is going on?” I jerk my head up to look at White. I don’t understand the look on his face. It scares me. Black must feel the same because instead of trying to add to White’s anger—because he is angry—he stands up, putting his body in front of mine.

“Easy, brother. I was just having a talk with Kayla.”

“Yeah, I could tell.” White spews the words out and there is more than anger in them. They feel… hateful.

I stand up to go to him. I don’t know what’s happening, but I need it to stop. I need White to be okay. I need us to be okay.

“White Hall, I don’t know what has got you upset, but let’s not do anything to make things worse here,” Black says and the trepidation in his voice worries me even more.

“You don’t know what the fuck you are talking about. This doesn’t concern you, so just get the fuck out of my way.”

“White…”

“How long were you going to keep lying to me, Kayla?” White growls, and I move around Black to try and look at him. My skin breaks out in a cool sweat, and I feel panic swamp me. Black does his best to block me, and I know he’s trying to protect me. I’m even kind of glad, but I have to fix this. I have to fix whatever is going on.

“Let me through, Black,” I whisper, my voice sounding hoarse and strange to my own ears.

“Yeah, let her through, Black, so she can lie to me some more.”

“Lie to you, White? I don’t know what’s going on, but if you—”

“You don’t know what’s going on? That’s rich, Kayla, because here I was thinking I was the one who didn’t know what the fuck was going on!”

“What—?”

“I have a ‘what’ for you, Kayla. What the fuck are these?” he yells, tossing a container at me. A container of my birth control pills.

CHAPTER 54

WHITE

I watch as Kayla catches the container of birth control pills. She looks down at them and her hands are trembling. I want to hear her tell me that I’m wrong, that’s she’s not been lying to me. I need to hear her deny that she’s been letting me think we’re trying for a baby while doing everything in her power to prevent a pregnancy. I need to hear it, but as she grips the pills in her hand and slowly sits down, refusing to look at me, hope of that fades.

“Imagine my surprise, when I accidentally knocked over the trash in the bathroom and found these buried at the bottom of it. I guess you were trying to hide them, right?”

“It’s not what you are thinking, White. Please, you have to believe me.”

That’s definitely not a denial, and hope dies in that moment. Anger was there before, but now it explodes.

“What I think is the woman I thought I could trust over anyone has been lying to me this whole fucking time!”

“It’s not like that,” she cries, standing up and trying to come to me, but I back away. I can’t touch her now. I don’t want to be near her right now.

“What was the point, Kayla? What was the fucking point? Was it all just a fucking lie? A game for you? Were you playing me?”

“No, of course not! How could you think that? You know me, White. You know me more than anyone!”

“I don’t know you at all. The woman I thought I knew would have never lied to me! Every fucking time you started your period, I’d feel bad because I failed at giving you the one thing you wanted the most. Jesus Christ, you let me go to that damn clinic to get checked out thinking I wasn’t capable of getting you pregnant!”

“I tried to confess! I wanted to! But I was afraid! I didn’t want to lie. I was trying to protect you!”

“Protect me? Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“But I was! You didn’t want a baby. You were doing it for me. You’ve told me over and over how you would never have a kid. I couldn’t let you—”

“Because I didn’t want a woman to control me! Because I couldn’t trust anyone. But I trusted you, Kayla. I believed in you and you lied!”

“To protect you!” she cries out, and if I wasn’t so angry, the tears running down her face would hurt me. I can’t pretend they don’t bother me now. Suddenly, it feels like the air in the room is gone. I can’t stay here. I can’t look at her. It hurts too fucking much.

“I can’t do this right now,” I growl, leaving the kitchen. I hear her calling for me, but I ignore it. I make it to the porch before I feel her hand on my arm. I jerk it away, turning around quickly. I don’t want her touching me. Not right now, and maybe never again. She stumbles back and I start to reach out and grab her. I end up letting my fingers bite into the palm of my hand as it’s Black that catches her before she can fall.

“White, you have to listen to me. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I wanted to make you happy!”

“How? By lying to me?” I growl.

“What’s going on here?” I turn around to see Mom is playing with her damn cow. The thing thinks he’s a dog. A very large dog. The cow is lying down on the ground. Mom’s sitting beside it and rubbing its stomach, of all things. How she can be like this with the cow and still eat a hamburger is a question I’m not about to answer. I shake my head and focus back on the woman who has just destroyed me. That might sound melodramatic, but it’s not. Having Kayla lie to me was one thing I never saw coming. I can’t even wrap my head around it.

“I didn’t mean to lie to you, White. I swear, I didn’t. I was trying to not use you.”

“Use me? From where I’m standing, that’s all you did. If all you wanted was my cock, Honey, you just had to ask. I’ve fucked a lot of women who didn’t deserve my time. I would have just added you to the list.” The hateful words are out before I can stop them. I watch as Kayla visually blanches, her body jerking back as if I struck her with my fist. The air around us grows thick and I instantly want to take the words back. Whatever is going on here, Kayla didn’t deserve that… I don’t think. The truth is, my head is all messed up right now… and my heart. Fuck. It hurts. I’ve never been this deep with a woman before. I gave Kayla everything and I’m starting to think I’m not going to survive this.

“White Hall Lucas, you shut that damn talk right now before my cow-shit-covered boot shuts your mouth for you. What the hell is going on here?” Mom yells, and I feel her coming up beside me on the porch. I don’t look at her. I’m too busy looking at a broken Kayla, because whatever else is going on in my head right now, I’m sane enough to register that. Kayla looks… broken. Something is not right. If she were using me, she wouldn’t be like this, right? Or hell, is this just her playing me again to try and get sympathy? The Kayla I thought I knew is all mixed up with the Kayla who lied to me. Which one is the real her?

“I didn’t want to saddle you to… I didn’t want to trap you with…”

“Spit it out, Kayla,” I growl, frustrated and confused.

“I couldn’t do that to you, White! Don’t you understand?”

Understand? Fuck, I don’t understand any of this. She looks so lost, hurt, and innocent looking at me. Is this the real Kayla? What am I missing here?

“Do what? For fuck’s sake, Kayla, I’ve about had it. Make some goddamn sense or just shut the hell up.”

“I couldn’t trap you into staying with me! Can’t you see that? I knew you didn’t want a child. I didn’t want to trap you and be that weight around your neck you couldn’t ever get rid of.”

“Woman, what the fuck are you talking about? I told you I wanted a baby. Jesus! I was fucking you every minute I could to put my baby in you. It’s what I wanted. And you knew that, Kayla. You can’t pretend you didn’t. I sure as hell told you every chance I got.”

“But you didn’t mean it. Not really, and I couldn’t do it, White. I wanted it so bad but I just couldn’t do it,” she cries, and my anger must be dying down because now I’m hurting, seeing her so torn. I want to comfort her, but I need answers. Whatever this is, whatever is going on, I have to know everything first.

“Do what? What are you talking about?”

“I couldn’t share a child with you and be on the outside of your life while you built a family with someone else.”

“Someone else? What are you talking about? Fucking hell, you aren’t making a bit of sense, Kayla.”

“Eventually you would have left. You would have realized that you didn’t want to be with me and found someone better. I didn’t think I could live if I had to see you with our child every day, being in love with someone else. It’s just too much to expect from me.”

Holy shit. Is she serious? Where the hell is this coming from? I knew her self-confidence was gone, but could she be this blind, this twisted inside? How did I not see this? I hear Mom talking, and Black. I can’t concentrate on what they’re saying. The cow is mooing in the background. I suppose it’s barking in its way because I can hear a car coming up the driveway. It’s all filtered out and relegated into the background as I stare at the woman I love more than life. I’d suspected she had issues, but I don’t think I realized how deep they went. I wasn’t looking for scars and it’s clear to me now that she definitely has them… on the inside.

“White,” Black starts, but I ignore him; my concentration is on Kayla.

“I told you I love you, Kayla. Only you, Buttercup. You told me you believed me.”

“I did. I do… mostly, but there’s all those women you’re with. They’re all so beautiful and then there’s me. Even Rachel…”

“I told you nothing happened with Rachel—”

“White,” Black says again.

“Uh, son…” Ida Sue joins him. I’m taking a step toward Kayla. I want to talk to her about this alone. We need to straighten this shit out. Before I can, however, she goes as pale as a ghost.

“Kayla?” I ask, afraid now something is wrong with her health. I watch as her body trembles. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I think that might be me,” I hear, and I turn around.

I turn and stare straight at Kayla’s sister, Rachel. A very pregnant Rachel.

CHAPTER 55

KAYLA

“Where the hell did she come from?” I hear White hiss.

“I tried to tell you, man,” Black responds. I can’t pay attention because I’m just looking at Rachel. I already felt faint before, but now I’m close to passing out. I don’t want my sister here. I don’t want my sister watching yet another man tell me what trash I am and toss me aside like an old newspaper. I don’t want to see that look in her eye, the one where she tries to look like she hurts for me, but instead I see gloating satisfaction shining back at me.

“What are you doing here, Rachel?” White growls.

“You invited me, remember? I’m just taking you up on your offer.”

“I don’t remember inviting you to my mother’s.”

“No, but you did invite me to come spend time with you and my sister. When I saw on Kayla’s Facebook status that you two were down here, I just decided to come. I did warn you I needed to talk to you.”

“Surely that could have waited until we were back home,” I tell her, and I want to wince at the weak, hoarse voice I’m using. It’s only then I remember that I’ve been crying. Check that; I still am crying, and isn’t that just wonderful? I love that Rachel can see my humiliation. Just love it.

“No. It couldn’t wait, Kayla. The world doesn’t exactly revolve around you, you know. That’s one of the things father could never stand about you. You had to always be the center of attention. I see you haven’t outgrown that.”

My face heats red. I have to fight to keep from withdrawing like I always used to—like I was conditioned to do. Before I can speak up, White is standing in front of me, and Black succeeds in blocking me from the side. I can barely catch a glimpse of my sister through them.

“Keep your voice civil around Kayla or you can leave. She’s at home here. You are not.”

“It didn’t sound like she was at home here. It sounded to me like you were just about to send her on her way.”

“You’d be mistaken. It was a small difference of opinion. Couples have those. It means nothing,” White says, and my heart turns over. Small difference of opinion? Is he serious? Things are changing so much around me, I can’t gather my bearings. What I do know is, I don’t want to be that quiet church mouse anymore. When I was growing up, I tried to be quiet and not draw attention to myself. Doing that meant punishment and berating. It rarely worked, but I tried. I don’t want to be that frightened child anymore. Ida Sue rescued me in more ways than one, and I’m not about to forget the strength being part of the Lucas clan gave me. For that reason alone, I push through the two men, who I think are trying to protect me.

“If you say so, regardless, there are still things I’d like to talk with you about.”

“Talk away.”

“Rachel, maybe we should go inside and sit down. I didn’t know you were pregnant. Why didn’t you tell me?” I try to ignore the way it feels to know my sister is pregnant. If I hadn’t been stupid, would I have already been carrying White’s baby? Will I get the chance to do that now? Can I make him understand? I have so many questions, I’m scared, I’m nervous, and now I’m jealous of my sister. I thought I had made progress over the years, but suddenly I’m wondering if I have at all.

“I wanted to tell you. Actually, I would like to sit down. I’m not feeling that great today. I’ve had some complications with the pregnancy.”

“Absolutely,” I tell her, going to her and using the back of my hand to wipe the tears and try to not look like a complete idiot. “Why didn’t you tell me? Is the dad in the picture? If I can help you at all, I’m here,” I tell her, and internally I’m kicking myself. Rachel is not good to me. She’s definitely not good for me, and honestly, she’s not that great of a person, and yet here I am falling into old habits, being the sister who begs for her attention and tries to get approval. Why? Why do I even want a sense of belonging with her? What makes me crave approval from a family that never wanted me and never will? I hear White grunt in the background and I know him enough to know that he’s not happy with me right now either. Whether that’s about Rachel or the birth control pills, I’m not sure. If I had to guess right now, I’d say both.

“That’s why I’m here,” Rachel says, and I feel guilty for thinking she’s leaning on me a little too heavily since of the two of us, I’m probably dizzier than she is. I wish my heart would quit beating so hard. I feel so nervous. I just need to get Rachel settled and then I can talk with White. I’ve got to get this straightened out.

“It is? You could have called me to tell me. I know we don’t talk much, but I would have helped you. You didn’t need to come all the way here, especially if you don’t feel good.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so glad you’re being understanding about all this. Because, well… there’s a problem.”

“A problem?”

“Yes. I don’t really know how to tell you, or to tell anyone, really. And I feel just so lost, but I knew when White told me you were getting married, I had to tell you.”

“What are you talking about?” White asks at the same time I ask, “Tell me what?”

“That you can’t marry White.”

“I can’t?”

“She sure as hell can and she will.”

“She can’t. You see… my baby… it’s yours.”

“What the fuck are you talking about??” White growls, but I know. It’s all coming down on me like the force of a brick wall crumbling on top of me. My heart hammers even harder, my breath becomes labored, my skin feels clammy, and the room starts to swim. I’m fainting. I know it, I can’t stop it, and the last words I hear before I hit the floor are words I never want to hear again from anyone except me.

“I’m having your baby, White. I’m pregnant with your child.”

CHAPTER 56

WHITE

I’m in disbelief as I watch Kayla become lifeless. It’s almost as if it is in slow motion. I grab her just before she hits the floor and quickly gather her in my arms.

“Lay her down on the couch,” Mom yells, but I ignore her. I ignore everyone. I take Kayla straight to my room and lay her on the bed. She looks so small and frail lying there, and fear—bone-deep fear—replaces the anger from earlier. Well, at least the anger directed at her. I can’t lose Kayla. I don’t think I could survive. She’s always been special to me, but since we’ve been together, she’s a part of me. She owns me. Mom comes in a minute later carrying a washcloth. I squeeze it to make sure she got all the cold water out and then place it on her face, slowly moving it around, willing her to come to. I hold onto her hand, refusing to let go.

“Should we take her to the hospital?” Black asks, and I look up to see him and Rachel come in.

“Get her out of here,” I growl, not wanting to see the bitch.

“White,” Rachel says, and that does it. I had been kneeling by Kayla, but I stand up quickly and go to the door, pushing my brother out of the way.

“Get the fuck out of here. I don’t know what the hell kind of game you’re playing, Rachel, but you and me both know that kid in your belly is not mine.”

“White, you’re the only man I’ve been with in a long time. It is yours. I know you’re upset. I tried to tell you sooner. I was scared–”

“Bullshit! I didn’t sleep with your ass. I wouldn’t have done that to Kayla.”

“We’d been drinking. Things happen. We shouldn’t feel guilty about this. You and Kayla weren’t together and you can’t deny we’ve always had chemistry together. You have to see that this child isn’t a bad thing. We can have a good life together…”

“You are fucking delusional. Kayla and I might not have been together, but I have always loved her and I would never sleep with her sister! Hell, if I hadn’t been so drunk, I never would have crashed on your couch with the way you kept putting little jabs in about Kayla. You disgust me. That’s the reason I left as soon as I woke up. Woke up. Alone. Clothes on. So pedal whatever garbage you’re selling somewhere else. I’d cut off my dick before I’d let it touch you.” I’m advancing on her with every word until she’s backed up a good ten feet. Once she’s out of the doorway, I slam the door in her face.

“Brother—”

“You watch her, get her the fuck out of here, and see where she goes. It wouldn’t surprise me if she starts leaking shit to the press. I’m not sure what her game is, but I need this shit locked down.”

“You’re positive there’s no way…?”

“Not in a million years is that kid she’s carrying mine.”

“Got it. I’ll take care of it.”

“At least you have more sense than I was giving you credit for. I was starting to think poor Hamburger had more brains than you did.”

“Hamburger?” Black says, coming back into the room.

“Mom named her pet cow Hamburger.”

“Why does this not surprise me?” Black asks from behind me.

“Because you and Blue named him that first. It confused the little feller, so I just changed it to go along with you,” Mom grumbles. I can hear a thud and know she head-slapped Black. I know because she does that to all of us, usually twice a day.

“What’d you do with the bitch?”

“I got Jansen watching her,” Black says.

“Jansen? Oh, hell no. That man is so hyped up on my shakes, he could knock up a woman from fifty feet.”

“Jesus, Mom. Besides, she’s already knocked up,” Black growls.

“I’m not taking any chances. I’ll call the doctor while I’m out there and get him to come check our girl out.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“I’m fine,” Kayla says weakly, sitting up in the bed. Relief sweeps over me and I’ve never felt more grateful in my life than when I finally see Kayla’s beautiful eyes open. “Did you really name your cow Hamburger?”

“Not originally, but the boys wouldn’t shut up, so I gave in. Hammy likes the name, so who am I to argue?”

“That’s just wrong, Ida Sue.”

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong. You being sick. I’m going to get Doc Baker to come out here and check you out.”

“I’m fine. It was just stress,” Kayla says, and her eyes lock with mine.

“You guys go check on Jansen,” I order, my voice gruff. They mumble their goodbyes to Kayla and I try to sort through everything, wondering how my life went to shit in the space of an hour.

“I’ll get Doc Baker to come out. It’s best to play it safe and not be sorry later,” Mom says at the door. “White Hall?” I look up at her, feeling a fuck of a lot older than I really am. “Don’t be an asshole and fuck it all up.”

“Mom…”

“I’m just saying! Of all of my boys, you have the tendency to react half-cocked and regret it later.”

“Ida Sue, we’ll handle it,” Kayla says quietly. I turn to her and see the fear in her eyes. I also see the questions, questions we both have to answer, questions that are surrounding us and seem to be choking the very air we breathe.

It takes a few minutes before Mom and Black finally say their goodbyes. I bite my tongue to keep from beating Black down for hugging Kayla. It appears that even mad, I am still a possessive motherfucker. When the door closes, we sit there in the empty room for a few minutes staring at each other.

“So…” Kayla says, a little color starting to come back to her face.

“Why, Kayla?” I ask without meaning to. I sound desperate and fuck, I am. Knowing Kayla has been lying to me feels like someone has cut out my heart.

“Why?”

“Why the fuck are you taking birth control pills?” I growl, unable to stop myself, feeling her betrayal twist in the pit of my stomach like a poison.

CHAPTER 57

KAYLA

White’s accusation hangs between us, and nerves threaten to consume me. I understand why he is upset, and I need to talk to him about it. I do. I need to explain. I don’t know how to make him comprehend why I made the choices I did, though. I’m not even sure I understand them myself. But his demand upsets me more. I mean, I get he’s pissed, but in light of Rachel showing up, I think we have more than just my birth control to discuss.

“I need to go out and check on Rachel,” I tell him.

“The hell you do! We need to clear this up between us. You’ve been lying to me.”

I sit up on the bed, doing my best to shake the dizziness off; the last thing I need to do is pass out again. “I didn’t lie! I just… wasn’t completely forthcoming about things.”

“Did you seriously just say that to me right now?”

“You didn’t ask me if I was still taking birth control! I was unsure about our relationship, and I was protecting myself! I think I had that right!” I growl, then immediately regret my words. They aren’t truthful, not really. “I think it’s clear that you’ve been keeping your own secrets here! And yours are definitely bigger!” I yell, getting up. I stumble a little and feel White grab my arm to steady me, so I jerk it away.

“Sit down before you fall down!”

“I’m fine! I’m upset! As any woman would be when they find out the man they love knocked up her sister!”

“I did not knock her up!”

“It sure looks like you did!”

“I don’t know who put that kid in her belly, but it wasn’t me. The only woman I’ve been trying to do that with was busy making sure it wouldn’t happen! What is it, Kayla? Are you too good to have a kid with me? It’s okay to sleep with the football jock, but I’m not good enough to give you a kid? You rather save that for a fuckwad like Tommy Haynes?”

“I can’t believe you just said that to me!”

“Why? What the hell else am I supposed to think?”

“That I know you! That I was scared and confused! I stopped taking the damn pills! I stupidly thought I could trust you and in what we were building! Call me stupid!”

“I will! You are acting stupid right now! I’ve never lied to you. I’ve never given you a reason to doubt me or think I’m lying to you.”

“I’m acting stupid?” I ask in disbelief.

“That’s what I said,” White growls, and that’s it. I stomp out of the room. I don’t even want to look at him. I’m walking through the house, not sure where I’m going. I just know I want to be gone. I can’t deal with any of this right now. “Where the hell are you going? We have to have this out!”

“I think we’ve said enough for now.”

“No way! Get your ass back here, Kayla. You need to explain why you didn’t—”

“Didn’t what, White? Let you knock me up?” I yell when I make it out onto the porch, which might not be the place to discuss this, since Ida Sue, Jansen, Black, Luka, Petal, their little boy, Rachel, and some man I don’t know are out here. Green’s truck is in the driveway and he’s standing at the steps watching it all. I know because our eyes lock and I can feel the tears start. I look back at White and then I see Rachel standing behind him.

“Exactly!” he growls, his face red and anger pouring off of him. Black is trying to pull him back and get his attention, but it’s no use; all of his fury is pinned on me. Some of it rightfully so, I know, but he’s being an asshole. He’s the one who should be explaining things here, and he’s not even trying.

“Maybe I didn’t want to be just like my sister! What were you thinking, White? Did you think it’d be fun to knock up sisters? Hell, we could probably go to the graveyard and dig up my worthless mother and you can go for the trifecta!”

“What the hell is going on here?” Green asks in the silence.

“Kayla’s being stupid,” White spits out, and of all the things he could say, that one hurts the most.

Stupid. His face merges with my stepfather’s, and then I hear Rachel talking as she comes up to put her hand on White’s arm. Just like that, I’m done.

“Green, can you get me out of here?” I whisper, hating the tears, hating that Rachel is there to see them, hating that White sees them, and hating even more that he’s just standing there doing nothing.

“You leave, Kayla, and we are going to have even bigger problems.”

“Kay?” Green asks, confused.

“Please?” I ask, starting to feel dizzy again. “I need to get away.” The world swirls around me, trying to fade. I fight it. I fight going under, refusing to faint again. There’s no way I want to appear that weak in front of White—in front of my sister.

“I’m warning you, Kayla. Don’t push me.”

“Fuck you, White!” I scream, and it is a scream and it is over the top. I’ve had my limit and him standing there sounding so damned condescending is killing me almost as much as seeing my sister touch him.

“Come on, Kay, honey. Let’s get you out of here.”

“You put one hand on my woman and I’ll cut it off, Green. Step the fuck away.”

“Your woman? Did you just say that?” I ask him, not believing it.

“I did.”

“What about the fact that Rachel is touching you?”

“You don’t like it? Do something about it.”

“Do something about it?”

“Exactly. You don’t like her touching me, tell her to stop. Claim me. For once, Kayla, take what you want.”

“You, right? Take you? Claim you in front of everyone? That’s what you’re demanding?”

“I’m here. I’m telling the world you’re my woman. I’m trying to sort this shit out and I’m standing here waiting for you to do the same and to stop running.”

“Poor White. You’ve got it all thought out, don’t you? All except for one major thing. My sister is pregnant with your child!” I scream again, and this scream is so hard that my voice cracks. I feel and hear my heart thumping. I almost feel like I can’t breathe. The world starts spinning and I hear White growl.

“Son-of-a-bitch,” White grunts, and he sounds winded, but I can’t focus on him because the world goes completely black.

CHAPTER 58

WHITE

I’m walking back and forth in the hospital waiting room, waiting for the doctor to come out and tell me something—anything. I managed to grab Kayla before she fell and I loaded her in Green’s truck and took off with everyone yelling in the background. Green and Black ran and jumped in the back and rode there all the way to the hospital. They aren’t talking to me right now, but that suits me fine. I don’t have anything to say. I need to know Kayla is going to be okay. Then I have to figure out what the fuck I’m going to do about that lying bitch of a sister she has. Jesus, life seemed so easy this morning and now it’s a fucking mess.

“Where’s my baby? Where is she?” Mom comes in, yelling. I barely spare her a glance. I’m too busy looking at the door to the patient room at the urgent care center.

“She’s in with the doctor, Mom,” Green answers from somewhere across from me.

“What the hell were you thinking, White Hall, yelling at my precious baby when she was upset?” Mom demands, slapping me behind the head. I’d object, but I’m too busy feeling like shit. She’s right. I needed to cool down and make sure Kayla was okay before delving back into everything. I’m a moron.

“Let it go, Mom,” Black says, probably because he knows I’m feeling like an asshole.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” I growl when I see Rachel coming in with Jansen and Cyan.

“I realize you are upset right now, White. I would be too in your shoes. Kayla has always had problems with being honest, but she’s my sister, and you stand by your family no matter what.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Black butts in before I can answer.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you knew your father was beating Kayla and not once did you come forward and try to stop it.”

“Beating?” I growl, turning my attention back to my brother.

“Goodness, is that the garbage she’s telling you? My father bent over backwards to try and make Kayla a part of our family. She made it impossible.”

“That’s not the reports I read. Not even close.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Black, and why didn’t you tell me?”

“Family of Kayla Graham?” A doctor comes in, interrupting all of us.

“I’m her fiancé,” I tell him, spinning around. “How is she, Doc?”

“We’re still running some tests. Her blood pressure is running pretty low and she’s dehydrated. We’ll know more soon. She asked to speak to a Green?”

“That’s me,” my brother says, going forward, but that’s not happening.

“She may want to talk to Green, but it’s me she’ll be talking to,” I growl. I hear them all call my name, but I ignore it.

“Sir, I must insist that the patient’s visitors be limited to only those she asks to—”

I open and close the door on the doctor. I figure I have five minutes tops before security escorts me out of here, or my brother, the cop, manages to smooth everything over. I waste one of those minutes just staring at Kayla. She’s staring out the window, looking small and defenseless. The guilt inside of me intensifies. She turns around slowly and resentment flashes in her eyes.

“I asked for Green.”

“How are you?” I ask her, ignoring the obvious.

She holds up the hand that has an IV drip running through it with a frown. “Peachy. Just peachy,” she sighs, and I walk slowly to her. I sit in the chair beside her bed and take her hand in mine, letting my thumb move along her fingers, just below her bandage.

“I love you, Kayla.”

“White—”

“I know we have shit to work through, Buttercup, and we will. But you have to know that I love you.”

“I’m not sure what I know anymore,” she whispers, looking up at me.

“We’ll get through this, Kayla. We just have to hold on and get you healthy.”

“Maybe I was right all along and we’re just not meant to be together.”

“Bullshit. Do you love me?”

“Of course I do, but…”

“And Kayla, no matter what you think, I love you.”

“White…”

“I love you.”

“Maybe love’s not enough.”

“Maybe it’s everything.”

“I’m scared, White.”

“Believe it or not, honey, I am too. But I don’t want to lose you.”

“You don’t? But what about Rachel and—”

“I never slept with Rachel. I don’t know her game, but I can tell you that. I think it’s time you and I talked everything out and made a plan.” Kayla looks me over for a minute, completely silent. I almost feel as if I’m holding my breath. Then slowly she shakes her head in agreement, and all I can feel is relief.

CHAPTER 59

WHITE

“What the fuck are you doing here, Rachel?”

“We needed to talk. Are you drinking?” she asks.

I look down at the shot of whiskey in my hand. “So what if I am? Jesus, with the week I’ve had, I deserve a drink.”

“Kayla really took you for a ride, didn’t she?”

“You could say that,” I tell her, looking her over. I’ve never liked her a lot, but how the fuck could I not see how fake she was before now?

“Did you really break up with her?”

“I’m not wasting my time on a lying bitch,” I growl, finishing my drink. I doubt she will see the truth or the irony in that statement. I’m staring at the biggest lying bitch I’ve ever met. After my talk with Kayla yesterday though, I have one goal: to make Rachel tell me what her damn game is. With that in mind, I do my best not to get up and choke her. I’ve never hurt a woman in my life, but damn if she doesn’t tempt me.

“Kayla always causes drama. I tried to maintain a friendship with her because we are sisters, even if it’s only half, but we’re just different kinds of people.”

“I can see that. You two are nothing alike,” I tell her. Jesus, truer words have never been spoken.

“Thanks, White. I guess we have a lot to talk about.”

“Not really.”

“We need to discuss the baby.”

“We’re not having a baby. I don’t know what your game is, Rachel, but you need to cut the shit.”

“White—”

“Whatever game you’re playing needs to stop. I don’t know who’s the father of that baby you’re carrying, but I know it’s not me.”

“You’re wrong. We—”

“We did nothing. Even if I had wanted to, and I did not, I was too drunk that night to do anything.”

“Then how do you explain this?” she asks, her hand petting the prominent curve of her stomach.

“Fuck if I know. It’s probably not immaculate conception, so I figure you found some idiot to knock you up.”

“You’re being crude.”

“That’s who I am.”

“No, it’s not, and I understand that, White. You were looking for a child and a marriage and I can give you that. I can give you that better than Kayla ever could.”

“I—”

“I’m serious, White,” she interrupts. “I fit into your life better than Kayla ever could. I’ve been in the world more. Your lifestyle is the kind that I live daily. I know how to be exactly what you need not only in bed, but in your career. I can help you advance and network.”

“My career?”

“Exactly. You want to be the star quarterback in Dallas. I can help make that happen. The woman in your life is a reflection on you when it comes to your bosses and the general managers of other teams. I know how to fit in and behave, to make you proud. Kayla would only ever embarrass you.”

“You have it all figured out, don’t you, Rachel?”

“I do.”

“You forgot one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I no longer play football.”

“What? Of course you do! You’ve just been on—”

“Medical leave, and as of yesterday, that was made permanent. The shoulder is never going to be game-ready again. So there is no big team dinners, no networking to be done, no hopes of ever being the best quarterback in Dallas.”

“What are you going to do? You need to talk to the doctors and make sure they know how important this is!”

“But it’s not.”

“It’s not?”

“Without Kayla, none of it is important. She’s the love of my life.”

“You’re not going to be playing football anymore?”

“Hell no. You’re looking at a washed-up has-been,” I tell her, finding a certain amount of satisfaction in the look on her face.

“What will you do?”

“Do?”

“For a job?”

“I’m going to take up ranching and help Blue.”

“Well, I mean, with what you made in the past, I’m sure you’re not really hurting for money, so I guess whatever makes you happy. But you’re not cut out to stay in the backwoods.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t care if I ever step foot into the city again.”

“But…”

“None of this is your business, Rachel. You really need to leave. I’ve got more important things to do, like visit the outhouse.”

“I don’t remember you being so crass before.”

“You weren’t trying to fuck up my life before. What I don’t understand is what you could possibly hope to gain from this shit. You and I both know there’s no way I could be the father of your kid.”

“You were drunk.”

“Drunk enough to pass out, not fuck.”

“You could have—”

“Besides, my dick hasn’t fallen off, and I’m pretty sure if it got anywhere near you that it would have.”

“I’m going to leave. I obviously can’t talk to you when you’re in this mood.”

“Before you go, here,” I tell her, handing her the envelope that I’ve been staring at for the last thirty minutes.”

“What’s this?” she asks, taking it from me.

“You’ve just been served.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Those are from my attorney. If you insist on this shit, then you better fucking believe I’m going to be demanding DNA, medical records, everything.”

“I thought you didn’t believe we slept together!”

“I know we didn’t, but you’re so fucked up that I wouldn’t put it past you climbing on me while I was asleep… dreaming about your sister. So let’s get this clear. Whatever game you’re playing, it’s not going to work.”

“You can’t get DNA while I’m carrying the baby.”

“I can when you get so far along, and believe me, Rachel, I’m big enough of a bastard to demand that.”

“I’ll fight it.”

“I wonder between the two of us who can afford to fight the longest.”

“You bastard.”

“Glad you’re starting to figure that out,” I tell her and watch as she sizes me up and then walks out the door. I didn’t get what I wanted, but it’s a start.

CHAPTER 60

KAYLA

I have to sit down. It’s physically impossible to remain standing. I fall back in the chair.

“Without Kayla, none of it is important. She’s the love of my life.”

“You okay, Kay?” I look over at Black and there’s a million and one things I should be concentrating on, but the only thing I can say, the only thing that I can comprehend right now is…

“He loves me.”

“He does.”

“Maybe he just said it because I was listening?” I question, then immediately get mad at myself. White’s not like that. If he said it, he means it. He loves me as much as I love him.

“Kayla, honey, you have to start having confidence in yourself. In White. You’re selling yourself and him way too short. You’re an amazing woman and my brother finally has a brain.”

“I know he loves me. I’ve always known that. But there’s a difference in being in love with someone and loving them.”

“Are you finally believing White truly loves you?”

“I was before this mess. After his visit in the hospital and our small talk, I think I still do. It’s just hard, Black.”

“Does he know you’re pregnant?” Black asks.

My eyes go wide and I exhale a loud breath. My hand goes to my stomach and I rub it. There’s no sign of a child yet, but somewhere in there is a little miracle that’s a part of White and a part of me, growing and getting stronger every day.

“How did you know?”

“Mom.”

“I should have known she couldn’t keep a secret.”

“She just told me because she wanted me to watch out for you. She’ll keep your secret—for a while. You’re going to have to tell my brother. He deserves to know. He thinks you’ve been on birth control all this time.”

“I know. I plan on telling him. I’m still trying to digest it all. I don’t know how it happened…”

“Kayla, sweetheart, you two have been going at it like bunnies.”

“Yeah, but I thought…”

“What’s the big deal? You two wanted a child, even if you didn’t realize how serious White was. You should be celebrating that little peanut you’re carrying in there.”

“I am. I mean, I’m very happy, it’s just… White is busy trying to figure out what my sister is up to, and there’s so much going on between us. I just wish we had things settled beforehand… you know?”

“So settle it. This crap with Rachel will come to a head quickly.”

“It will? Because she’s not that far along. Your idea of quickly and mine…”

“It won’t go that long. I’ve got a man on her now. All we have to do is follow her enough to find out exactly what’s going on.”

“A man on her? Is that legal?”

“She’s trying to blackmail my brother. It’s very legal. But regardless, other than the listening devices and a few other things, very little of the department’s resources are being used.”

“Except the fact that you have a man on her…”

“Luka volunteered.” Black grins. “But my boss would have sprung for it. When a star football player reports an attempt at blackmail, it’s taken very seriously.”

“She hasn’t asked for money or anything, really…”

“They don’t need to know that just yet. It’s all going to be okay, Kayla. You just need to have faith in yourself and White.”

“That’s easier said than done. I mean, not about White. I love him. It’s just—”

“Kayla I get you went through years of hell at the hands of your stepfather and Rachel. Plus, I’m sure it did things to you to have them leave you behind. But you are not a little kid now. You’re a grown woman who worked hard to put herself through school. You have friends, family, and love. You are not alone. If you had let us know, you wouldn’t have been alone then.”

“It’s hard for me to wrap my head around certain things sometimes…”

“Have you thought about counseling?”

“Even after all these years?” I ask him, twisting my hands nervously.

“It’s never too late and it’s clearly still causing you problems.”

“I might check into it…”

“Do it. You want to be healthy for that baby and my brother, but most of all, for yourself.”

“Okay, Black.”

“Good. Now how about we talk about the important stuff?”

“Like what?”

“Like naming my nephew Black Jr.,” he jokes, and I let out my first real laugh in days.

CHAPTER 61

KAYLA

“Where’d she go?” White growls as he bursts into the room. His eyes are on Black, but when he sees me, I can feel the anger increase. Black and I are hugging because I was getting ready to leave, but with White here, I don’t try and leave. Instead, I walk over to him. He looks down at me and I’m acting on instinct, or maybe I’m just finally letting myself be completely truthful and honest, letting go of all the guards I have between us. I reach up on my tip-toes and wrap my arms around his waist. I give myself a second to breathe in the masculine scent that is all White and then I kiss his chin before burrowing my head into his chest.

“I love you, White.” His arms go around me, and he tightens them in reflex at my words. I feel his chin settle against the top of my head.

“I love you too, Buttercup.” It’s a simple exchange, but for now, it’s enough. I stay there in White’s arms. I think he needs it, but I do too.

“I’m waiting for Luka to call,” says Black.

“I appreciate you hanging your ass out like this for me, man.”

“What are brothers for? Besides, they won’t fire me. I make them boys look good.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I appreciate it just the same,” White says, and the two look at each other and some unspoken moment goes between them.

“I’m gonna go grab some coffee. You guys want anything?” Black asks, and I shake my head no while White orders up a coffee, too. The door closes. I hold my breath, wondering exactly how to talk with White and hating the fact that I’m the one responsible for the distance between us. White’s the first one to pull away and I hold my breath and wait.

“Are you finally believing I’m not the father of that kid?”

“I am. It would be kind of hard to doubt it with the lengths you and Black have gone to.”

“Your sister is a bitch, Buttercup. She’s never coming around us when we get married. You need to make that shit clear. I hate to be an asshole here, but I’m going to demand you cut off all ties with her.”

“Are we still getting married?”

“Fuck yes. I know we got a lot of shit between us and a lot more to talk about, but I’m not letting you go, Kayla. I don’t understand some of your choices, but we’ll work past them,” he says, and he’s right. I rub my damp hands down my pants and take in a shaky breath.

“We’ve known each other a long time, White,” I start. He doesn’t say anything but he does move to the chair Black was sitting in. Me? I let the wall hold me up and do my best to hold onto my rapidly failing courage. This may be one of the most important conversations I’ve ever had and the pressure to make him understand is huge. “I have been in love with you for so long, but I fell in love with the real White Hall Lucas, not the sports persona or the man in the news. I didn’t sugarcoat who you are, or try and pretend you didn’t have faults.”

“Gee, Kayla, stop. You’re going to make me blush.”

“You were a man-whore, a self-sworn bachelor for life, and you made no excuses for that, White.”

“I explained why, too. I was a cynical bastard. I knew I’d never trust a woman. Hell, look at what your sister is doing! I think that proves my point.”

“I get it, but how many times did you tell me over and over that you never wanted kids?”

“Kayla—”

“Even after we got together, White. I felt like you did it to try and save me or something.”

“Well, you were planning crazy shit. Someone had to step up.”

“Exactly. So here was White to the rescue, not because you returned my feelings, but because you cared about me and I was a responsibility.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Was it? I don’t think you realize how many times you let it slip that you were giving me a baby.”

“But…”

“How many times you said ‘I’ll give you what you want. I’ll make sure to give you your baby.’”

“I think you’re being unfair here. I don’t think I said those things, or if I did, at least not word-for-word and only at the very beginning.”

“But those are the words that sunk in. Those are the words that I digested and the ones that made me decide to stay on birth control.”

“So you’re saying it’s my fault you lied to me?”

“No. That’s all on me, but you inadvertently helped.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you let me go to the doctor and give a fucking sperm sample as well as a hundred other things.”

“I should have spoken up sooner.”

“Damn straight you should have.”

“I know, and you may not believe this, but I really did try. I just always chickened out.” White takes a breath and releases it loudly in the room. He rubs his hand over his face and closes his eyes. It’s then that I see the small, scruffy beard he’s growing, the lines under his eyes from lack of sleep, and a hundred other things that I hadn’t taken the time to notice. “You look tired.”

“I don’t sleep good without you in the bed.”

“I don’t either.”

“Tonight, you’re back with me.”

“What about Rachel?”

“I don’t give a fuck. I told you the baby is not mine. You just told me you believed me. We’ll wait it out and prove her wrong when the baby is born. I was only going after this so hard to prove it to you. I didn’t want you to have another reason to put distance between us.”

“I don’t want distance, White. I love you.”

“Then you’re in my bed tonight.”

“I’m in your bed tonight,” I agree, and really giving in is easy because I need it even more than he does at this point.

“Thank fuck for that at least.”

“Is your career really over?” I ask, walking to him. He pulls me down on his lap.

“Yeah. I’ve been facing it for a while now. I just didn’t want to admit it. I got the last doctor report back yesterday. I’m finished, Buttercup,” he says, his fingers tangling in my hair, and he holds me close.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know how important football is to you.”

“I can’t remember you calling me sweetheart before. I like it.”

“I’ll make note,” I laugh, enjoying the feel of being in his arms and having him touch me.

“Do that. And, I’m not going to give up football completely. I have a few offers on the table.”

“You can’t play again, White. I won’t have you risking your health. It’s not that important. You can find something else you love; it will just take some time to adjust.”

“I didn’t mean playing, Buttercup. I have a few offers to coach, and I could always go into broadcasting. Lord knows those sports networks could use some colorful analysts that actually know about football.”

“As long as you’re happy.”

“I’d be happy if you and I didn’t have to leave this room.”

“God, me too.”

“I have one thing to ask of you, Kayla,” White tells me. I do everything I can to still the fear inside of me. This is White. I have nothing to fear with him.

“What’s that?”

“Someday, when you’re ready, you’re going to tell me what your stepfather did to you.”

“White…”

“I need to know, Buttercup.”

“It’s not what you’re thinking. He didn’t sexually touch me.”

“Thank God for that.”

“It’s… still, I don’t like to think about it or talk about it.”

“I’ll be here when you are ready.”

“Maybe we could get—”

“Fuck, White. You’ll never guess what Luka just found out for us,” Black says bursting through the door, and we both turn to look at him. He’s holding his phone in his hand and when he gets to us, the picture he has pulled up floors me.

Holy shit.

CHAPTER 62

WHITE

“What the hell is that?”

“It’s a fake belly,” Black answers, and I jerk my head up.

“A fake what?”

“The bitch isn’t even pregnant,” I growl, anger burning bright inside of me.

“Why?” Kayla cries, getting off my lap. I let her go grudgingly. Having her in my arms was making me feel almost alive again. These past few days have been some of the worst I’ve had in my life. I need her and I don’t even care if that makes me sound like a dumbass. It’s true. “Why would she do that? I don’t understand,” she adds. I stand up to pull her back against me, wrapping her in my arms.

“Because she’s twisted and completely crazy,” Black says. “Some people you can’t figure out, Kayla. I’ve learned that, if nothing else, in this line of work.” I hear a little whimper of pain leave Kayla, and I squeeze her tighter in reaction, wishing I could comfort her more.

“Why is she doing this? What could she hope to gain?” Kayla asks, and I run my fingers through her hair. Even as pissed as I am, I have to smile. She doesn’t see things like most people would.

“Buttercup, don’t you remember when the press announced how much money I got with the new contract I was offered?”

“What?”

“Right before I got hurt, remember? The press went wild with how much money I was being offered.”

“I never pay attention to that crap, White. You know that.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I do.” I laugh, reaching around enough to kiss her temple. “But most people do, especially people who are desperate for money.”

“Desperate?” she asks, confused and studying my face. I see the moment it hits her and I see outrage fill her face. “Rachel? She would do this for money? But why? She has to know you’d find out she’s not really pregnant! Plus, White, she doesn’t need that. I mean, she has money!”

“Correction: she had money,” says Black.

“What are you saying?” Kayla and I ask in unison.

“It seems sister dearest and dear old stepdad have run up quite a debt.”

“How?”

“Seems they both have picked up a bad habit of betting.”

“Betting?”

“Yeah. Sports, ponies… about anything you can bet on, they do it.”

“You found all this out in the short time you’ve been gone?”

“Well, I admit I had my suspicions before. So I’ve been looking into it. I just got confirmation when Luka called.”

“Well, I’ll be damned…” I say, amazed at all the shit that’s going on and what it boils down to.

“White, I’m so sorry,” Kayla whispers, turning around to look at me with tears in her eyes.

“Why are you sorry, Buttercup?”

“It’s my family doing this to you. I’m so—”

I put my finger to her mouth and cut her off. “Don’t even think it, Buttercup. You are not responsible for your sister and douchebag stepfather. What they’ve done is on them. That’s it, honey. It’s all on them.”

“But…”

“No buts. You cannot take this on.”

“Damn straight she can’t. The assholes have taken enough from you, Kay. Don’t let them have any more pieces of you,” Black grunts.

My hand tightens on Kayla’s hair at my brother’s words. I’m not going to lie; it annoys the shit out of me that he knows what went on between Kayla and her stepfather more than I do. I’ll get her to tell me, though. Sadly, it will probably be after I’ve had her family thrown in jail. Hopefully that doesn’t cause us more problems.

“What are we going to do with them?” she asks, her voice trembling. She looks at me and then Black. I feel nerves flutter in my stomach. Will she be able to accept how I handle this?

CHAPTER 63

KAYLA

“You’re sure about this, Kayla?” Black asks me again for the tenth time.

I wish he would quit asking. Mostly because every time he does, I question myself. White is standing off to the side, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, and I can feel the anger rolling off of him. He doesn’t want me here, and I understand why, but I insisted. I’m done hiding and I hate feeling weak. I’ve been weak. It was weak to lie to White about the birth control. It was weak to not confront Rachel sooner. It was weak to let memories of my past color the way I live now.

I don’t want to be that person anymore. White deserves better, our child deserves better… and I deserve better.

“I’m sure.”

“What time is Rachel coming again?” White asks.

I look up at the clock. “She should be here anytime. Do you really think she’ll bring my stepfather?”

“To get the fifty thousand you promised her? I’m sure of it,” Black says.

“If Kayla gets hurt, I’m going to kill you, Black,” White growls.

“We’ll be here the entire time. I swear, Kayla, I won’t let anything happen to you, but if you’re worried, we can call a halt to this. I’ll get them another way.”

“No. The easiest way to get them and make sure they never bother White again, or any of us, is for me to get them on tape. I can do this,” I reassure him. I look White in the eye so he can see that I mean it. “I can do this.” When he doesn’t respond, I walk over to him. “I’ve got this, sweetheart.”

“Now you give me the sweet words,” he grumbles, but some of the tension leaves his face.

“I’ll give you more tonight.”

“You fell asleep on me last night.”

“It’s not every day a woman finds out her family is even more twisted than she believed.”

“They’re not your family. We are.” This comes from Ida Sue, who walks in from the back door.

“Mom. Now’s not a good time.”

“You mean because you two lame-brains are putting my Buttercup in danger?”

“We’re not putting her in danger. I’m not letting her out of my sight,” White growls, pulling me closer. “How the hell did you find out anyway?”

“I told her,” Black answers surprisingly.

“What on Earth for?”

“Because unlike you, he knows better than to keep secrets from his Momma. I swear, White, I’m starting to wonder where I went wrong with you.”

“I told her because I wanted to make sure she stayed home and didn’t come at a bad time. She blew a gasket last night when she found out you took Kayla back to her home.”

“Damn straight I did. What were you thinking, making my baby travel when she had been so sick?”

“I thought you said the doctor said it was dehydration and you were okay?”

“He did say I was dehydrated. He also said I was perfectly healthy,” I rush to reassure him, feeling myself blush. I want to tell him what else the doctor said, but now is not the time. I need to take care of this first.

“Perfectly healthy,” Ida Sue grumbles, and I shoot her a look to tell her to hush. She rolls her eyes at me, but thankfully keeps her mouth shut.

“I truly am fine. Let’s just get this behind us and then we can concentrate on the two of us.”

“I do like the sound of that,” White says with a sigh. I lean up to kiss him. Just as we’re about to break apart, the doorbell rings.

“I guess that means it’s show time,” I tell him and hope I sound happier than I am.

“Let’s get this over with,” White growls, squeezing my hand. I look back at Black to reassure myself and he winks at me. I can see the stress on his face, though. He’s worried, and Ida Sue’s face mirrors his. It’s time to prove not only to myself, but to everyone I love, that I can handle my stepfather and Rachel. I’m not the scared little girl I used to be and I have my real family here to support me.

I can do this. I know I can.

CHAPTER 64

KAYLA

I walk to the door, trying to calm my nerves. I nervously straighten the turquoise maxi dress I’m wearing. I catch myself trying to adjust my hair, then clench my hands into fists, trying to clear my face of the anger and anxiety I’m feeling. I open the door, hoping I know what I’m doing. It helps knowing White, Ida Sue, and Black are all in the next room. Black has men out in the parking lot too, because apparently Rachel and my stepfather are so deep into gambling that they have warrants out for them in five states for various charges. I feel a little guilty, but then I remember how I was treated and I remember what they’re trying to do to White. Whatever happens to them, they deserve it. It’s not my problem or responsibility.

“It’s about time. Where’s the money?” Rachel growls.

I step back, opening the door wider. “Come on in. I’ve got it. There’s just some things we need to go over.”

“Hello, Kayla.”

I look at the monster that is my stepfather. I don’t understand it, but in my memories he seemed bigger, more imposing. Now looking at him, I realize we’re almost the same height. He might be an inch or so taller than me. He’s not covered with muscles or anything that would remotely make him seem imposing. His once-blond hair is more white now and his mustache is way too thick and long to ever be considered normal. It reminds me of those crazy seventies mustaches that look like handlebars. He’s wearing a brown cable-knit sweater and the same type of pants that remind me of a 1970’s nylon and polyester mix. He’s slimy and disgusting for sure, but nothing like the man who has visited my nightmares over the years.

“Kurt,” I mumble, saying the name I do my best to avoid. I wait for the sick feeling to hit my stomach. It always happens when I hear or say his name. It doesn’t now. Maybe Black is right and I’ve let my past color too much of my future.

“How did you manage to get your hands on 50K, anyway?”

“I cashed in my retirement,” I lie.

“Retirement? What the hell do you do? I always thought you’d end up turning tricks like your mom, but then again, your hips are way too wide.” He laughs snidely, and I turn away from him. There’s a thumping noise from the other room where White and everyone are and I wince.

“What’s that?” Rachel asks, looking in the direction of my spare room.

“I have a cat. I locked her in my bedroom and she’s not happy about it.”

“She sounds like she has a temper,” Rachel says, still staring in the direction of the room.

“You have no idea,” I sigh, and then to get her attention away from the room that everyone is hiding in, I take the plunge. “Why is your stomach smaller?”

“I’m dieting,” she says, as if she thinks I’m stupid enough to fall for the fact that her baby bump is completely gone. “I lost weight.”

“In a span of three days?”

“Are you paying me or not? I do have things to do.”

“Paying us,” my stepfather chimes in.

“Us, whatever. As long as we get enough money to get out of town and regroup,” Rachel growls.

I pull the folded check out of the pocket on my dress, watching the two people who made my life hell growing up.

“If I give you this, you promise to leave and stay away from White?”

“Poor little Kayla. How does it feel knowing you have to pay us off to keep your boyfriend away from your sister? I always told you that no man would ever want you. No one ever did—not even your mother,” Kurt replies, and now there’s that sick feeling in my stomach. It’s not as bad. It’s nothing like when he used to say those things to me and I was nine. It’s nothing like the pain I used to carry as a child wondering why I was never good enough.

Rachel rips the check out of my hand, reading it. “Let’s get out of here.”

“In a minute. I’m thinking it might be fun to play with Kayla here a little longer. She’s a little fat for my taste, but I could at least show her what a real man does with a woman.”

“Gross. She’s your stepdaughter.”

“There’s no blood kin, and let’s face it, she looks like she could use a good lesson.”

“If we don’t get out of here, Diego will find us, and I don’t think you want that,” Rachel warns him while I’m still trying to get over the disgust I feel from the look in Kurt’s eyes as he stares at me.

“Remember, you promised if you got that money, you’d leave White alone,” I tell them again, trying to remember what I needed to get them to admit aloud to help Black.

“Don’t worry, Kayla. I’ll disappear. It’s not like White’s going to do me a bit of good now that he’s been cut loose from the team. I don’t need another poor broke bastard tied around my neck. I have enough of that with—” Kurt slaps Rachel hard to stop her from talking. His face goes red with fury. The hit landed with such force that it knocks Rachel’s face to the side and immediately a red welt puffs up on her white skin.

“Watch your mouth! Your damned bet on the Cowboys is what lost us a fuck of a lot of money. I told you not to do it, but you had to prove me wrong and now look at the fucking mess we’re in!”

“Yeah well, I took care of it, right? Just like I always do,” Rachel hisses back, rubbing her face. “Diego wouldn’t be anywhere near us in the first place if you had kept your dick in your pants and didn’t rape his daughter. He’ll kill you now. I’d just rather not be around when he decides to do it.”

“Bitch was begging for it. Much like Kayla, here. Remember all those nights I used to lock you down in the basement Kayla? You’d cry for hours and beg for Daddy. I used to love hearing you. How about I show you what Daddy does these days to bad girls?” he says, grabbing my hand.

Before I realize what he’s doing, he has me slammed up against the wall. He’s so close, I can smell his liquor-soaked breath and another less defined repugnant smell… almost like sweat and musky dirt. I cry out from the pain on my wrist, my body tensing and getting ready to fight. Before I can, however, there’s a loud crash. I close my eyes, thinking Kurt is going to hit me like he did Rachel. It doesn’t happen, even when I hear Rachel’s scream. I open my eyes just in time to see my favorite blue ceramic vase crash down on Kurt’s head. Small pieces of chalk land on my shirt when I look up.

Ida Sue is standing there with a small ring of what is left of my vase. A clearly unconscious and hopefully-not-dead Kurt is in a heap between us. I look around to see Black is handcuffing Rachel. Then, my eyes find White. He walks the few steps that separate us, stopping only to deliver a hard kick to Kurt’s torso. It’s so powerful it half-lifts the man from the floor. Then he makes it to me, his hands going on either side of my neck with his thumbs meeting at my chin. He pulls my head up to look at him.

“You’ll never be around them again. They will not touch you again, Kayla. Never,” he growls.

Then he’s kissing me and all thoughts of Kurt, Rachel, and my past leave me. I’m lost in the man that I love more than life.

White.

CHAPTER 65

KAYLA

“I can’t believe my mother got to knock that son of a bitch out and I didn’t get my go,” White growls, yanking his shirt over his head and throwing it on the ground.

“You got to kick him,” I answer with a smile as I snuggle down into the covers. We’re in White’s home. I couldn’t stomach being in mine. I swear even after the paramedics hauled Kurt out on a stretcher and the cops took Rachel, I could still smell them in my house.

“Not good enough. I should have ground his nuts into the floor with my boot.”

“Mmm… you’re warm,” I tell him when he gets into the bed from behind me and instantly curls his naked body into mine.

“God, you feel good,” he moans, kissing my shoulder first before traveling slowly up the valley of my neck. Chills of need run through my body, especially as his hands move around me and cup my breasts. I can feel his erect cock pushing against my ass. I purr out loud, suddenly feeling surrounded by his warm heat and need for me.

“White,” I gasp as I feel his tongue slide to my ear, curling… teasing. “Please,” I beg and he bites my ear in response.

“No. You’ve been sick. I’ll take care of you soon.” He kisses my temple and snuggles deeper into me with a sigh like he’s going to go to sleep. Like I’m not going to notice the ten inches of hard steal pressing against my ass.

“I’m not sick,” I whine, pushing back into him and grinding against him so there can’t be any question what I want.

“You are, and it’s been a stressful day for you,” he says, slapping me lightly on the ass. “Quit tempting me before I spank you. I’m trying to take care of you.”

“I’m trying to get you to take care of me. And well, you can spank me. I think I’m turning into the kind of woman who likes that, as long as you are the one delivering the spankings,” I tell him honestly. With my history, that even surprises me. But I know I’m safe with White. I always will be. I finally understand that.

“It sure as fuck better not be anyone else,” he grumbles and then rolls over on his back. He pulls me so I’m lying over him. I quickly adjust myself so I’m straddling him and his cock is pressed right where I need it the most. Before I can lift up and guide him inside, he locks his hands on my hips and forces me to remain the way we are.

“Behave, woman.”

“I’m trying. God, your cock is so hot,” I moan. I may not be able to let him inside, but I can slide against his cock. Damn, that feels good.

“Kayla, honey, you’re killing me here. We need to make sure you’re okay before we have sex.”

“I’m okay. I’m more than okay. Quit worrying! The only thing wrong with me is that I’m really horny.”

“Can you give me tonight, please? I need tonight with you in my arms, holding you and making sure you’re okay.” I stare at him. Looking back, this will probably be the moment that convinces me the most that Black is right and I do need counseling, because out of nowhere, the old self-doubt and worries slam into me. I know my face pales because suddenly I feel really embarrassed for begging White to make love to me when clearly that’s not what he wants to do. Maybe he’s tired of me. Maybe I don’t have what it takes to… “Stop it, Buttercup,” White orders, yanking me from my thoughts.

“What?”

“I saw you second-guessing yourself. Stop that shit.”

“It’s just… I…”

“Do you feel how hard my cock is right now?”

“Well, yeah, but you’re a man,” I try to joke, feeling uncomfortable.

“I am. I’m your man and your pussy is sliding against my cock right now and coating me in your cream, and all I want to do is plunge deep inside of you and never leave. I’m holding myself back, because I need to know you’re okay. I want you healthy. That’s it. There’s no deep hidden reason I don’t want to make love; there’s no other reason other than I love you and it’s my job to make sure you are okay.”

“I told you I’m fine. I thought all in all, today went well and they’re out of our hair now. They can’t bother you again.”

“Is that all you’re worried about? Them bothering me?”

“I don’t want my family causing you problems, White.”

“Those people are not your family, Kayla,” he growls and I sigh. I slide off of him because clearly sex is the furthest thing from his mind. I know we have things to talk about, but I was hoping we could approach it when he was at least a little calmer and over the mess of the last few days.

“White—”

“I mean it. Sweetheart, those people are not your family. They’re slime that your mother failed to protect you from. You should have never in a million years been around them.”

“My mother stayed drunk too much to help. It doesn’t matter. It’s over now, White.”

“Yeah, it is, and it would have been over way before now, if you had told me. Why didn’t you tell me all the horrible things he did to you, Kayla? Why didn’t you come to me?”

“White, what you heard Kurt talk about was before you and I grew close. I was just a little girl.”

“Then why didn’t you talk to someone? Anyone?”

His question cuts deep. He doesn’t mean it the way it feels, but it makes me mad just the same. This is how everyone reacts when they hear about it. They don’t understand. They weren’t there. They didn’t live through the nights of feeling alone and unwelcome in the only home I’ve ever known. They don’t understand how it is to go to school with kids my age and hear them talking about their parents and all the fun things they did over the weekend. They didn’t live through the nightmares, the punishments from Kurt when I failed to clean or cook, things nine- and ten-year-olds should never be in charge of. They weren’t there when the belt cut into my skin because I had to be punished when Rachel’s food wasn’t prepared right. They know none of it, and as much as I love White, I don’t want to relive that and tell him. Not now, maybe never.

“What makes you think I didn’t try?”

“Because you were stuck with them until they left!”

“I tried, White. The system is broken. So much more broken than you could ever imagine. I tried telling teachers, doctors… even preachers. It didn’t work. No one listened, and if they did, Social Services would come out, deem Kurt was the perfect parent and he was dealing with a spoiled stepdaughter who wasn’t adjusting well to her mom not being around.”

“Motherfucker.”

“Yeah. So eventually I learned not to complain. It hurt less that way and I just did my best to get through each day. That’s it. Maybe that’s weak, maybe you see it as weak, but that’s all there is to it. I survived and then Ida Sue rescued me.”

“Kayla, sweetheart…”

“She showed me who a mother was. She made me feel cared for and loved and I vowed that someday, somehow, I would have a little girl and I would show her all the love in the world, all the love that I never knew existed until I got adopted by a crazy mixed-up woman who named all her kids after flowers and colors. I vowed that someday, if God just gave me the chance, that I would have a house full of kids and I’d name them after my favorite things in the world and there wouldn’t be a day that went by that they didn’t know how truly loved they were.”

“Kayla.”

“What?”

“Stop crying,” White whispers and he pulls me against him. It’s then that I realize I have tears running down my face and my body is shaking with the energy it takes to just breathe.

“I’m not crying,” I lie, burying my face into his chest and crying harder.

“Okay, Buttercup, if you say so,” he whispers, stroking my hair. I’m not sure how long we stay like that. Maybe it’s ten minutes, maybe an hour. I couldn’t say, but eventually my tears slow and then stop altogether. Slowly, my breathing returns to normal and I can feel nothing but White holding me, touching me… loving me. “We’re not naming any of our children after coffee.”

“What?” I ask, confused and pulling away from his chest to look at him. He once again moves me so I’m sitting over him, my legs on each side. He pulls himself up on the bed so he’s leaning against the headboard. He moves his fingers along my jawline, under my eyes, up the bridge of my nose and then to my forehead. My eyes almost close from his gentle touch.

“You love coffee. I’m pretty sure you love coffee more than you will ever love me, but there’s no way in hell that you’re going to ever name our children after coffee. You try to name our child Maxwell or Folgers and I will revolt, woman.”

I can see the teasing look in his eyes.  I take a shuddery breath and smile. “We can compromise.”

“Not on this.”

“That’s too bad,” I tell him, my hand going to my stomach. “I was hoping to name this little guy Keurig.”

“Oh, hell no! Wait… what?”

CHAPTER 66

WHITE

“That’s the reason I fainted. I’m pregnant. You’re going to be a daddy.”

You’re going to be a daddy… Those words rock me in ways I wasn’t prepared for. I’ve been spending so much time trying to make Kayla pregnant that I never realized how I’d feel when or if it finally happened.

“I thought you were taking birth control pills until recently?” I ask, afraid to believe what she’s saying. But inside, my brain is shouting just one thing: Kayla’s pregnant.

“I was, but remember when I got sick and the doctor gave me an antibiotic? Apparently that increases the likelihood of pregnancy. And, well, we have been going at it like rabbits according to Black, so…”

“You’re pregnant?” I ask her again.

“Uh huh.”

“And the baby’s okay? You’re okay? Why did you pass out?” I ask her, a million questions popping through my head, but three is all I can get out. I move to the hand holding her stomach and put mine on top of it. She’s not showing and I know it’s way too soon, but it’s almost as if I can feel our child there. Pride and love war in my heart and my entire body feels warm from the fight. I’m going to be a daddy. Kayla and I are going to have a child.

Kayla laughs, putting her other hand on top of mine, holding me closer to her stomach. There’s something that feels so right about this, almost as if we’re holding our child together.

“I was dehydrated and the stress hit me at the wrong time. But the doctor did a thorough checkup and both me and the baby are fine. More than fine. We’re perfectly healthy, I promise you.”

“You’re having our baby.”

“I am,” she says softly, tears and happiness mixing in her eyes. In that moment, it hits me how beautiful she is, how blessed I am.

“I love you, Kayla Lucas.”

“I’m not a Lucas.”

“You are in every way that counts and… fuck it. Let’s get married today.”

“What? Are you insane?”

“No. I want you to have my name. I want to be able to shout it to the world that you’re my wife.”

“White, you’re being crazy. We can’t.”

“Why can’t we?”

“Well, for one, Ida Sue will kill us.”

“She’ll get over it. Come on, sweetheart. Go crazy with me. Let’s get married.”

“You’re serious? You really want to get married today?”

“More than anything in the world,” I tell her honestly. Kayla stares at my face for a few more minutes as if she’s really deciding on just how serious I am.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Let’s get married!” she cries out, nodding her head in agreement. I might have just screamed “Yes!” at the top of my lungs. I’m not sure. I do know that I jump off the bed, taking Kayla with me, and I hold onto her as I spin her around. When we’re finished, I stare into her eyes, into the eyes of the one woman who owns me—body and soul—and I give her the words that I’ve never given another woman and never will.

“I love you, Kayla. With all of my heart, I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

“There’s that softness again.”

“I have my moments.”

“I’ll be looking for them.”

“Sounds like a plan. You better let me down unless you’re planning on us getting married in the nude,” she says, and I let her slide to the floor.

“As great as that sounds, I’d have to kill the preacher for looking at your body, so that might not be a great start to our married life.”

“Yeah, I’m all for conjugal visits, but I rather little Keurig get to know her daddy without the bars.”

“Kayla, you are not naming our child Keurig. I forbid it.”

“We’ll talk about it. We have about seven months to decide.”

“It’s already…?? Holy shit.”

“What?” Kayla asks, confused.

“We’re going to be parents in seven months?”

“That’s what they tell me.”

“We have to buy a house! We have to have a nursery and a big front yard. We’ve got so much to do.”

“Then I guess we better get busy.”

“Well, what are you waiting for, woman? Go get dressed!”

“Yes sir,” she laughs, heading off into the bathroom.

“Repeat those words to me tonight, Kayla Lucas, and I’ll make sure to reward you.”

She stops and turns to look at me, shakes her head, and gives me a full smile… a smile a man would fight a war to see every night.

I’m a very blessed man.

EPILOGUE

KAYLA

Two Years Later.

“There you are! We were getting worried. You’re late,” says White when I walk through the door. I stop for a minute, frozen by what I see. White’s lying on the floor with little Max pulling at his hair. She has her daddy wrapped around her fingers. This never gets old. No matter how many times I see it, it’s more precious, more beautiful every time.

“Mommy!” Max squeals and I laugh, bending down to pick her up as her chubby legs take off running towards me.

“How’s my pretty baby?” I coo, giving her wet kisses and making her giggle.

Ida Maxine Lucas is the light of her parents’ lives. She came into the world kicking and screaming, instantly demanding attention, and nothing has been the same since. I knew from the day we found out she was going to be a girl that I was going to name her after Ida Sue. The Maxine I demanded, just because White was convinced if we had a boy I was going to name him Maxwell. I had to show him it didn’t matter if it was a girl or a boy; I could still surprise him. He caved after a little bit of convincing—a job that I loved doing and was almost disappointed when he caved.

A lot of things have changed in the past two years. We’ve moved close to Ida Sue and the rest of the family. In fact, we’re just a few minutes away from Gray and CC’s. We have a big house with five bedrooms because White says we’re going to make sure we have the big family I always wanted, and we’ve both been working towards that. I smile as Calder walks in from the kitchen.

The adoption of Calder Lucas just became final last month. He was a boy who went to the school that I teach at now. He’s been living with us for a year, but it’s been a long and hard process to make him ours. He’s twelve and he’s been through hell and back, thanks to his drug-addicted parents who abandoned him. He’s slowly learning to open up and trust us though and his hero worship of White is growing every day. But then how can he keep from viewing White as a hero? He’s mine and that just becomes clearer the more time we have together.

“Hey, you’re just in time for dinner. Dad and I cooked together tonight,” Calder says and my heart stops and then beats erratically. My eyes flash to White and he’s grinning from ear to ear. I know we’ll talk about it more tonight, but right now, I have to act like nothing has changed, even though it all has: Calder just called White “Dad” for the first time!

“Good, I’m starved,” I tell him, trying to bite down the wave of emotion that is moving in me. “What are we having?”

“We made your favorite: cheeseburger macaroni,” Calder says, deadly serious.

“That sounds suspiciously like your favorite, but I’m starved so I’ll let it pass,” I joke. It doesn’t matter if it was sawdust, let alone Hamburger Helper. The fact that White moves mountains to take care of me and to make me feel loved and cherished, even after two years of marriage, ensures that it doesn’t matter what is served; if they made it for me, I’d still eat it. Knowing that Calder, who is now legally our son, helped make dinner just adds to that. I hug him and I don’t even have to bend down because even though he’s just twelve, Calder is almost the same height as me. He’ll be taller than White if he keeps this up, and it’s no wonder that he’s already on the radar of college scouts. It’s not football, but White couldn’t be prouder of Calder and he’s been shooting hoops with him and helping him any way he can.

“You look tired, sweetheart,” White says. He comes and takes little Maxie out of my hands and kisses me gently on the lips.

“Call-ber! Call-ber!” Maxie yells. She gets her D sounds and B sounds mixed up, but Calder doesn’t care. He takes her from White like the proud brother he always seems to be. He’s a beautiful child, tall and lean, with dark chocolate eyes and pale mocha skin. His mom was African American and his father was Italian, and the beauty of that mixes perfectly. He’s already got girls following him everywhere. I joke that soon I’m going to have to beat them away with a stick. What he doesn’t know is that I’m not really joking. White says he’s had a talk with him about it all. I hope it stuck, because if not, we’re in for a world of trouble soon.

I watch as the kids disappear into the kitchen and then I’m completely distracted as White takes me in his arms.

“I missed you today, Buttercup.”

“Only because it’s off season for Mason Texas High’s winningest football coach ever and you’re home early now.”

“A lot you know, Mrs. Lucas. I miss you every day.”

“I missed you too,” I whisper right before our lips meet. We break away a few minutes later and I want to protest, but I know the kids are just in the next room. Tonight, though…

“How come you were late? Everything go okay at the doctor’s?”

“Yep, everything’s perfect.”

“You sure? You felt awful bad last night. I was worried. I should have taken off today and brought you to the doctor myself so I could have made sure they checked you out better.”

“They checked me out just fine, worrywart. I’m perfectly healthy for a woman who’s three months pregnant.”

“Three months pregnant? Are you serious?”

“It seems like that promise you made to fill this house up is going to happen sooner rather than later, thanks to your super sperm and Ida Sue’s magic shakes you still keep drinking.”

“Hey, those things taste good after you get used to them.”

“You lie,” I laugh.

“Okay, I lie, but they at least deliver on the sperm count.”

“You’re crazy,” I laugh as his hand moves to my stomach to cup it.

“Another beautiful girl to spoil. I can hardly wait.”

“It could be a boy, you know.”

“Nope, it’s a girl. One you can’t name Keurig.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of Starbucks this time.”

“I don’t think I spank your ass enough.”

“You can make up for it tonight,” I tell him as we walk into the kitchen to our children.

“You can count on it, Mrs. Lucas,” he tells me, laughing. I stick my tongue out and start dishing out cheeseburger macaroni while Calder and White fall in line and Princess Maxie demands to be the center of attention.

As I watch them, I’m reminded of one of my favorite sayings and think of how true it is: I’m a woman blessed beyond measure.

And I am thankful.

The End.

Continue for a sneak peek into the next book in the series “Happy Trail” which tells Petal’s story!

Other work by Amazon Bestselling Author Jordan Marie

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Breaking Dragon

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Want to read a sneak peek into the next book in the series? Do you want to read a previously released book I released under my pen name Baylee Rose? Turn the page to read both!

HAPPY TRAIL

CHAPTER ONE

PETAL

“Petal, it’s your turn!”

“I’m coming,” I tell Mom. The last thing I want to do is be here at family bowling night. I tried everything short of telling her I was dying of a dreaded disease to get out of it. Even that wouldn’t have helped. When Ida Sue wants something, you either fall in line or run away. I can’t tell you the times I’ve wanted to run away.

Don’t get me wrong. I have an amazing mother. She’s funny, talented, fiercely loyal, and a loving parent. She’s strong as hell, too; she’s had to be because she raised nine children completely on her own. I admire and love her as much as I resent her.

“What’s wrong with you, Petal?”

“Nothing, Mom! I just had other things to do tonight. Things I canceled so I could make your family night.”

“Well, if you were going to be a grouch and try and ruin the whole night for everyone, maybe you should have just not shown up.”

“It’s Black’s birthday, Mom. Of course I’m going to be here. I just wish you had given me a little advance warning, that’s all.”

“I might have if you’d been home much the last few weeks.”

“I’ve been home every night, Mom.”

“Yeah, but I’m usually in bed by the time you roll in. Honestly, Petal, little River needs more structure than what you’re giving him.”

“Mom, everything I do is for River. Don’t start.”

“Is he the reason you’ve been talking to that man again?”

“That man is River’s father and he has a name, Mom. It’s Luka.”

“You say Luka, I say Puke-a,” she says with a shrug.

“Now who’s acting like a child?” I sigh. It’s an old argument. Mom has never approved of Luka and he hates her. The friction between them is just one of the many reasons my marriage imploded. Well, that and the fact that I should have never gotten married at seventeen. I was a child playing an adult and as a result I made all the wrong choices. Hell, I’ll be twenty-one in a couple weeks and I’m still making all the wrong choices.

“If you had listened to me to begin with, you would have never had him in your life.”

“Mom, I was pregnant—”

“Big-freakin-deal! You were sixteen and pregnant. That happens to a lot of girls. It’s not a reason to get married. He should have been arrested for messing with you in the first place and yet somehow here he is, the sheriff. If that isn’t the biggest joke in years.”

“Mom, he didn’t know I was sixteen. If he had, he never would have touched me.”

“So you say. I haven’t seen one thing out of Luka Parrish that tells me it’s true.”

“I don’t want to argue about this anymore, Mom. Luka and I are working together to make sure our son is happy. That’s it. That’s all it is,” I tell her, and the pang of pain that hits me is real. I’m not lying, even though I wish I was. River has been diagnosed with ADHD and also has some other problems. We’ve been meeting in the evenings to figure out how best to tackle them. I had him in daycare and he was kicked out for biting and hitting other kids. River’s not a bad child. He’s sweet as he can be at home, but around other kids, he becomes different. We need a solution soon, not only for my child’s sake, but because I need to go back to work. I can’t keep living with my mom, I can’t. Every time she puts Luka down, I want to scream. Luka has done right by me and River, despite all the shit I’ve put him through. He tried so hard to make our marriage work. He doesn’t know why I divorced him, not really. I won’t tell him. There’s no point. He’s eight years older than me, he’s sheriff now, and the last thing he needs is the local hippy’s daughter being a stone around his neck. I figure if I say that enough times, I’ll finally believe it. The real problem is that Luka hasn’t tried to convince me that we have a future in over a year now. Even the dinners we have are purely talking about our son. Being that near to him almost every night and not being able to touch him or find out what’s going in his life—or to just talk to him like we used to, man and woman, best friends—it’s slowly and painfully destroying me. I miss him.

With a sigh, I go to get my ball and get ready for my turn. The place is loud, but only made louder because the entire Lucas clan is out and about tonight, including Gray, CC, and the two-month-old babies Violet and William.

“There’s my girl! I thought you got lost,” Black says, wrapping his arm around my back as I straighten back up, holding the ball in my hand.

“Wrong, big brother. You were hoping I got lost because with this strike you and your silly team are going down, down, down.”

“You tell him, Petal!” CC calls out.

We’re playing girls against boys tonight, and it’s usually a lot of fun. It’s just tonight I wish I was having dinner with Luka. Even though we’re just discussing River, I live for those dinners with him lately—which admittedly, is not a good thing.

“Pride goeth before the fall, ladies. Tonight, it’s all about the boys!” White answers.

“That’s what you think, sweetheart. Boys drool and girls rule!” Kayla chirps up. I can’t help but smile. In the two months that her and my brother White have been married, she’s become a different person: confident, happy, and outspoken. Not to mention the fact that she’s sporting a pretty serious baby bump these days. As if my brother knows exactly what I’m thinking, he reaches down and rubs Kayla’s stomach and whispers in her ear. I’m not sure what he said to her, but the blush that blooms on her face makes me entirely envious of the two. They’re so much in love, it’s painful to watch.

“Stand back and watch poetry in motion,” I joke, trying to shake off my thoughts. I take my favored bowling pose, draw my arm back, and aim. I slowly bring it back, knowing I can make this strike and clench the game. It’s all mine.

Until…

“Luka!” I hear a woman cry.

My face jerks away from the lane and I search for the voice. There, standing across from me two lanes down, is Luka with the secretary in his office. He’s laughing with her, and that would be painful enough, but he’s got his arm around her as she leans over to give him a kiss.

It’s in that moment that my world ends. I don’t even realize that I dropped the ball until I turn to watch it slide down into the gutter.

Just like my life.

Coming spring of 2017!

UNLAWFUL SEIZURE

BAYLEE ROSE

1

Tess

I wake up with a migraine and feeling sick to my stomach. That is sign number one. Sign number two is my horoscope warning me I shouldn’t leave the house today. Sign number three is when I go outside to discover my old, beat up, 1990 something model Toyota, sitting on a flat. I’m stressed out already, and it’s only 7 am. I’m all set to call in sick when my boss calls me with his usual song and dance. I’m sick today Tessa. I really need to take the day off. Clear all my appointments. Make some excuse up for me. What he really means, is he and his wife are flying to Tahoe for the weekend. I know because Claire, the other secretary, let that little tidbit slip.

When I remind him that Judge Ryson appointed him as counsel in a case that was on the docket this morning, he goes silent. When I inform him it is a parole hearing and can’t be rescheduled, that sick feeling only increases. When he asks me to get Stuart to cover for him, we begin a ten-minute conversation on why Stuart is useless and will end up losing the case and destroying a man’s chance for freedom.

I’m not usually so concerned, I’m only a legal secretary after all, but his client today is Max Kincaid, and I’m more than slightly obsessed with this case. Max deserves someone who will actually try to get him free.

I shouldn’t be that concerned with this case. I should have kept my fat mouth shut because the next thing I know, Charles, my boss, has volunteered me to go before the parole hearing and present the case as his proxy.  I try every way in the world to stress that I can’t do it. I point out that Mr. Kincaid was unlawfully put in jail, and he needs a real attorney looking out for him.  I might as well have saved my breath.  His response was that I know the case better than anyone and Mr. Kincaid would best be served, with me, by his side.

“Tess you know the law inside and out. You can do this.”  Click.

That’s the only response I get from my final plea for him to do what the freaking state pays him to do. I really should have quit this job ages ago. I haven’t because I can’t afford to. I would have loved to go on to law school, but I put myself through school to get my paralegal license. Between working full time to try pay back student loans and carrying a full load of classes, there’s no way I could even contemplate law school.

I was stupid enough to think that I would get a job; just like that. Well, not completely stupid. I did get a job immediately—at McDonald’s and then later at Shoe Warehouse and Dollar Mart.  I had three jobs and still could barely manage to pay rent on my apartment.  It was also an apartment I barely saw unless it was to collapse on the bed to nap before my next shift started.

I was drowning in debt from school loans and so tired I could barely hold my eyes open.  When I walked into Charles Barger’s, and he offered me a paralegal position, it seemed like the answer to my dreams.

It turned out to be a nightmare.

It does keep a roof over my head though and those damn collection calls down.  That’s what I remind myself of again today as I put on my big girl panties and suck it up.   It’s a parole hearing and on a case I do, in fact, know inside and out.

I get my tire changed and head to the office, grabbing the files and things I will need for the hearing, then head straight for the federal prison in Ormond.  It takes a good hour to drive there, and the hearing is scheduled to start in forty minutes. That’s when yet another sign from the universe falls in my lap, in the form of a speeding ticket. Fuck my life!

I try to pay attention to my speedometer the rest of the trip, but it’s hard. My mind is swirling as I go over the facts I need to present to the panel.  My boss wasn’t lying when he said that I knew this case better than anyone. The truth is I’ve been consumed with Max Kincaid’s case. I must have read his file a thousand times. I know it’s not healthy. I do. I just can’t seem to make myself stop. I stare at his picture, and something about those dark, inky, onyx eyes call to me.  His features seem familiar, even though there’s no way that’s possible.

I’ve even memorized his information. Max Kincaid, age thirty-six, date of birth February 11, 1979. Dark black hair, black eyes, and three distinct scars. A small one above his right eyebrow, one on his side from an appendectomy he had as a teen, and one jagged scar on his chest he received in the line of duty as a soldier in the Middle East. Max is a hero, awarded the Purple Heart for heroism in battle when he saved his entire platoon from a mortar attack by driving straight into the line of fire and drawing it away from his men. He had more men offer to stand up for him during his murder trial than the judge would allow to testify.  By all accounts, Max was the golden boy, the man that women loved, and men wanted to be. His downfall came from loving the wrong woman, marrying her, expecting a child with her and then brutally extracting revenge for their deaths.

I lay awake at night recounting the facts of the case, and having my heart, break for the man who lost so much because of a decision filled with revenge. Truthfully, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have tried to do the same thing as he did if I were in his shoes. A part of me cheers him.  That’s why I’m doing this; but also find myself a little giddy at the chance to actually meet Max Kincaid and be close to him.

Claire, my co-worker, likes to joke that I’m halfway in love with the man. If she knew some of the dreams I’ve had, that involve Max, she’d be ready to call the men in white coats.

This is important. This could be the single most important thing I ever do.  Not only will I get to meet the man, but I also get the chance to be the one to right a wrong.  Yes, he killed a man, and yes, that is wrong. However, the circumstances of the case, the outstanding character witnesses that testified on his behalf and the fact that he has already served five years of his sentence without a single demerit or mark against him, all combine and tell me he should get parole. Now, if I can just convince the court of that.

I feel very strongly that he was wronged. I think I’m supposed to do this. I’m supposed to be the one to rescue him. That’s the real reason why I ignore the signs the universe keeps throwing my way. It’s also why I don’t let the fear that floods me when I drive through the prison gates, after checking in at the guardhouse, overpower me.

I go through all of the security points at the main entrance and have my files, purse and items searched. I manage only to be five minutes late and in the end that doesn’t matter since a couple members of the panel are running behind. That will give me a couple minutes to meet with Max…I mean Mr. Kincaid before the hearing and go over our battle plan.

“Could you have Mr. Kincaid brought down now? I’d like to confer with him before our hearing.”

“You’ll have to wait here until I have the prisoner brought in and settled,” the guard tells me.

“I…okay. That’s fine. I’ll just wait here, shall I?” He doesn’t reply and goes out.

My heart is beating out of my chest.  I need to move past my excitement of getting to meet Max Kincaid and get my mind onto obtaining his freedom for him.  It’s another ten minutes; which only serves to increase my nerves, before the guard comes back and escorts me in.  For a minute, I think I stop breathing. Max is sitting at a table, and if I ignore the orange jumpsuit, he looks even better than he did in pictures. His black hair is straight and lays lazily on his head, making it look like someone has lovingly run their fingers through it.  His dark eyes pin me immediately and with such intensity it takes all I have not to falter when walking towards him.  His large hands are lying on the table with chains around them. I know that is normal procedure, but on him it feels wrong.

I don’t know what I imagined our first words would be to each other. In my daydreams of Max, I think somewhere in the back of my mind I thought we’d meet, and I’d rescue him and he’d be the one. The man who would understand me, who would just…fit me. I thought somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind he might recognize that feeling when he saw me for the first time, too.  It sounds all kinds of stupid and juvenile and normally I’m not that kind of woman. I don’t know why I am where Max is concerned.

All of those wishes and silly dreams are blown out of the water when his harsh, barking voice rings out and stops me in my tracks.

“Who the fuck are you?”

2

Max

I’ve given up on hope. Hope doesn’t exist. It hasn’t since five years ago when I heard the sound of cold metal slamming shut, and I began my stay at the Ormond County Correctional and Rehabilitation Institution. Hope left that day, and it hasn’t returned. Life took on the dull gray color of the prison itself, and I became a creature who didn’t live. I only existed.

Today is my parole hearing. My fourth to be exact. It doesn’t mean shit. They’re not going to set me free. That doesn’t happen when you kill a man. I don’t give a fuck. I find I don’t give a fuck about anything these days. I haven’t in a long time. I won’t get parole because every time a bunch of stiff-necked suits ask me if I feel remorse for my crime, I laugh.

I killed the man who murdered my wife. She was a whore. I didn’t love her, didn’t even like her.  But I did love the child she was carrying. So I hunted him down, and I squeezed the life out of him with my bare hands. I watched as, bit by bit, the light drained from his eyes and just when he was about to die, I let the pressure off his neck and allowed him to gasp another breath. Then, I did it again. Rinse and repeat until finally I ended the motherfucker. I relished it. I spit on his corpse as I let him fall to the ground. I didn’t feel remorse. Shit, no. Instead, I got the first fucking hard on I’d had in months.

A machine-made sound buzzes and the retracting of my cell door begins. I stand there as Officer Jenkins comes into view. He’s a cocky asshole who gets his kicks out of beating prisoners, just because he can. I tower over him. Hell, I could snap him like a fucking twig. I’ve always restrained but as he looks at me a sneer on his face and spits at my shoes, I can’t help but wonder if two murders would send me to hell quicker? It might be worth the gamble.

“Let’s go, cupcake. Time for you to go and beg for freedom like the candy-ass you are,” he says, grabbing my arm and pulling me in front of him.

I don’t say anything; I don’t even change my facial expression. This piss-ant ain’t nothing to me. If I liked him, even marginally, I’d warn him there is a prison riot and break out planned for today. I might even go one step further and tell him he’s the one Hernandez, and his crew are planning on beating the shit out of. Hell, I’d even warn him about the jagged Coke bottle they had smuggled in and have been fixing up, just for his lily white ass.  I don’t. The ass-reaming he’s going to get couldn’t happen to a nicer guy. We walk down a long hall, surrounded by prison cells on each side. I ignore the yelling, questions, and catcalls. I have a reputation as someone you do not fuck with, in this joint. That’s good enough for me.  Hernandez tried to get me to join his crew for the breakout. I didn’t. There’s nothing waiting for me outside these doors, not a fucking thing.

We make our way to the last set of steel doors, and they slide open as the guard on the other side lets us in. I’m escorted into an elevator where another guard joins us. I forget this one’s name. Byron or something like that, pretty decent guy. I’d warn him, but then he’d feel obligated to stop it, and that wouldn’t be good for me. So I don’t. My conscience has been colored gray like these fucking walls, too.

The small room where they hold the parole hearings hasn’t changed; neither has the smell. The smell of the prison permeates every inch of the place. If there is one thing I hate the fucking most about this place, it is the stink of it.

I’m placed at a small table that will face the panel.  It’s a familiar routine. There will be a bunch of tight assed, fancy dressed assholes, who look as if my presence offends them. They’ll have to get in fucking line. My presence offends my own damn self.

I’m waiting for everyone to show up when she walks in.

Fucking hell! Who let her in here?  She walks through the door looking lost.  She is. She’s a damned baby thrown into an angry tank of sharks. She’s going to get eaten alive. She has hair the color of coffee, creamy and rich. It’s pulled on top of her head and wrapped in a bun. I’m sure it was meant to give her a matronly appearance. It does not. It exposes her neck and makes the beast in me want to bite into it while I bend her over the damn table she just put the briefcase on. She’s wearing black, dress pants that hug her slim thighs and a red silk shirt. I can’t even remember the last time I had sex and one look at her, and my dick is ready to come for days. Come all over her, to be exact. A picture of her bare-ass naked and covered in my jizz, from her thick apple lips to her fuck-me stilettos, cements in my mind.

“Who the fuck are you?” I bark at her, annoyed at the way my dick is standing at attention.

“I…I’m Mr. Barger’s paralegal,” she stumbles, her eyes widen in surprise, with a healthy dose of fear mixed in when she looks at me.

“Who the fuck is Mr. Barger?” I ask, doing my best to ignore the way her shirt exposes the mounds of her breasts when she bends over to look through her papers.

“Your lawyer, he was unavoidably detained. I’m here to stand in…”

“I don’t have a fucking lawyer!”

“The court appointed Mr. Barger to appear on your behalf.  Now, if you’ll give me just a few minutes, we can get started. There are some things I’d like to go over with you before I address the panel.”

“I don’t want you addressing the panel,” I respond, and when she looks like she’s going to argue with me, I look at the guard who stayed to monitor me.  “I don’t want her talking on my behalf. I want her gone.”

“Really Mr. Kincaid, if you would just…”

“Lady, my name is Max or Inmate number 91428, not Mr. Kincaid.”

“Fine, Mr. Kincaid, I mean Max, if you will just allow me to…”

“I don’t want counsel! I decline it. Now get the hell out.”

The guard finally stands up. Jesus, maybe he’ll do something. I need this little lamb out of here before the animals start to attack and eat her alive. She needs to be gone before we go into a full-blown riot. It would appear my conscious is not totally dead.

“Is there a problem?”  The useless guard asks. If I weren’t worried about getting this chick out of here, I’d stop to roll my fucking eyes.

“Not at all officer. Please have a seat,” the woman interjects. “Now as I was saying, Mr. Barger was called out of town with an emergency. I am the one in the office most familiar with your case, and he sent me, in his place. I’m Tessa Oliver, now if we could get started.”

“It would appear that the prisoner does not want your counsel, Ms. Oliver,” the guard says.

Gee ya think? Dumbass.

“No, he just didn’t realize…”

“Damn straight I don’t,” I interrupt before she can finish.

She looks back at me with shock, and there’s a fiery glint in her eyes that tells me I’ve just pissed her off.  That might have been interesting had the alarm not sounded right then. She looks in the direction of the noise.

“What is…?” She asks.  The guard, who already knows what the alarm means, breaks every rule in his training and runs out of the small room, leaving me alone with the woman.

“What’s going on?” She questions again, and this time she looks pale and scared. She should.  I take a deep breath.

I didn’t want this. I have no fucking use for the game that’s about to be played.  It’s too late; the die has been cast. If I leave her on her own, she will be dead or wishing for death by nightfall. I stand up. I’d be lying if I said my dick wasn’t twitching at the way I tower over her small, delicate frame, or at the way her eyes widen in real fear as she tries to step back from me. My hands are in shackles so I do the only thing I can. I take them both and lift them over her head and pull her back into me, letting the heavy chains rest on her chest and against her neck.

“You have just become a prisoner in a prison break.”

Her cry of fear competes with my growl of anger.

Fuck.

3

Tess

I can’t stop the scream that comes out of my mouth when Max wraps his arms around my neck. All those signs the universe sent out, telling me it was going to be a bad day, telling me not to leave the house? I really should have listened. I see it now, but did I before? Of course not. I was living in a dream world. Where I have been living, since I first heard Max Kincaid’s story. Instead of listening, I went forward, guns blazing, when what I should have done was tell my damned boss to cover his own stuff. Did it matter to him that a paralegal was not an attorney, and his clients were getting short-changed? Not in the least. Did it matter to him that the judges I would stand before would rake me over the coals, get pissy and ruin my day further by pointing out that I didn’t have the credentials necessary to stand before them and defend these people? Hell no!

I should have quit. I didn’t. Heck, I should have never taken the job five years ago, when I walked into the place. I did. I couldn’t afford not to. I was days away from living on the street and Curtis Barger, L.L.C. knew that. He knew it and leapt on it like the shark he was.

He used it to his advantage, and when he didn’t want to do something, it was Tessa Oliver to the rescue. When an appeal he was supposed to have been working on for freaking months was due the next day, and he had nothing done? Good old Tessa didn’t need sleep; she’d do it. When he was due at a maximum security prison for a parole hearing of a convicted murderer? Fucking Tessa Oliver would hike her ass there to defend him and get her dumb ass killed in a fucking prison riot! Fuck, fuck, and fuckity fuck!

Why did I think Max was special? I knew nothing about him! And for the love of all that is holy, why didn’t I quit? Living on the streets would have been better than dealing with this shit. So, I would have been forced to live with Winfred, the homeless alcoholic who begged the local businesses on Main Street for money. Reeking from not bathing since Ronald Regan was president and urine—yes, he smelled of urine. Lots of urine. Still, even that was preferable to this. What good is dying smelling good, if you still fucking die?

“Now you’re going to do as I tell you, Tess, or you’ll die. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I squeak. Turns out when you’re being held captive by a convicted killer, you can’t speak due to the fear coursing through your system. Who knew?

“You don’t talk to anyone, especially the other inmates. You don’t even look at them. You keep your head down, your eyes on your feet and you only speak when I tell you to. Do you understand?”

Oh hell, he’s taking me into the prison break? I want to scream at him. I want to yell, stomp and throw a temper tantrum that would impress any two-year-old child. I do none of those things. Although, I must admit I’m starting to see why Winfred smells like urine. I really need to pee. Since I didn’t even get time for my pumpkin spice latte this morning, I can only assume it’s a byproduct of fear.

I don’t answer, and I guess he takes my silence as agreement because he pulls me to the door that the worthless guard ran out of. He stands there for a moment looking around.  For what, I have no idea. The place is loud with sirens, people yelling, and gunfire. Suddenly that urge to pee becomes stronger.  I should probably start praying now. It’s not like I’m a bad person, but I don’t go to church. I’m not even sure I know how to pray. Hail Mary full of grace?  Bless me father for I’ve sinned? Shit, do you need to be Catholic? I’ve watched too many Godfather movies!

We go about ten feet into the valley of death, when I scream. It’s not a little scream, but a big one and barely heard over the noise surrounding us. I look down at the lifeless guard at my feet. He might have left me alone, but I didn’t want him to die. Mr. Kincaid, aka the prisoner, aka Mad Max, aka the harbinger of my death, puts his large hand over my mouth. It goes kind of silent around us. Who knew I was screaming that loud?

He leans down, his mouth against my ear and his voice a deep rumble and eerily calm. “Don’t make me knock you out. I will. Now, keep that pretty mouth of yours shut and stand against the wall. Don’t scream, don’t move. Our lives depend on you doing exactly, what I say.”

I swallow nervously, tears stinging my eyes. I nod once. He removes his hand from my mouth, taking his arms away and then pushes me roughly against the wall.  He leaves me alone and bends down to rummage around the guard. I look around and carefully take two steps away. If I can just make it to the door we came through and back to the safety on the other side…

His voice stops me. I turn at the sound, and he’s pointing a gun at me. The mixture of the chains on his hand, the slick black gleam of the gun and the bright orange prison jumpsuit terrifies the hell out of me. I stand still—not because he told me to, but because I am literally petrified, frozen in my fear. He motions me, using the gun as a pointer.

“Search his pockets and belt. Find the key to my chains,” his gruff voice commands. I look at him like he’s crazy.

“He’s dead!” I tell him the obvious.

“Exactly, I’m sure he won’t give a damn if you dig around, hunting for a key.  I would do it myself, but since you can’t seem to follow orders, you get the pleasure.”

“I can’t touch him! He’s dead!” I exclaim again.

“You can either do it or join him. It’s up to you.”

My face goes white. I know, because I feel the cold, clammy sweat break out over my body.

“Listen, Mr. Kincaid, I’m sure…”

“Lady, you need to stop your damn chatter and find the key or else he’ll be stinking as well as dead. I don’t know if you’ve had the pleasure of smelling a rotting corpse, but trust me when I tell you, you don’t want to do that.”

I want to say no again, but I’m pretty sure he’s not kidding about me joining the guard. So I bend down and start trying to find a key ring.

“Why the hell didn’t I quit? I swear, if I make it out of this alive, I’m going to make it my personal mission to have every fairy tale ever written removed from libraries for misleading kids. Next, I’m going to march into the office and tell my boss to go fuck himself! Then, I’m going to tell his wife what a freaking, bitter-ass pill she is and how they can take this thankless job and stuff it up their asses. I don’t care if I do smell like piss and have to hug up to the likes of Winfred at night. I am done. D-O-N-E.” I’m mumbling under my breath without even realizing I’m doing it.

I gasp when Max starts laughing because honestly there is nothing remotely funny about any of this.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Do you always talk this much?”

I look at him confused, having no idea what on earth he is talking about. I decide to ignore him as my hand finds a key ring hanging from the guard’s belt. I try to pull it off, but it just extends and then pulls back.  With a heavy sigh, I go to undo the man’s belt.  “I’m sorry about this; you gave your life today and…”

“You do realize he can’t hear a damn thing you’re saying?”

I have to push and prod the body to get the belt off. “I’m not stupid; I talk when I’m nervous. You could help you know!” I huff. I figure I’m going too far. He’ll probably kill me at any minute. I know it’s an issue, but I do talk when I’m nervous. I can’t control it. One of my foster mothers used to say I had verbal diarrhea. She was a bitch.

“Just hurry.”

Just hurry. I mimic him in my mind; though I’d really like to do it out loud. Once I manage to get the belt free, I stand. I stumble once because my legs feel like jelly. My hand is shaking when I reach for the lock. I tilt my head forward and to the right to dodge the gun. I can almost feel the cold metal.

“Don’t you dare shoot me,” I grumble, continuing to go through the twenty plus keys on the chain.

“You’re awfully bossy for a hostage,” his dark voice rumbles. “And who is Winfred?”

I freeze—yet again. I think about explaining, but I ignore him instead. Finally, I find the right key and the metal lock opens.  The shackles slowly fall to the ground. I jump at their heavy clang. Before I can run, he grabs me by the elbow and starts pulling me toward the chaos.

“You know you might come off hot and sexy on paper, but in person you are the Devil.”

He grunts and continues to pull me along. I want to argue, but I know it’s useless.

“Remember what I told you. Keep your head down and only speak when I give you permission.”

I bite my lip to keep from begging him to let me go and let him pull me along. At least he’s partially blocking my body. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and a stray bullet will take him out. A girl can hope, and I ignore the twinge of guilt I feel. I can’t still be infatuated with Max after this, surely. That would truly mean I’m insane.

After I sneak a look around the first area we enter, I change my mind. All around me are guards, dead, unconscious, or bleeding and tied up. Prisoners surround them, with guns pointed and ready. It’s like a scene from a Bruce Willis movie. I may never watch another one of those again.

“Who do we have here, Gringo?” A heavily laced Spanish accent asks, and I suddenly remember, very vividly, that I was told not to look up. I have no problem with that. In fact, I think I’d love to bury my head in the sand at the moment.

“My lawyer,” Mad Max replies and the way he says it, it sounds like we really know each other.

“Damn, Max you know how to pick em. Send her my way and give me a little taste of that honey.”

I’m keeping my head down, but I can see him reach for me out of the corner of my vision. I can’t help but stumble back against my captor. Suddenly, he feels a lot safer than the other possibility here.

“No way, Hernandez. This is my private pussy. I’m about to go through that tunnel you guys made, get the fuck out of dodge and get my dick wet for the first time in years.”

His words make my body lurch with a sick feeling of dread. Mocking all those stupid girlish fantasies I had, in ways this situation hasn’t yet. Why did I think Max was a safer choice? It dawns on me that there is no safe place. I am probably going to die. The only question will be, what will happen to me beforehand?

“I thought you had no interest in leaving? I believe you told us to fuck off when we asked for help.”

“I’ve changed my mind, and since I didn’t rat your asses out, I figure I did my part.”

“This is where we disagree. I think you owe a little more than that,” the Spanish guy says, as he moves his hand to my cheek and wrenches my face up. It hurts and tears sting my eyes. My nails bite into the thick, muscled arm of Max.

That’s when I see the Max who committed the murder. His hands move so fast; it’s a blur. He grabs the other guy by the neck and slams him hard against the wall. The guy’s feet are a good two inches from the ground. Max moves his face in close to the other guy, and his voice is so cold, chills move through my body. It feels as if the air around me has dropped a good twenty degrees. Max is that deadly now.

“In what universe did you think it was okay to touch what is mine, Hernandez?”

“Easy, Gringo. Easy!  I was just playing.  No harm, no foul.”

“Wrong. You put your hands on my property. The way I look at it, now you owe me, asshole.”

I watch as he wraps one of his hands around the guy’s neck. I remember reading in his files exactly how he killed the other man. My stomach rolls with the knowledge. I can tell by the way the man gasps that Max is applying pressure. I want to tell him to stop. I’m scared. I’m not sure what to do. The other man’s face is starting to turn blue.

“Max…” I whisper, starting to reach out to him and get him to stop.

He lets go and steps back. The other man holds his neck and gasps for air.

“I’ll be using that tunnel now,” Max says, and the guy doesn’t answer. I’m not sure he can. He nods and steps to the side. That seems to satisfy Max, and he grabs my arm and pulls me further into hell. I follow on weak legs.

Heaven help me, I follow.

4

Max

I don’t talk to the woman as we make our way to the tunnel. Hernandez’s crew that is on the outside bribed some guards into getting them the tools needed to make a tunnel through the back of the prison. The tunnel exits against the security fence that surrounds the prison. The men arranged it so their buddies would disable the fence’s electric charge, and the wire would be cut enough for a person to slide through.

I have no idea why Hernandez and the others aren’t already breathing fresh air instead of racking up more time and a possible death penalty to what they already have marked against them. There’s no fixing stupid; if life has taught me one thing—it would be that.

“Wait a minute,” the woman says coming to a stop in front of the tunnel opening.  She has a sexy body, and her voice makes my dick want more, but she’s starting to grate on my nerves. Does she have no survival instincts? I breathe out loudly to show her my frustration.

“Lady, we have maybe three or four minutes before all hell breaks loose, and this tunnel will be filled with some of the filthiest assholes you will ever come across. I might have contained Hernandez, but if he gets his buddies with him, you have to know they will get you. Now either move your ass or prepare to be gangbanged by men who haven’t had their hands on a woman in years, let alone one that looks like you. Your choice, but I’m not sticking around for the party.”

I walk into the tunnel and hope she wises up enough to follow me. Contrary to what I just said, I won’t leave her, but I sure as hell don’t want to have to carry her out of here either. She must decide that I am serious because, after a few minutes, I hear her behind me.

“Wait up, Mr. Kincaid. Please? I…I well…you see…”

“Spit it out, lady.”

“I have a slight fear of dark, narrow places.”

I rub the back of my neck to release some of the tension gathering there. I wouldn’t even be in this situation had she not shown up. I’m starting to think I would have done better if I had taken her out through the front and let the cops waiting on the other side shoot me.

“A slight fear?”

“Okay. Gigantic. Enormous. Epic proportions. Like if you make me walk through this tunnel, I will most likely die half way through from fright. People can die from fear, you know. I watched a documentary once. In some cases do you know that even the person’s hair gained a white streak?”

“Are you telling me that your slight fear of dark, narrow places is bigger than your fear of being gang raped by ten or fifteen of this state’s worst convicted felons on record?”

She gasps and then surprises me by grabbing my hand. I stand there trying to make out her face in the darkness.  “Well? Get a move on!  I think it only fair to warn you, Mad Max, that if I survive this, I will be telling the parole board that you should be denied.”

I haven’t smiled in years. A small one ekes out. It feels weird, and the muscles involved haven’t been used in so long they feel stiff.  Hell, so is my dick.  I don’t understand my reaction to this woman. It’s probably just because I’ve been without one for so long. When I get free, I’m gonna hunt one up and get laid, before getting locked back up. I can feel Tess tremble beneath my hold, and her breathing is ragged. I know she’s terrified of the tunnel, but her reactions remind me even more of sex. This keeps up, and I’m going to have trouble walking.

We get to the outside, and I look around. The sirens are loud, and you can hear guns and shouting, but it’s in the distance and off somewhere to the right. I pull Tess the opposite direction and just like the men discussed in the cell next to me, the hole in the fence is there.

“Slide through,” I order.

She looks at me, back to the small opening, shakes her head and then slides through.  I push the fence out, knowing it will be a tight fit getting through. I’ve barely started when Tess takes off, running down the small grassy area between the hill and the fence.  I growl out in frustration. I should let her go, I have no use for her, and she’s the reason I’m in this mess. For some unfathomable reason, I don’t. I rush through the fence. I grimace, at the pain I feel when the fence slashes into my stomach, but don’t give it much thought. Instead, I run to catch up to Tess, before she gets away. The simple truth is; I don’t want to let her go yet.

“I don’t think so, Kitten,” I tell her, wrapping my hand around her arm.  She huffs when I pull her back around to face me.

“You don’t want to do this, Mad Max. I’ve read your folder. You’re not a bad man; you were most likely going to get your parole today. You don’t want to add kidnapping and attempted escape onto your record. Let me go.”

I ignore her plea and lead her the opposite way she was going. I pull us close to the building. If there are any guards left in the towers that the men didn’t overpower, I want it to be hard to spot us. The line of grass we have to walk on gets smaller as we reach the creek bank.  We must cross it to get into the swampland beyond.  As I direct her to the edge of the water, she pulls against my hold.

“What are you doing?  We can’t go through that water, we don’t know how deep it is, and that’s swampland beyond it. You do know we’re in Florida right?  The state, alligators freaking love?  We’d have to be insane. We should hit the main road.”

“Hush it, Kitten. This is not a democracy. Now button it and go through the water.”

“I can’t swim,” She says, eyeing the water.

“Of course you can’t.” I sigh and then bend down and wrap my arms around her thighs, tossing her over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry.  I feel a small, stinging pain from the cut I got earlier and a wet feeling where my shirt meets the cut. I ignore the pain because I feel her nails dig into my back, and that feels fucking good.

“Wait, can we talk about this? I really, really don’t want to go into the water. I can’t swim! What if you fall? I’ll drown. I’m a rock in the water.”

“I’ll catch you,” I huff, letting the cold water cool my body. It’s October and for Florida it has been unseasonably cool.

“That’s great, Mad Max, a perfect plan, except you will have already fallen into the water?”

I ignore her and slog on through. She starts beating my back, kicking her legs. My prison-issue shoes have slick bottoms, and I start slipping. The water is up to my waist, and I’m doing my best to keep her under control.

“Max! I’m going to drown, switch me around! The water is close to my face!”

I don’t see how since she’s barely over my shoulder, but I shift her so that I am cradling her against me. I like having her weight in my arms.  I bury that thought. My life is over. I can’t go back and wouldn’t even want to.  I’m about to get her settled when she tilts too far to the right and my foot slides against the rocks underneath. I shift the opposite way, but can’t correct quickly enough, and we fall into the water.

It takes me a minute to get my bearings and before I can, Tess’s foot, still wearing the pointy ass heels, pushes into my side and she’s swimming back the way we came. I try to catch her, to keep her from getting away from me, but I fall back down. Fucking hell!  I finally get back up and manage to grab hold of her leg and pull her back to me. Her head goes under, her arms beating against the water as she flails and tries to break free of me. Back over my shoulder she goes, and I don’t bother being gentle this time. I’m mad, and she’ll know exactly how mad as soon as we get to the other side. Can’t swim my ass! Afraid of the water!  Damned little liar.

She squirms harder against me, and my anger is already amped up high. I brace my feet against the sandy bedrock of the lake. Then I shift her back against my chest, but not in a protective sense this time. I use one hand to grab her hair, most of which has fallen from the clasp she had it in. I wrap it around my fingers and pull her head back hard, so she’s looking at me. She inhales from the pain, her eyes open wide as she looks at me. Lucky for her, she keeps her tongue in her mouth.

“You’ve just bought yourself a world of trouble, Kitten,” I growl, pulling her hair even tighter just to get my point across.

5

Tess

My heart is hammering in my chest. I’m breathing hard from the exertion of trying to get away from Max, but the fear rising in me has more to do with the look in his eyes.  Still, there’s another reason.  The feel of his hands in my hair, the clinching of his muscles around my body as he holds me to him, and the forceful way he has grabbed me, they all combine to excite me. How can anything about this excite me? How can I still have any kind of feelings for Max? What in the hell is wrong with me?  He kidnapped me during a prison break. Kidnapped! I am a grown woman, with a history of working in the law field. I know better than most, what kind of people get put away in jail. Yet, I still managed to get infatuated, with a man I didn’t know. Infatuated with a convicted felon who kidnapped me and is threatening me. That reminder should wake me up. I find it doesn’t.

I don’t know why Max’s file spoke to me the first time I read it, but it did. It was heartbreaking.  While I certainly can’t condone his actions, a part of me sympathizes with him and even understands his reasoning. When I looked at his pictures, something in his eyes felt like he was looking right at me. I know that sounds insane. It’s still true.  Meeting him in person should have pulled me out of my dreamland. Meeting him like this, definitely should have. So what’s wrong with me?

He scares me, more than a little. He also intrigues me. My mind is whirling with all these feelings and questions and a healthy dose of panic mixed in, maybe that’s why I keep quiet. Maybe it’s because I know I’ve pushed him too far. Whatever it is, I don’t say another word until we make it to the other side of the water. He falls, somehow being careful not to let me hit the ground. I’m cocooned in his body. I can’t help, but take note of how he protects me with just that simple gesture. It reinforces that I’m safe with him. I’ve mouthed off to him constantly, and he’s not done one thing about it. In fact, had he not kidnapped me, I don’t think I would have survived the prison riot and break out. I can still remember the look in that other man’s eyes as he touched me. If I didn’t already have chills running through my body from the water, just that memory alone would be enough to chill me to my bones.

Max moves me off of him and rolls away on his back, breathing hard. As further proof that I’m a little nuts, I instantly miss having him under me. I lie on the ground looking up at the crystal blue sky, praying the sun warms me. My thoughts are spinning, and I have no idea what to do or say now. That’s when I feel his large hand wrap around my ankle. I jerk and sit up watching him as he breaks the heel off my hundred dollar, Nine-West, gladiator heels that I got on sale for forty-nine dollars.  I was so proud of those shoes! I mourn their loss and want to kill Max for destroying them!

“What are you doing? Those are my favorite shoes, you moron!”

He watches me as he throws the heel into the water. It lands with a plop, and before I can jerk my other foot away, he repeats his actions. I am getting ready to unleash the fires of hell, like only a woman who lost a beloved pair of pumps can, when he jerks me so that I am forced to roll over on my stomach. I raise my head up, or else I’d be eating marshland. I put my hands on either side of my body and try to push up so I can get away. He doesn’t allow that. Instead, what he does next, takes my breath.

He roughly handles me so that my lower half is arched over his body. Somehow, and I don’t even know how, he reaches his hand under and unbuttons my slacks and then crudely pulls them down exposing my ass. None of this is gentle in the least, especially since my clothes are wet and trying to stick to my body. I want to scream, I might have. I’m just not sure. I’m definitely in shock. That’s surely the only reason why I’m not kicking and screaming to get away from Max. His large hand lands on my exposed ass and the impact of his hand on my skin resonates around us. I’m wearing my pink, no line briefs that rise high on the ass and feel like silk. They’re my favorite pair, and I’ve loved them up until this point. Yet, with the contact of his hand, half on the skin of my buttock and the half on the silk, it stings badly. I inhale at the pain and try my best to wiggle away from him, but Max clamps one hand down on my lower back and makes it impossible for me to move. He delivers another slap, and the tears sting my eyes.

“Don’t do this Max, I…”

Slap.

“Max!”

Slap. Slap.

I stop protesting.  Something in the way he delivers his reprimand lets me know that objecting will only make it worse. The contact burns and the cool air hitting my skin only makes that worse. But somewhere around eight or ten spankings, it stops being something I endure. The pain is there, but it’s different. He’s careful to never hit the same spot twice, he just grazes as his hand hits a different area each time. When the last sound of his hand connecting on my ass is ringing in my ears, and nothing else happens, I find my body reacting against my will. My ass pushes up into the air, searching out his touch, wanting it—needing it.  He spanks me again, and I bite my lip. It doesn’t stop the moan that escapes.  His rough hand moves over my ass, caressing it, almost as if praising me. I’m confused by my response. I’m aroused and ready to beg for more. I should be terrified. I’m not. He slides his hand under my panties and touches the stinging skin. I whimper as his fingers stroke against my opening and the moisture there is exposed.

“Fuck,” he groans and then slides his fingers inside of me.

I want to say that wakes me up, that I’m no longer in some lust-filled haze where I’m allowing a total stranger, an escaped criminal who is holding me hostage, to finger fuck me out in the open after having just spanked me. I would love to say that. I can’t. My head goes down, and I whimper as his fingers slide farther inside of me and stretch my walls.

I haven’t been with a man in well over a year, and even his fingers make me feel tight. It brings back memories of skin against skin, hot breath on my body, being filled by another person and being close to someone. They are all things that I’ve missed in the past year and are none of the things my vibrator brings me. I shouldn’t be finding anything with Max.  I need to stop this before it goes any further, but I don’t get the chance. His fingers slide out of me and then his hand cups my pussy as he bends down to whisper in my ear.

“For however long this lasts, you will listen to what I say and obey me,” his harsh voice rumbles in my ear and it should scare me. It should infuriate me. Why do I feel the urge to do everything he tells me?

Slowly he removes his hand, and I waste no time sliding off him and standing up.  I’m pulling my clothes up; the heat is coming off me in waves. I’m embarrassed. I’m humiliated, and yet, I want more. I don’t even feel like I know myself. Is it the danger? Is this what happens to women who suffer from Stockholm Syndrome? I dart a glance at Max, and I guess he is waiting for me to do that very thing because he waits until our eyes meet before he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them.  I’m already drenched with need, and that only magnifies it. I look down at the ground, wishing it would swallow me up.

The feel of his hand under my chin, urging my head up, startles me. I look into his dark eyes. Max is beautiful. There’s no escaping that. His body is toned and well defined. It’s broad enough to make me feel small, and he has dark hair with just a hint of a lighter color running through it, here and there. Almost as if it has been lightened by the sun. Is that possible? Don’t they keep you confined in prison?  The word prison shakes me and reminds me of all the reasons I shouldn’t be attracted to this man and of all the reasons I definitely shouldn’t let him be touching me. Just as I begin to list and enumerate each and every one, they go flying out of the window with his next words.

“You’re a dirty girl, Tess. I’m going to learn to control you with what your body needs—just because I think it is the most fucking beautiful thing I can remember seeing.  But, don’t for one fucking moment forget who I am. It’d be too dangerous for both of us if you do that.”

His words rock me. I take them in, one by one, digest them, separate them and do my best to decipher them. I give up as he takes me by the arm and starts leading me through the swampy land that lies ahead.  I should have my mind on watching for gators and other things, so I don’t die. Instead, all I can think about is having Max’s hands on me again.

6

Max

We’ve been walking for an hour and haven’t spoken. I’m mad at myself. What was I thinking to touch her like that? I should have never let that happen. Now that it has, it’s all I can think about. She was on fire for me. I think it shocked her as much as me. She wanted it, hell she was ready to beg for it. I can’t manage to get her or her reaction out of my mind. Since I need to be alert right now, that definitely means trouble. I might have been okay if I hadn’t tasted her. I don’t know what inner demon possessed me to taste her sweetness off my fingers, but now that I have, I know I will want it again. There’s no way I will be able to walk away from Tess Oliver without another taste. Unless she stops me. That’s the only hope I have. Hell, it’s the only hope she has. If she doesn’t stop me, I will bury myself so deep in her that I will be able to remember every small detail of being with her and carry that with me back into the darkness when the time comes.

“Max, I need to rest, and I’ve got to go to the little girl’s room,” she says quietly, and you can tell she wishes she didn’t have to talk to me. Hell, I wish she didn’t have to at this point too. I ignore her and keep walking. It doesn’t take long, maybe five or ten minutes, before she jerks against my hold.  “Max! I need to go to the little girl’s room!”

“In case you have missed it, Kitten, we’re in the middle of nowhere. There’s no little girl’s room out here.”

“That doesn’t change the facts that I need to use one!”

“Fine. Squat,” I turn around and order her. I stand back, crossing my arms over my chest and wait.

Tess has beautiful eyes that remind me of emeralds. They grow large as she stares at me. Her mouth drops open for so long that I push her chin to close it before half of the mosquito population of Florida flies in there.

“I’m not peeing in front of you! I don’t know you.”

“You weren’t saying that when I had my fingers inside of you,” I reason, enjoying the way the heat flushes her face.  She looks like she wants to kill me and then stomps off the path we’re on and goes in the direction that will take her deeper into the marshlands. “Whoa! Where do you think you’re going?” I ask grabbing her arm and bringing her back to my side.

“I’m going over behind that big tree over there to pee,” she grumbles and jerks hard to get free of me. I let her go and find myself wishing that I wasn’t living on borrowed time. For the first time I can remember in years, I have the urge to take my time with a woman and train her. Show her everything that pleases me and learn exactly, what brings her the most pleasure. There’s a feeling deep inside of me that says this woman could be someone that would fulfill every need I’ve ever had.

She’s not mine to have. She never will be.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to go that way? It will take us to the road quicker,” she grumbles when she makes it back to me. She looks annoyed, but sexy as hell at the same time.

“We’re in Florida, in marsh and swamp lands,” I explain to her, taking her by the arm and pulling her back the way we were headed to begin with.

“I’m not exactly stupid,” she grumbles.

“Well, then you’re apparently not originally from Florida because there are snakes in the trees that could wrap around your pretty body pretty easily.”

“I…uh…I’ve seen them on the news. I was trying not to think about them. Thanks for the image though, you’re a real pal,” she huffs and keeps walking.

I notice she’s limping and look down at her feet. It’s the damn shoes; even without the heels she’s going to have blisters. I shouldn’t care. I find I do, which is annoying.

We walk for another hour, and we’ve not said two words to each other in that whole time. I can tell Tess is getting tired. Her steps are starting to stumble, and I hear her stomach growl for about the fourth time. I should offer to stop, but I don’t. I’m pushing her. I want her to ask me when she needs something. I like the idea of her coming to me. Hell, I want to see how far she goes before she breaks.

“Max can we please stop and catch our breath?”

I ignore her.  I grew up in this area. I know exactly where I’m at, and I have plans to let her rest ahead, but I want to see how far she’ll go.

“Max, please.”

She doesn’t mean it sexually, and still, when her soft voice calls my name and combines it with the word please, I get a vision of her chained to my bed, her body naked and glowing from being rode hard and my face buried between her legs.  My cock throbs just thinking about it.

Her stomach rumbles again, and I know I need to search for some food.  More importantly, I need to clear my head, before I down her here and fuck her. That can’t happen. It just can’t.  I’ll let her rest for a bit, and then we can move on. I know where to take her, the trouble is the cops will also know to look for me there. So, we absolutely can’t stay long.

I am actually surprised; I would have figured they would have been on our heels by now. There’s a part of me that is disappointed they aren’t. I may not be letting Tess go for some reason, but I know she needs to. I guide her to the left of our path, and we start walking in that direction.

“I thought you said we shouldn’t go off the path?” She asks, exhausted.

“I needed a breather,” I lie.

“Oh, thank God,” she says.

“Don’t get excited. It will be a quick break.”

She doesn’t reply.  Eventually, I weave around to the small area that I used to hunt in when I was younger.   It’s a small spring of water under a large tree. I used to love this spot, once, long ago in a different life.  I guide her over to the ground, applying pressure so she’ll sit down.  “If you run off, you’ll regret it,” I inform her coldly. It should scare her.  I don’t think it does.

“Sadly, I can’t right now,” she sighs morosely, hissing as she takes her shoes off. Her feet do look nasty. They’re covered in blood and red swollen blisters. I can’t stop myself from bending down on the ground and helping to take her shoes off. Then I shift her and ease her closer to the water, letting her feet fall into the cool water. “Am I going to get some kind of infection and lose my toes because I’m soaking them in swamp water?” she asks, but her eyes are closed, and she seems relaxed.  I shake my head because she is a strange combination of a woman. I don’t think I’ve encountered anyone like her before.

“It’s a spring, probably more purified than the water that runs out of your faucet at home,” I tell her, getting up to go in search of the real reason I decided to stop here.

“I wouldn’t drink water that had my feet in it,” she calls out from behind me.

“You will if you’re thirsty. This might be the last water we have for a long time.”

“Couldn’t you have told me that before you put my feet in it? Besides, on TV, they always have to prepare the water. Shouldn’t we boil it or something?”

“You got matches?” I question sarcastically.

“I’m suddenly not thirsty.”

I leave with a smile on my face. I don’t stay away long. I don’t trust her to run off. Even if part of me is wishing she would. This constant war inside of me, over the woman, is driving me batty. Would it all change if I let myself have her, just once?  I come back to the spring with my hands full of food I hand her one hand full and keep the other for myself.

“What are these?”

“Sea grapes.”

“Sea grapes?” She asks like it’s something from Mars. She holds one up to her face and turns it around inspecting it. She brings it up to her nose and sniffs.  “Should we wash it off or something?”

“Sure, you have the water your feet are in.”

“I could hate you,” she grumbles, and it’s cute and all, but she should hate me. I kidnapped her. I do not understand the dynamic we have going on between us. I need to get her out of my head. I need to make sure there is a wall between us.

“I’m sure you say that to all the men who kidnap you,” I say mainly to remind her of our situation. I think it does because, for a second, she gets a strange look on her face. Then she delicately bites into the grape. Her face is full of concentration, and she must decide she likes it because she plops what remains of the small morsel in her mouth and goes for the next one.

“I’ve read your file,” she begins, and I ignore her. “Why don’t you ever tell the parole board you’re sorry for your crime?”

Her question angers me.  How many people have asked me that? I have fucking lost count. “I’m not sorry, my only regret is that I only got to kill him once.”

“Saying things like that is why you’re on your fourth parole hearing, can’t you even feign remorse?”

“Why? I’m glad the son of a bitch isn’t breathing. I’m thrilled the last face he saw was mine. No point in lying about it.”

“Don’t you want to be free? To have a life again, Max?”

I like the way she says my name. It makes me react, and I’m not just talking my dick, though that is definitely alert, hearing her say my name causes something in my chest to hurt. Maybe it’s just the sea grapes.

“There’s nothing for me out here,” I tell her, dusting off my hands. I go and sit beside her and rip off one of the sleeves on my jumpsuit. Once I get that done, I do the other and carefully dry her foot off. Then I take part of one of the torn sleeves and wrap it around her foot, before putting it back in her shoe.   I repeat my actions with the other foot.

“There could be,” she says while I’m tending to her, and I ignore those words. She’s wrong. I did what I did, and there’s no going back.

“Time to get a move on,” I say, helping her up and effectively shutting her down. I haven’t got time for her questions or the thoughts that having her around put in my head.

This time, I stay off the path. I know where I’m going, I just honestly don’t know why. I should wait to be found and let Tess get back to her world, which is far, far away from my own.  I know that logically, I just can’t manage to do that. Not yet, not right now.  Maybe all the time without having a woman around has bothered me. I just can’t let her go, even if it would be better for both of us if I did.

7

Tess

It feels like we’ve been walking for days. In reality, it has probably only been hours.  Max hasn’t said anything else, and it has been radio silence except for heavy breathing, which is all mine.  Apparently, I’m out of shape, and Mad Max is a freaking machine.

I thought Florida was all flat land, but Max has somehow managed to find an actual hill. When we come over the top of it, he stops abruptly and jerks me so that I crash into the back of him.

“Umpf,” I grunt.

Silence.

“Yeah I didn’t expect an apology,” I mutter.  There’s nothing around us, and I’m not sure what he finds so captivating.  “Um…Max?”

Silence.

“Fine, don’t mind me.  I just came here to try and save your ass and help you get out of jail today—which, by the way, I totally would have, had you cooperated.  But, no…you had to get pissy and now I find myself kidnapped, threatened, spanked like a two-year-old child…”

“Don’t fucking lie,” he growls, and I stop my tirade to look up at him.

“Nothing about what we did resembles punishing a child.  I can show you the difference if you want. I’d be happy to.”

I see the threat in his eyes and decide silence from me might be my best recourse.  He stands there for another minute, watching me and then he goes over to a weeping willow that is covered in Spanish moss. He stands with his back against the trunk and walks straight ahead, heel to toe, almost if he is counting off paces.  While he is distracted, I look around for something to defend myself with.  I find a rock a few feet in front of me. I bend down to pick it up, being as slow and quiet as I can. I keep my eyes on Max the entire time, not wanting him to see me.

I finally manage to grasp it, and I feel like I’ve won a war. With the rock in hand, and sadly it is small enough to clench my hand around, I start backing up.  Once I put at least three hundred feet between Max and me, I turn to take off running.

“If you run Tess, you will not like what happens next,” he yells out.  That makes me hesitate. His deep voice shortening my name and the way it rolls off his tongue nearly makes me groan aloud. For that reason alone I take off running. He’s just too dangerous to me.

I run back the way we came, my heart pounding as hard as my feet on the ground.  I can hear Max behind me.  He’s back there somewhere and fear floods my system.  I know if he catches me I’m in trouble, I’m just not quite sure how deep that trouble will go. I have no willpower around him.

I’m just starting to go down the small incline he led us up when I hear him.  He’s much closer than I thought he would be.  I try to speed up, but I know it’s useless. Max wrapped my feet earlier, but they hurt like hell and my shoes, even without my much-adored heels, aren’t made for running, especially in Florida swampland with an escaped convict on my tail.

Max grabs me by the upper arm, and I scream.  I don’t think, I just react. I turn into him, still screaming as loud as I can. I take the hand with the rock and slam the side of his face.  It’s not big enough to do a lot of damage. It is, however, forceful enough that surprise works to my advantage and I’m free.  Max stumbles back and again I take off.  I don’t get ten feet before he pulls me down by the backs of my legs.  I sail forward on the hard ground and crash hard.  I fall face first.  I try to catch myself, but I do a poor job of it.  He roughly turns me around.  I try to bring the rock up to hit him again.  Max holds my hand and applies so much pressure, I think he might break it.  No matter what I do, I can’t move it. Then, I see his face. His hair is rumpled, his dark eyes so intense and his face is as cold as steel.  He’s mad and not just a little. He’s furious.

On the side of his face, there is dirt and red, angry scrapes. Blood. Yeah, there’s blood. He’s bleeding on his beautiful face, and that’s my fault.  It hurts me, and my reaction upsets me.  It shouldn’t bother me that I hurt Max. I should want to hurt him over and over. He kidnapped me. He started this! I growl; frustrated with him, with me, with the situation, and more than anything else my own stupid inability to escape.

“You’re going to pay for that one, Kitten.”

His dark voice is meant to be a threat, I know, but something about the way he says it sends shivers of awareness down my body.  He pulls my hands up roughly over my head and imprisons them at the wrist with one of his.  His mouth comes down hard on mine. I try to hold onto my resistance and not open my mouth to him. His free hand encircles my breast and kneads it hard. My brain ceases to function, and instead I count each time he clenches and releases. My nipples go hard, craving attention and I try to recall all the reasons I should respond to him. Then he grasps my hard, pebbled nipple between his fingers and even through the layer of my clothes it feels so good that I moan. He pulls hard, and there’s a sting of pain that feels divine, and I gasp.

Max takes advantage, and his tongue pushes into my mouth and I can’t even begin to stop the way my hips thrust up against him, seeking and needing more. Our tongues go to war with each other, each trying to conquer the other. My hands strain against his hold, as he continues his sweet torture on my nipples. Soon I become mindless, craving anything he will give me.

“You’re wet for me, aren’t you Tess? I bet that greedy little pussy is drenched,” he growls in my ear. My legs spread farther apart wanting him there. His hand slides against my stomach and under my clothes. I whimper when I feel those callused fingers brush against my center. “God, you’re fucking soaked,” he mumbles against my neck as I feel his fingers thrust inside of me.

“Max!” I call out as his teeth bite into my neck and his fingers push into me, yet again. My ass raises off the ground straining for more, desperate to keep his hand inside of me. His tongue lashes against his bite, and he plants small kisses there, before sucking the skin into his mouth and pumping me with his fingers again. My climax comes on so suddenly, so quickly; I don’t expect it, I’ve never come that quickly before in my life, and I’m totally unprepared for it now.  I try to pull away, afraid even while I’m craving it.

“Come, Tess. Ride my fingers and come for me,” He commands and he bites me again, just as his fingers forge their way back inside of me and his thumb presses down on my clit.

I splinter into a million pieces. The sensations overwhelm me, and I can’t hold back any longer so I turn myself over to it, throwing my head back against the cold, hard, unforgiving ground and calling out Max’s name while his fingers fuck me through my orgasm.

Slowly I recover, the air is heavy with the smell of sex and earth. I open my eyes carefully and find myself staring into the dark, black depths of Max’s.

“Feel better now that you spread your legs and let the convict finger fuck you in the mud, Kitten?” he growls, and the anger in his eyes hurts me more than his words. He shoves himself away from me as if I disgust him. I have to lay there for a minute to recover from the blow. Maybe I do disgust him. I’m not even sure what I just did. Worse, I already want to do it again.

I pull myself up off the ground, right my clothes and try and rake the leaves and twigs out of my hair. I’d give anything for hairbrush right now. Max doesn’t talk but when I look up, he’s reaching out his hand. The very hand he just had inside of me. I don’t want to take it. I try not to; he doesn’t really give me a choice.

He drags me back the way we came and his hold on me is cold and impersonal. Suddenly, now I feel like a hostage.  He leads me beyond the tree, and I’m preparing myself for more hours of trekking uselessly through parts of Florida I’ve never wanted to see and never want to see again.  Suddenly, he yanks me to a stop. I look around like he’s crazy.  Then he bends down, and there’s an opening beneath us.  A door to a bunker.  They’re all over Florida, I know.  Old deserted bunkers the military once used and no longer do.  I’ve never seen one before though.

“In you go!” he orders.

I want to argue, but the change in him worries me, and I’m afraid. I do as he orders and go down into the dark bunker.  I look at him as I go down every rung.  I want to beg him not to close me up in here.  I’m scared to death, and I can’t find my voice.  His face looks pretty unforgiving.  When I get to the bottom, I cough from the stale smell of dust that assaults me.  I can’t see a lot.  The door above is the only light, and I can’t see much. The light starts flickering, and I look up to see Max is coming down the ladder too.  I guess he’s not going to leave me down here. That’s something at least.

He practically pushes me out of the way to get to an old metal wardrobe.  I watch as he opens the door and brings out a lantern.  He attaches a can to the base and sits it on a cheap, card table that’s across from it and has two chairs.  He rummages around in the cabinet for a few more minutes and goes back to the table. I watch him strike a match and hold it into the lantern.  In seconds, pale light floods the room.  I look again, and once I take it all in, I suddenly wish for darkness again.

In the corner, there are a couple of small beds, which ironically enough look like beds in a jail cell, complete with army cot mattresses.  Max goes over and flips the thin pads over.

“Come here,” he grunts like a he-man, and as if using words at all, pains him.  I go, because let’s face it, discretion is the better part of valor and all that.

“Sit on the bed.”

“Me Tarzan, you Jane,” I mutter but do it.  He squats down in front of me and reaches under the bed. I let my gaze move over the small room, trying to ignore him.  That is a mistake because I hear a clicking noise and feel cold metal circle my wrist.  I look back to Max, and he has me handcuffed!  He attaches the other end to a metal bar that runs across the base of the small headboard.  He doesn’t even say a word to me.  He leaves me like that and starts going back up the ladder.

I thought I was scared before, but now I am petrified.

“Max! I won’t tell anyone which way you go. I could die here! No one will find me! Please don’t do this!” I beg, choking on the fear that’s so real and intense, my heart is hurting. He ignores me. “Max, please! You don’t have to do this!”

He stops at the top rung and turns back to look at me. Our eyes lock, and his cold gaze gives away nothing. Then, he goes the rest of the way out and shuts the entrance door with a heavy thud.

I look around the room and try to still the runaway beating of my heart.  Tears are stinging my eyes, and I try not to give into them.  Surely he wouldn’t leave me here? He killed a man because of his wife and baby.  Right?  Someone like that he doesn’t have it in him to hurt a woman.  I try to justify all these things over and over in my head.

I know so much more about Max Kincaid than I should. I’ve spent months reading his file and being fascinated by the man. I’ve read everything I could get on him.  He owns a tattoo shop on the outskirts of Ormond that caters to bikers, truckers and is known for being a no-nonsense shop.  He spent years in the army and even had a purple heart for saving his platoon in an attack somewhere in Syria.  Everything about him screams that he is a good man.  All reports indicated that his estranged wife fell in with the wrong crowd and hooked herself up with a drug dealer who got his kicks out of beating women and selling them for money.  Max found her lying in a pool of blood. She was six months pregnant at the time.  Max hunted the man down that killed her and returned the favor.  I can’t find what he did horrible, and I don’t know what that says about me. When I read in detail the state of his wife’s body, I even cheered for Max. I think my heart broke for him.  Can you fall in love with someone from reading a file about his life?  I think I kind of did, and maybe that explains my reaction to him and why I let him touch me. Why I wanted it. Yet, everything I have read didn’t prepare me for a man who would leave me to die in the bottom of an abandoned bunker.  So he’ll come back, right?  He has to.

8

Max

I’m a bastard for letting Tess think I’m leaving her to die.  I’m so mad right now. I’m mad at her, and I’m mad at myself. Why did she let me touch her? Why did she let me make her come? God, why did she have to call out my name when she orgasmed? Before the woman was getting under my skin, and now; fuck, now she’s imbedded so deep I have a feeling I’ll never be free of her and if I’m honest that is what is bothering me the most.

I had an uncle that I unaffectionately referred to as Crazy Uncle Raymond. He is the one that had that old bomb shelter installed underground.  He believed the Zombie Apocalypse was close and wanted to hide out safely while the government developed a cure.  Too bad the old bastard didn’t put all that energy into giving up the bottle instead.  He died driving home from a local tavern in Ormond when he wrapped his old El Camino around a tree.

Raymond also had an old hunting cabin about a mile away from here. I want to hit it before the law starts searching for me. I’ve been lucky; it’s been quiet so far. I figure they are still collating information and trying to contain the damage from the prison break. I think I got a good head start, but that’s going to disappear fast.

My legs are getting damn tired, but I’m afraid to rest.  There’s no telling what kind of mess Tess will get into even if she is handcuffed. A steady jog gets me to the cabin a little quicker.  It feels good to breathe in the fresh air and stretch my legs.  Freedom.  It is something that I took for granted before I went inside and shouldn’t have.  I don’t know how long I’ll stay out. Chances are I will be killed by a cop before I even get the chance to turn myself back in.  Isn’t that how most prison-breaks end? With what seems to be happening with Tess, I think it might be worth it. One taste of life’s sweetness before I die. There are worse ways to go and it’s probably better than I deserve.

The old hunting cabin hasn’t changed a bit.  Somehow I think I can still smell Uncle Raymond’s horrible old aftershave.  When I decided to kill the bastard who robbed me of my child, I stored away certain things here.  I wasn’t sure what I was going to do.  Part of me wanted to leave the country, run away from everything and try to feel alive again.  A larger part acknowledged I was already dead inside, and there was no reason to live.  I prepared for both choices, hoping against hope that killing the bastard would free me from the darkness that had overtaken me. It didn’t.

My first stop in the cabin is the floor directly in front of the old ceramic sink.  I get down on my hands and knees and pull the small handmade curtain that’s been hung around the sink in place of cabinet doors. I smile when I see Uncle Raymond’s old tool bag.  Finding a screwdriver, I go to the fake plank that Raymond fixed.  I pry the board back.  Underneath is a false bottom my Uncle used to stash his money in.  His reasoning was that, as sneaky as the government was, you would have to be rich to afford a cure during the apocalypse.  I never tried to talk him out of it, because hell, if that’s what the old man believed, who was I to argue?

Inside there’s a large roll of money and some fake ID’s provided by some of my buddies in the Steel Vipers, a local motorcycle club I do ink for.  I grab it and gather a few more things I think I might need. Before I leave, I go to the makeshift closet and take out the overnight bag I packed all those years ago. I’ve slimmed and bulked up thanks to prison life and routines, but the clothes there will still fit.  I switch into jeans, and a t-shirt, grab an old hunting sack that’s lying on the table and store the rest of my finds in it, including the prison jumpsuit. I don’t want to announce I’ve been here if I can help it. Then, I head back to the bunker.  I swear when I get back I’m going to somehow manage to sleep for a couple of hours.

______

I don’t know what I expected when I got back to the bumper, but I don’t think it was finding Tess sleeping.  She’s lying on the old army cot sound asleep.  Her hair is wet and sticking to her jaw, and you can see the glistening tracks of tears on her face.  Guilt sucker punches me in the gut. It’s not a feeling I’m used to having. Hell, the only time I’ve ever had it was when I lost my child.

I should have done something to pull my ex, Renee, out of the pit she had crawled into.  I didn’t know it was as bad as it actually was.  She kept it hidden, but even that’s not the complete truth.  I didn’t care enough to know more. I was glad she was out of my hair.

Saying that, if I could go back, I would. I never should have messed with Renee anyway. She was a muffler bunny the Vipers kept.  It was just a weekend lay because if there was one fucking thing that Renee was good at, it was sucking cock and riding it.  Hindsight is definitely twenty-twenty.

I go to the chest my uncle kept and find the old army blankets inside. They are wool blankets that are soft and still in the plastic packaging.  The National Guard passes them out in times of disaster, and somehow Uncle Raymond got tons of them.  They can’t be washed without falling apart, but cleanliness was something that wasn’t a top priority for Raymond, so guess he didn’t care. I pull a cover over her and smile at the soft whimper she gives.  She’s beautiful really, but so tiny and frail you could imagine a little wind would knock her over. On the heels of that thought are memories of her back-talking and arguing with me.  She has substance.  She might have more than any person I’ve ever met before, but I can’t weaken towards her.  Whatever I decide from here out, I know it’s probably not going to end well.  I made my bed with my choices in the past, and there’s not a damn thing I could or would do to change them.

I store my stuff under my bed and decide to lay down on the small cot beside her. It’s early, barely dusk outside, but this is just a temporary stop, and I’m going to need to find rest where I can get it.  Tomorrow, I need to figure out what exactly I’m going to do and what in the hell I’m going to do with Tess. I’ve been acting like an idiot. I can’t keep her, I don’t even know why I have. It’s like someone else has taken over my mind and is calling all the shots. I have to let her go. I have to.

“You came back for me,” Tess mumbles from the bed beside me. I turn to look at her and nearly groan.  Sexy should be the last thing she is right now. Her makeup is smeared; her eyes have circles, and her hair is a mess. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful woman.

I don’t answer her and instead go back to staring up at the ceiling.

“You know when I was little, I used to dream of a man whisking me off my feet. We’d leave and go on the run from my family.  It would be fun and exciting and full of adventure. The dream is much better than the reality, Max.”

“Why did you want to run away from your family?”  My voice is gruff, probably because I fought questioning her, but I just had to ask.

This time, she goes silent. I think she’s going to ignore the question, but as she has all day, Tess surprises me.

“Some people are not good. They’re so far away from good it’s frightening.”

“Seems you attract us,” I grunt. I can just drop her off in town tomorrow once I get a car. I’ll set her out, go on my way and enjoy whatever time I have before the devil comes calling.

“You’re not like them, Max, you’re nothing like them,” the tone of her voice makes me turn to look at her again.  Her eyes are closed, and she’s snuggled like she’s in a cocoon, except for the one hand which is laying out at an angle because of the cuff. The sight of her handcuffed to the bed talks to my dick and what it says makes him rock hard. “What you did had a reason.  When I read your file, I secretly cheered what you did.  Children should have someone to extract vengeance for them.  They can’t do it themselves.  What you did might have been wrong according to the judicial system, but they get so much shit wrong on a daily basis, who’s to say they don’t have this wrong too.

Her words roll over me, dig under the skin and lodge there. Lodge in a way I know they will fester and cause me trouble later.

“No one stood up for you?”

“One person, Rory. He stood up for me. He always stood up for me.”

“What happened with the two of you?”

“I married him.”

“You’re married?”  I ask, and I do my best to ignore the way those words burn. It’s a good decision to let her go tomorrow. She has a man. She has a life ahead of her.

“Not anymore.”

“He stop taking up for you?”

“He died.”

“Tough break,” It’s an asinine thing to say, but then so is the feeling of happiness that an unnamed person was dead. It’s still what I feel inside.

“Yeah, it was. Did you go to your Uncle Raymond’s?”

“How did you know?”

“The hunting cabin and your uncle was in your file. I told you; I’ve been reading about you for months.” I don’t make a comment. I don’t think I’d know what to say. “Are you leaving in the morning, Max?”

“Yeah, it won’t be safe to stay.”

“Take me with you, Max. Don’t leave me here alone again, please?”

Across the room the light from the lantern flickers and then burns completely out. Darkness drapes over us and I hear her voice repeat in my head.  Take me with you, Max. I can’t keep her, but maybe it would be okay to take her with me, just one more day.  Truth is, I’m just not ready to let her go yet.

“Go to sleep, Tess,” I tell her, rolling over on my side and giving her my back.

“You didn’t answer. Please, Max? Don’t leave me here alone.”

“You’ll go with me when we leave, but you may wish you hadn’t before it’s over.”

“Sweet dreams, Max.”

Again, I don’t know how to answer her. I don’t think anyone has ever said those words to me before. I need sleep, but I lay there a long time before sleep claims me, the last thing I hear is Tess’s plea in my mind.

“Take me with you, Max.”

9

Tess

A clanging noise jerks me awake. I sit up and feel the sharp pain in my wrist as I pull too far away. Handcuffs. Memories from the day before surface and panic once again overtake me as I think Max has left me alone again.  Relief almost overwhelms me when I find him standing over an old camping stove, cooking.

“You have food?” I ask, excited.  I’m starved. It feels like I haven’t eaten in days.

“I’m not sure you can call it food, so don’t get too thrilled.”

“Oh my God, Max! Is that bacon I smell?”

“It’s more like cured jerky,” he says dryly.

“I don’t care what it is, just give it here,” I answer him, my mouth watering.  “Oh my god, is that eggs?” I ask when I see the fluffy mounds of yellow sitting on the plate, he brings me.

“More like dried powder. Still, they aren’t bad in a pinch,” he says putting the plate down on my lap.  There’s the not quite bacon-bacon, eggs, toast and… “Peaches?” I question him.

He shrugs, “I thought you might want fruit. Women like that kind of thing right?”

I want to ask what he did with gruff, silent Max, but I don’t want him to make a reappearance, so I zip it up.

“It’s great…umm can I get, I mean will you unhook me so I can eat?” I hold up my hand waving it and making the chain rattle.  He looks at me and back to the handcuff.

“I’ll feed you,” he says, his eyes darker.

My stomach flutters at the look in his eyes and I’m imagining him feeding me. I want that. I want more of what we did together yesterday, even knowing I shouldn’t. I need to divert him right now though and figure out exactly what I’m going to do.

“Max, this is ridiculous, it’s not like I can get away from you. Just let me loose so I can eat, and while we’re talking about it, I need to use the facilities, so…”  I trail off wiggling the chain again.

He frowns, but pulls a key out of his pocket and undoes my lock.  I rub my wrist, from reflex. It doesn’t really hurt; Max fixed the cuff so that it was very loose. I just don’t like the idea of being restrained. A flash of need has me picturing myself restrained; naked while Max is over me…I ignore it. That’s definitely not going to help me clear my head and figure out what to do.

“The facilities, Kitten, are an old lard bucket behind that row of shelves,” Max says, watching every move I make.

“A lard bucket?”

“No indoor plumbing in a cheap underground survival shelter,” he returns in his wry, statement-of-fact voice that I’m either beginning to really like or hate. It’s a toss-up.

“Of course not, was he afraid the zombies would crawl up the drains?” I ask, going behind the shelves.

“Don’t know, never cared enough to ask. You sure know an awful lot about me.”

My face flames and I’m glad I’m behind the shelves. Did I give away too much? Would he know how I’ve sat alone at night and combed over his files and pictures, enthralled with his life? Could he guess that before I even saw him at the prison yesterday, looking so cold and aloof, but still devastatingly handsome that I was already infatuated with him? It makes me sound like a kook. I get that. Hell, I’m starting to think I am completely crazy. If you add in my reaction to him and the fact that I don’t hate him or want to maim him right now, I just might be certifiably insane.

“I told you, I had to research the file that the county of Ormond has on you to prepare for your parole hearing,” I lie and, it is a straight-up, bald-faced lie.

“I thought you said your boss threw this on you yesterday morning, without warning?”

I forgot about the high intelligence notes the warden and guards reported about Max.

“He did, but I am the one who prepares his arguments and notes,” I return, carefully avoiding his eyes, in case he can see the lies on my face. “Do we have water and you know, maybe some soap?” I finally ask, to divert him. I need to stop talking about this. I’m afraid of what more I might give away.

“Over by the old basin.”

I look in the direction he gestures and see an old, silver, antique wash basin and pitcher and beside it is a gallon jug of water. I wash my hands quickly and come back to the bed and grab the food that Max gave me earlier. He has a similar-looking plate on his bed, and I’m secretly excited as a teenage girl over Justin Bieber.  Inside there’s a part of me squealing that I get to eat breakfast with Max Kincaid.

I take a hesitant bite of the eggs. It’s definitely not five-star cuisine, but passable. The bacon is very disappointing, but I manage to swallow down a couple of strips.  The toast is…yeah, I’m not touching whatever that is.

“Umm…what are these things?”   I ask looking at my plate dubiously, after tasting the cardboard…err…bread and putting it back down quickly.

“Kind of a homemade version of an MRE,” he says, having downed all of his and finished his drink from the box.  I carefully puncture mine and stick the attached straw in it. It’s not horrible, I’m not sure you could call it orange juice, but the flavor is kind of there, so I drink it.

“A MR what?”

“A MRE, Meal ready to eat. The military feeds them to astronauts or soldiers overseas.  National Guard also…”

“They feed our soldiers this? That’s horrible!  They deserve real food. Why…”

His laughter stops the beginning of my tirade. I freeze. It’s a beautiful sound, and it’s a sound that if I never hear it again for the rest of my life, I will still never forget it.

“There isn’t really restaurants or even ways to cook in times of war.”

Okay so he’s right, but still.

I stop thinking at all when Max gets down on his knees in front of me. Heck, I’m not sure I can find my voice. For the first time, I allow myself to look at Max Kincaid, and I mean really look. He’s wearing a worn, faded white t-shirt that looks bright next to his dark skin. He’s got jeans on that seem a little tight, but he wears them perfectly. His five o’clock shadow gives his face even more depth and somehow highlights those dark, soulful eyes of his even more.  I can see the tattoo he has on his shoulder peak out from under the t-shirt, and I wish I could see the rest of it. His file says he has eight tattoos, and I’ve always wanted to see each one personally.  Certifiably insane.

“What are you doing?” I ask, eventually finding my voice even if it comes out hoarse and croaky like a bullfrog. I shouldn’t have asked because he’s taking my shoes off, so I know. Still, I’m nervous. These thoughts of Max I keep having, combined with what happened yesterday…what my body keeps craving more of…Maybe once I get free, I can sign up for therapy.  I hear it can do wonders, and I think it’s pretty clear I need it.

He reaches over to his side and gets a box, handing it to me. First-Aid Kit, I read on the lid. Guess that was his answer.  He works in silence, taking the old torn pieces of cloth off my feet and setting them with my shoes to the side. He puts my feet down and goes back to the basin, bringing it over, with the water and an old towel that he throws over his shoulder.  I hiss in pain as the cool water flows over my poor feet. There are so many open raw spots from blisters that have burst; I want to weep. He works, quietly efficient, making sure my feet are clean and padding them dry gently, but with a firm hand.

“Hand me that roll of gauze,” he says startling me out of the semi-trance I was in, watching his hands.

I open the lid and quickly grasp it, handing it to him.

“And a few of those cream packets, the antibiotic ones.”

Once he treats the worst of the blisters, he rolls the gauze over my feet, securing it with the tape from the box. Then he goes back on his heels and looks at me.

“We can’t go anywhere today, there’s no way you’d last trying to walk on those feet.”

“Is that safe?”  I ask, knowing not only that the law is on our heels, but also the other escapees. I don’t want to think about what might happen if they accidentally find us.

“We don’t have much of a choice. We’ll let you rest up today and head out early in the morning.”

“You could take me into town and leave me, Max. You should leave me. You need to keep on the move; it’s not safe.”

“Since you work for a lawyer and all, shouldn’t you be urging me to turn myself back in?”

“Would you listen to me if I did?” I counter.

“Not hardly.”

“That’s why I said you should keep running. Besides, it’d be better if you go to a police station and turn yourself in. Out here…”

“You think they might shoot first and ask later?” He says dryly with a cold smile on his face that in no way reaches those beautiful dark eyes.

“Probably…” I answer truthfully, and the very thought of it causes my blood to run cold.  I can’t let that happen.  I need to make it my mission to make sure Max gets back in jail safely and still be eligible for parole. I have no idea how I’m going to make that happen; I just know I need to.

“Last night you didn’t want me to leave you,” he says, getting up to return the things back where they belong. He sounds angry. He pours the water into a big barrel in the corner. It’s on my mind to ask what happens when that gets full, but since I won’t be around when it does, I guess it doesn’t matter.

“I don’t know what I want when I’m around you,” I answer with complete honesty. “I’m torn between wanting to go back to my quiet apartment or run off to Maine with you.”

“Maine?” he asks with a sardonic smile on his face.

“No one ever wants to go to Maine. Seemed like a good place. When people go on the run in the movies, they always head for the border. I always thought a quiet state to hide in would be better.”

He shakes his head and doesn’t say anything else.  It almost feels like we’re friends, and then he does something I’d almost like to slap him for. He puts the handcuffs back on me. I don’t argue, instead I find myself staring at the light in the lantern he must have lit before I woke up.

Therapy. I definitely need therapy.

10

Max

It shouldn’t bother me that Tess seems so disappointed when I handcuff her back to the bed. It does, and that’s all kinds of bad.  I have a soft spot for this little, brunette spitfire, and I need to tap that shit all the fuck of the way out.  I am even staying here for another night just so her feet can heal a little more. That in itself is pure idiocy. I should do like she suggested and drop her. Not here though, if the Hernandez twins managed to escape and find her, Tess would never survive—or if she did, she would wish she hadn’t.  I could take her to the local town as she said though.  I have to go there anyway to get a car off of Zeke. I ignore that train of thought, however, because the simple truth is I don’t want to separate from Tess just yet. I may die today and if I do, these moments with her have been the bright spot in my sorry life.

In the back of my mind, I curse the fact that I couldn’t have met her before Renee, before the child, before I made the decisions that brought me to the place I am now. What would have happened then? My dick jerks against the zipper of my jeans, because I know what would have happened. I would have owned her body and made damned sure she never even thought to look elsewhere for a man.

“Rest, Kitten. I need to go back up top and see if I can see signs of any company.”

She doesn’t answer, and it pisses me off that she’s making me feel guilty. She’s my prisoner damn it. Mine to do with what I want, and in any way I want. Excitement courses through my system at that thought.

__________

I ended up spending the entire day up top. I needed to clear my head.  I was right; the woman is under my skin. I am starting to think I’ll never get free, like she will always be there, and today, I found I missed her. I wish I had never touched her. Maybe if I hadn’t touched her or tasted her…maybe then she wouldn’t weigh so heavily on my brain.  Tomorrow, I will let her go, I decide again.  I’m giving myself whiplash with the way I keep changing my own damn mind. The woman has me going in circles, and I’m starting to get dizzy. I have to let her go. It’s best for both of us. Decision made; I head back to the bunker and check on her.

I barely make it off the bottom rung before she pipes up.

“How nice of you to come back and check on me,” she snaps.

I have to bite the inside of my jaw to keep from smiling.  She really doesn’t know how to guard her attitude, and I like everything about it. It all tempts me to show her exactly who is in charge.

“Miss me?”

“Like a toothache. To think I liked you before your hearing. Just goes to show you reality never lives up to the dream.”

“Did you dream of me, Kitten?”

That snaps her mouth shut or at least, I thought it would. I was apparently wrong.

“I think it only fair to warn you, Max, you are an asshole.”

“You’re tempting me, sweetheart.”

“Yeah well, you’re pissing me off so I’d say we were even.”

“You do get that you are my hostage, right?” I ask because apparently she needs reminding.

“I offered to help you! You dick! What happens? You chain me up and leave me alone again!  I specifically asked you not to! I even said please!”

“I told you I’d be back!  I had to make sure you didn’t escape! Remember? Hostage?”

“I told you I would help you!”

“And, I told you I’d be back,” I stress again.

“What would have happened to me if one of those men from the prison had found me while you were gone, Max? You left me helpless!”  She growls.

She might have a point there, and I curse my stupidity.  Still, she’s way too stubborn for her own good.

“You need to stop pushing me.”

“You need to stop leaving me alone!”

I grab her by the back of her neck and pull her face up to me so that our lips are just a breath away from each other. Even then, even knowing what I’ve done in my life, it is not fear in her eyes. It’s excitement.

“You’re playing with fire.” Her tongue slips from between her lips and rubs gently against her bottom lip. Her beautiful hazel eyes are glowing and so fucking intense. “You should be praying that I leave you alone, woman.”

“I know,” she breathes.

“Then, why aren’t you?”

“Hell if I know, Max.”

“This can’t happen, Tess.”

“I know.”

“I’m going to take you into town tomorrow and drop you off. I have to.” Even telling her that hurts. It’s true though. If we react this strongly to each other after only two days, what the hell would it be like to be near her longer?  I can’t chance it. When I clearly see the disappointment in her eyes, I hate myself.  For the first time since I pulled the trigger, I regret my decision. Tess offers a promise of a better life, of a life worth living.  It’s too late.

“Okay, Max,” she whispers, and the remorse in her eyes cuts me wide open.

“Tess…”

“You could kiss me goodbye.”

“It might not stop at that,” I tell her in complete honesty.

“I’m not sure I care.”

“You should. You’re tempting fate, Kitten.”

“Are you going to talk all evening or kiss me?”

“You don’t like talking?”

“When you grab a lady like you just did, you kind of promise her something...”

My lips crash into hers, stopping her words and swallowing them.  My tongue angrily takes over her mouth because I am angry. I’m angry at her for letting me do this, and I’m angry at the world for giving me everything I ever wanted; when it’s too late. Most of all, I’m angry at myself. If I had known Tess was waiting for me, things would have been different. When we pull away from each other, I watch as those emerald eyes of hers slowly open, shining at me and promising me things I can’t have.

“Damn, Max, you sure know how to kiss,” she breathes.

“Right back at you, Kitten,”  I growl, before claiming her lips again.

Maybe I could keep her, one more day….

11

Tess

My body is on fire by the time our second kiss ends. I want more, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to demand it.  Max does something surprising though. He reaches over, unchains me from the bed, and helps me to stand.

“Will you give yourself to me tonight?”

His gruff voice vibrates through me. I get the feeling he’s asking for more than just sex. I try to remind myself of all of the reasons I should say no. I can’t. It’s just not in me; I want this. It may never go past tonight, but I want tonight.

“Yes.”

My answer somehow makes those dark eyes of his deepen. I’m expecting him to make love to me right then, right there. So, it surprises me when he leaves me on the bed and goes to the wash basin. He takes one of the hundreds of gallon jugs of water stacked neatly in the corner and pours it into the basin he emptied earlier. I watch as he strips off his shirt.  The tattoos on his shoulder and chest grab my eyes first before he turns to give me his back.

“Tess, come and wash my hair,” he orders.

It doesn’t even occur to me to argue. The truth is; I want to wash his hair. I want the privilege of running my fingers through his hair. I want to touch him and mark him, as he’s marked me. My hand goes to my neck; rubbing the marks he left there the day before. I walk to him; he gives me that slight smile that I’ve seen escape him a few times and hands me a small travel bottle of shampoo.  I put it down and grab an old plastic cup and go about washing his hair.

“Go back and sit down and wait for me,” he orders when I finish.

“But…”

“If you touch me, this won’t go like I want it to. Your hands on my body are guaranteed to make me lose control, and that’s not what I want, not tonight. Now, go and wait for me.”

I want to pout, but his words have me too excited. I’m practically walking on air when I go back to the bed. He undresses, and I shamelessly watch him wash off.  I’ve been halfway in love with Max since I first read his story. I may only get this one night with him, and I have to accept that. My night with him is a moment out of time. One that shouldn’t happen, but one I will cherish until I’m old and gray.  I can’t pull my eyes away from him as he sponge bathes himself. When he washes his cock, and I watch him take himself into his hands, my body flushes hot. Moisture gathers between my legs and I’m dying to have him.  I want to cry out in disappointment when he covers himself up with a pair of jogging pants he pulls out of the satchel he brought back from his uncle’s.

Once he empties the basin the turns to me.

“Come here, Tess.”

Three words. Three words that are so simple, but they are words that I’ve imagined this man saying for months. It seems surreal. If I only get tonight, it will have been more than worth it. I go to him, willingly. I go to him, eager.

He grabs the collar of my shirt and pulls. Buttons, pop and scatter through the room. My body jumps, but my eyes never leave his intense stare. He takes the shirt from my body and throws it on the floor.  I look down at it and then back up to him.

“Umm…what am I supposed to wear tomorrow?”

“Let’s just worry about tonight right now, Kitten.”

I moisten my lips and nod my approval. That seems to be what he was looking for because he unlatches the clasp between my breasts and my bra releases. It soon joins my ruined shirt. Heat infuses my face, I can feel it, but I don’t look away.

“You’re beautiful, Tess. So fucking beautiful.”

It doesn’t matter that I don’t agree with him. Right now, standing in front of him I feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. He unlatches my pants, and they drop to the ground, leaving me standing in front of him in nothing but my panties.  He slides those off too, and now I’m naked, wondering what he’s going to do next. I don’t have long to wait.

“Bend over the basin, sweetheart. I want to wash that beautiful hair of yours.”

I’m twenty-seven years old, and I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone wash my hair, and that’s a damn shame because as Max starts using his strong hands to tenderly wash my hair I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. Once he’s done, he wraps my hair in a towel and begins washing my body.

His hands move so slowly, so tenderly over me, washing me in a way that it feels like he’s worshipping me. When he cups my pussy, I moan. He’s already touched and caressed me to the point that my body feels like it is on pins and needles.  I’m so close to the edge that when he holds my center like that, it’s almost enough to send me, hurling into an orgasm.  I manage to keep that from happening, but it’s close. He takes the bar of soap; dropping it into the water and then lathering it in his hands.  My eyes are glued to his movements. Even so, I’m not prepared when he slides the soap between my folds and lets the soap rub and tease against my opening and then my clit. He pushes it up so that I could almost ride it, before taking it away.

I cry in disappointment.  As he uses a cloth and fresh water to wash me clean.

“Max…”

“What’s wrong, sweetheart.”

“I need…”

“What do you need?”

“Make me….make me come, please.”

I think that might be what he is waiting for, from me, because he grabs my thighs and practically pulls my legs apart and then his tongue slides into my pussy. His tongue slides straight to my clit, flicking against it before flattening his tongue out against it and rubbing it so intently, my legs go weak. He teases and tortures my clit over and over, and I want to scream because I need more. Then, his fingers push into me, just as he sucks my clit into this mouth, rubbing it back and forth between his lips.  His fingers begin fucking me, at a measured pace at first and then faster, starting a steady rhythm that I lose myself inside of.  When his fingers thrust farther, and I clamp down on them; we both groan out loud. On his next thrust, he angles them and begins hard fucking me while his tongue joins in. The dual sensations are so intense I scream out his name and he thrusts harder and harder with his fingers, this time he hits that magic spot and the cream from my orgasm rushes forth. I cry as I cum all over Max’s face and fingers. He’s still sucking my clit, and he growls as my liquid soaks him, and the vibration sends me further and to the point where it feels as if I’m floating.

When it’s over, I can’t register anything. I feel boneless; like I’m floating.  I vaguely realize that Max is cleaning me from my climax and then drying me off.  He grabs a large, cotton, flannel, button-up shirt out of his pack, putting it on me.

“I want you in my shirt tonight, Tess,” he says buttoning it up.

Once he’s got that done, my legs are still weak but it doesn’t matter. He picks me up and carries me back to the bed.  I sit there, wondering what’s next when Max sits down beside me and starts brushing my hair. I close my eyes and just enjoy. The combination of having him give me so much attention and the orgasm I just had, mix, and my eyes get heavy. I’m swaying against him by the time he finishes brushing my hair.  He gets off the cot and lays me down. As tired as I am, I can’t wait to finally have him. There’s a loud noise that makes me open my eyes, and I smile as he pushes the other small bed next to mine.  He lies down and then pulls my body, so my back is against his chest, and our legs intertwine.

“Go to sleep, Kitten,” he whispers against my hair as he holds me tight.

“When you asked me to give myself to you, I pictured this evening differently, Max,” I tell him, even though I can already feel myself drifting off to sleep.

“Tonight was the single, most exciting night I’ve ever shared with a woman, Tess. Never doubt that, ever.”

Something about the way he says the words makes me believe them, and I fall asleep with a smile.

12

Max

Falling asleep with a woman in your arms for the first time in over five years is a surreal experience. Doing it with a woman that you actually care about is something I have never experienced before, and I do care about Tess. It doesn’t even matter that it’s only been a few days. I care, more than is probably healthy for either one of us.

Last night I was pretty sure nothing could match the sensation of holding her while I fell asleep. I was so fucking wrong. The best fucking feeling in the world is waking up with Tess between my legs, her tongue gliding under my hardened cock, and her fingernails digging into my ass.

Her tongue bathes my cock and shivers of need and awareness slither up my spine. I groan as she teases the head, sucking just the tip in her mouth.

“Max,” She whispers my name, slipping her tongue along every crevice and tasting my pre-cum.

“Kitten…”

She kisses down my shaft, her tongue lightly flicking and teasing me. Her hand starts at the base of my cock, gripping me tightly and pumps me torturously slowly.

“I thought you’d never wake up, Max.”

“Take that shirt off. If you’re going to suck me, you’re going to do it without hiding your body from me.”

She sits back on her heels and pulls my shirt over her head, throwing it on the floor. Beautiful.

“Now, let me see you play with those tits.”

She gets a look on her face, almost as if she’s daring me to reprimand her. The challenge on her face attracts me like nothing else. I want to watch it slowly change into a look of need so intense that she’s begging me for release. I can’t allow myself to go that far. Tess deserves more than a quick roll in the hay with a marked man.  Still, I am not strong enough to turn what she’s offering right now, away. It may be all I get, and I want to savor it.

Her hands cup under her breasts, pushing them together as if she is serving them to me and while that’s something I’d love for her to do, it is not what I want right now. I reach down to pull my jogging pants back up. She knows what I want. If she’s not going to do it, then this game needs to end right here. I don’t tell her what I need; that would defeat the purpose.  She lets out a small hum, and then her fingers move to her mouth. I watch as she sucks two fingers into her mouth, making them moist.  I shake my head no, and she freezes.

“I want your pussy on those fucking nipples when I suck them,” I order, pulling my cock back out to stroke and enjoy the show.

I wasn’t sure of what to expect. Tess surprises me though, and I watch as her fingers disappear into her pussy.  It’s so fucking hot to watch as her breath becomes ragged as she rubs her fingers over her clit.

“That’s my good girl,” I praise as her fingers brush over her hard nipples making them glow all shiny and wet.  “Pull on them.”  She follows my command immediately. Her head falls back as she moans. Beautiful. The word comes again, but then that word is Tess. She’s the single most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. “Now feed me your nipples. Let me taste you.” It wasn’t what I had planned, but I find watching her, I can’t stop myself.

Tess cups her hands under her breasts again, goes up on her knees, and leans into me, feeding one of her nipples into my mouth. I latch onto it greedily, groaning as her essence explodes on my tongue. I make sure I suck every trace of her juice off and leave a love bite behind. The small pain makes her hips thrust into the air.  She’s so fucking responsive.  I switch my attention to the other breast, repeating myself, but by the time I finish with her this time her hands have wrapped around my head and her nails are clawing into my skin as she holds me tight against her breast, begging for more.

“Show me how you make yourself come, Tess,” I order her, my voice laden with need.

She pulls away carefully, her eyes are dilated and almost glowing, she’s so far gone.  She uses one hand on her nipple, pulling it hard, then pinching it and repeating. At the same time, her other hand caresses her clit, over and over in small, half circle actions. It doesn’t take her long, mere minutes, and she’s thrusting against her hand and calling out my name as she gives herself over to the orgasm.

“Feed me,” I rasp and watch as her eyes open. She traces the outside of my lips with her desire-soaked fingers, and I cease her teasing by capturing them in my mouth and using my tongue to enjoy her, I suck them clean. I’ve barely released them before her lips crash down on mine, and she kisses me roughly. It’s a hard, passion-filled kiss. Tongues go to war; teeth clash, and we fight for dominance. I think I might have won this battle, but I’m certain she’s gained the biggest victory. I’ll never be able to kiss another woman without remembering her. Hell, any other woman would pale to her anyway.

She positions herself back between my legs, impatient to take up where she left off. Her tongue darts around my slick head, lapping me up like an eager little pussy. Had I not just watched her get herself off, and had the taste of her sweet cream in my mouth I might have been okay with her teasing. Trouble is, I have just had all that, and I can’t take anymore.

“If you’re going to suck your man, Kitten, you’re going to take it all right now,” I groan. My hands go to cup her face, my fingers brushing her lovingly on the side of her face and then I position my cock at her lips.  She opens and my dick disappears into that hot, wet, cavern. Inch by inch I disappear in that sweet mouth until I hit the back of her throat. She swallows around my cock, and the sensation proves too much. I’m not a gentle man, and I’m way too far gone now to try and be that man right now. My hand wraps in her hair, and I take over completely, fucking her face. There’s no other way to put it. She’s helpless to do anything but to suck me down. My balls tighten, and her nails are biting into the sides of my thighs. I feel that long forgotten zip of heat run down my spine and then it’s over. I’m coming so hard I can do nothing but call out her name as she drinks down my cum.

It could have been hours, I have no idea. I don’t think I’ve ever been so sated in my life. I’m sure it’s only minutes though, when her voice whispers into my ear.

“If I’m dreaming, don’t wake me up.”

“I think that’s my line,” I tell her; kissing the top of her head and squeezing her. I can’t ever remember feeling so satisfied in my life. Hell, I’m on the run from the law, but still have a peace inside of me.

“Max,” she whispers my name against my chest and it sounds like a song—one with a sweet melody.  It makes my chest go tight.  She buries her head into my chest and places a kiss above my heart, and I could swear the damn thing stops. “What are we doing today?” she prompts, as she pulls away and tries to tame her hair.

“We need to go topside and start heading towards town,” I tell her with regret. She turns to me, and our eyes lock and the sadness in hers lets me know she understands exactly, what that means.  “Tess…”

“It’s okay, Max. I get it,” she answers, pasting a fake smile on her face before coming over and letting her lips claim mine. It’s a sweet kiss, full of flavor—her flavor, which is fast becoming the only one I would ever need.

We enjoy a long leisurely kiss, my fingers absently combing through the ends of her hair. It’s not a kiss to stir excitement, instead it feels more like a vow between us, one that seals our fates and makes sure we stay connected. Jesus, I’m starting to sound like a Hallmark card.

“We should get moving.  Find more of that breakfast crap,” she says against my lips, her eyes still closed.

“Breakfast crap?” I ask through a smile.

“I’d die for a cinnamon roll right now, or heck, even a candy bar.”

“How about oatmeal instead? I might be able to find some chocolate chips to put in it?” I offer.

“Anything chocolate would be greatly appreciated, kind sir,” she quips as I stand up and give her one last hug. I hate it, but she’s right; we need to get moving.

The rest of the morning is filled with breakfast and searching through the bunker’s supplies for items we can take with us for our trek.  The way I have it figured; we will have to travel one more night to get farther away from Ormond. Then, I can take Tess back into civilization.  Taking her back into Ormond would be suicide, and suddenly I’m finding I might have a reason to live, at least a little longer. Until I’m forced to give her up.

13

Tess

We’ve been walking for a couple of hours. Max found me a pair of his Uncle’s old hunting boots and some thick wool socks. They’re big, but they sure don’t hurt my feet like my shoes did.   I’m still wearing his flannel shirt along with my dress pants. I know I look insane, but after the morning I’ve had, I feel beautiful.  After months of dreaming about Max, having a taste of the reality exceeded my wildest dreams. For the hundredth time this morning alone, I wish that mine and Max’s circumstances were different. I don’t even know how to explain that deep down inside I feel like the two of us were made for each other. I have since hearing his name. It doesn’t make any sense but as time goes by, I just don’t care. That’s how it is, and I don’t want to waste what precious minutes I have left with him. I’d rather experience him.

“You’re not very talkative today, Max.”

“I’m not the talkative one in this duo, Kitten.”

“Well I need conversation if you expect me to walk anymore, ‘cause I’m getting really tired of walking. When I get back to civilization, I may never walk again.”

“Might make getting around difficult.”

“Yeah. I need to win the lottery, and then I can hire people to come and carry me wherever I need to go.”

“Carry you?”

“Yeah, I need minions.  That’s definitely going to take winning the lottery.”

“Money doesn’t always solve all your problems, Tess.”

“Yeah well, it sure would be better than dodging phone calls,” I tell him before I catch myself. It’s not that I mind him hearing about my student loans, I just rather not talk about it at all.

“Is that why you’re working for the lawyer and his pill of a wife?”

I shrug, starting to feel uncomfortable, in the grand scheme of things my problems are small. Max is the one who faces real danger.

“Tell me, Tess,” he orders and I almost do it, before I catch myself.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me something in exchange.”

“In exchange?”

“Surely the concept isn’t that Greek to you Max; it’s called compromise.”

“I believe I’ve heard of it once or twice.”

“So, my turn first, since you already have your question for me.  Tell me, Max. Bugs Bunny or Yosemite Sam.”

He stops walking, and I nearly plow into him. He turns to look at me like I’ve lost my mind.  “What on Earth are you talking about?” he asks.

“You know, cartoons. Oh good Lord, Max! Please tell me you know what a cartoon is?”

He exhales loudly like he’s so put out with me he can’t take another step, and then grins.  “The Smurfs.”

I stop in my tracks. I look up at this buff, muscled, god of a man, and hear him say The Smurfs. I lose it and laugh so hard, I have tears. He reaches out his hand to help me step over a large fallen tree that’s on our pathway before I finally gain control.

“I don’t find it that funny,” he grumbles good-naturedly.

“The Smurfs are just so…well, they’re not very manly, Max.”

“The Smurfs are the manliest cartoon around; I can’t believe you don’t see that, Tess.”

“How do you figure?” I question, trying to act like I’m taking him seriously.

“One lone girl in an entire village of men? C’mon now that’s the script to a seventies porn movie if ever there was one.”

“Oh my god!”  I exclaim, because words kind of fail me.

“I see you agree. Now it’s your turn to answer. Are your bills why you work for your asshole of a boss?”

“How do you know he’s an asshole?”

“He sent you alone to a federal prison, for one. And two, you pretty much told me that in one of your tirades.”

“I don’t have tirades, and yeah. I mean, I think you’re supposed to get free rides or help for college when you’re a ward of the state, but I got mixed up with the wrong crowd when I first started and kind of flunked out the first semester.  By the time I wised up, I had to do it on my own. Which I did, eventually, but yeah, I have a mountain of debt to pay. I’ll get it sorted someday though,” I shrug, not comfortable revealing how stupid I’ve been to waste that kind of opportunity.  “Hey listen, I know you’re slave driver and all, but would you mind a lot if we take a small break? A minute tops, I just need to catch my breath.”

“Go ahead and sit on that rock. I’ll look around and see if I can find a place to refill our canteens.”

I nod my assent gratefully.  We found canteens in the bunker and Max filled them up with some of the bottled water. I still wasn’t crazy about drinking from them. I had always heard plastic bottles are bad, and if the contents heat up too much, it can be dangerous to your health.  I’m so tired and thirsty at this point though; I overlook that nagging thought in the back of my mind.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes tops, Tess.  Don’t you dare leave!” Max, orders in his wounded bear, growling voice.

“I won’t, we’re just starting to have fun together, Grouchy Smurf,” I joke.

“I’m going to tan your hide,” he grumbles walking off.

“You promise?”

He doesn’t answer, and I watch him until he disappears. Then I let my real emotions show. I don’t want Max to see how upset I am at the actual thought of him leaving me. I’m not ready. I want more time with him.

The thought of not having any more time with him is cutting out my heart, minute by minute, and I think, by the time it’s all said and done, I may not survive. I hear some sticks break behind me and smile.

“Miss me already, Max?  That’s my secret plan you know. I figure if I get you addicted to me, you won’t be able to let me go.

“Don’t worry puta, I don’t plan on letting you go until I get my fill.”

I freeze as I hear that voice behind me. I know that voice. It appears at least one of the Hernandez brothers has found us. I can’t make myself turn around to see which one. All I can do is pray that Max hurries back and saves the day.

14

Max

I have no idea what I’m going to do with Tess. Each minute that I spend in her company only serves to make me fall a little further under her spell.  Somehow she even makes trekking through the swamplands of Florida enjoyable. I find a small stream and fill up our canteens.

I’ve got everything we need in my backpack. I’m not about to let Tess carry anything.  If this situation were different, if I could make her mine, I’d spoil her. I’d make sure every need she ever had was fulfilled. Tess needs to be spoiled.

I replay her story in my mind.  Ward of the state. She glossed over it but having been one of those myself, I know the hell she faced. Or, I imagine she did. She’s a beautiful person, so maybe she got lucky and found one of those rare foster homes that actually care about the child. Somehow, I think if that were true she wouldn’t be crumbling under student loans and other debts.  I need to talk to Marcum about that.  Marcum runs the Steel Vipers and is a scary looking man, but a good one.  His name actually is Marc, but we called him Marcum, pronounced like Mark’em because if you crossed him the wrong way he’d mark you somehow, to make sure you never forgot it.

I’m almost back to the place where I left Tess when I hear her cry.  My first instinct is to charge forward; I’m afraid she’s found one of Florida’s deadly creatures while I’ve been gone. We’ve been really lucky, so far, to avoid most of those. I stop when I hear voices. Hernandez and Dweeb, his flunky. I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that asshole would show up.  I should have guarded Tess better.

Hernandez has his hands on Tess—touching her. Touching what is mine. I may not be in any shape to claim her, but it doesn’t change the facts. He’s got his hand on her face, holding her tightly, and if he bruises her, I will cut off his hands.

“It appears Maxwell used you and decided to leave you afterwards.  Decided to scrape you off after you let him between your legs, did he?  Tell me, did you like having prison dick in your uptight little snatch?”

Hernandez questions her, his face right up against Tess’s. Maybe before I die, I’ll take another soul into hell with me. What’s one more black spot on my soul?

Then what does my girl do?

“Fuck you!” she says, spitting in his face. Is it possible to be proud of someone and want to spank their ass for putting themselves in danger at the same time? I am definitely there.

Hernandez backhands her hard across the face. Tess’s head jerks back.  From where I’m standing, I have a good view of her.  When she recovers, I can see the skin on her cheek is red from his hand. Dweeb, and I have no idea of his real name, I never cared enough to know, is standing to the side of them. So he’ll be target number one. I have the Glock I took earlier at the prison, wedged between my back and my belt, on my pants.  It was wet from Tess’s little swimming adventure, but I dried it out, and the ammo was fine, so it should still work.

Thing is, as much as I’d like to kill Hernandez, being with Tess is starting to show me things I never considered before. It’s too late for me to have a life, and I’ll never be able to claim her, but if I survive this, maybe eventually when I get out, I could at least check on her and make sure life is being good to her. Make sure no asshole has hurt her…Fuck, that didn’t sound unhinged at all.

Whatever I do, I need to fucking do it fast. I can’t let her get hurt. That is not acceptable. I watch as the bastard takes his knife, cuts her shirt down the middle and exposes her breasts, putting his filthy hands on them and laughing. Tears fall from Tess’s eyes as she tries to pull away from him, but he doesn’t let her. Fuck it. I shake myself out of my dream world. It’s too late for me. Tess is all that matters.

I grasp the gun and step out into the open.

“I thought I told you, Hernandez, to never touch what’s mine.”

Hernandez looks shocked for a second and then the bastard gives that slimy smile I’d like to beat off his face. I just might before I leave here. In the corner of my eye, I can see Dweeb pulling for a gun, so I quickly shoot him in the arm.  Dweeb cries out in pain and the gun drops. Hernandez cusses and takes Tess roughly, holding her in front of him like a shield and putting a knife against her throat.

I advance back towards Dweeb and make sure I kick his gun hard in the other direction. “Shut up your whining or I’ll shoot you again,” I growl when he doesn’t shut up.

“I don’t think you should be ordering anyone around, Gringo. That is; if you want your woman back in one piece,” Hernandez interjects.

“I thought I already warned you to stay away from my property, Hernandez.”

“What is it they say? Possession is nine-tenths of the law?  Since I have possession, it would appear, that the puta is mine.”

“Thinking never was your strong point.  Now you have about two minutes to give me my woman, and let us be on our way, or the only pussy you’ll ever get again will be in hell. Your choice.”

“Does your woman mean so little to you that you’d let me kill her, just so you can end me, Max?”

“I’ll put a bullet in you so fast it will make your motherfucking head spin.” I see him looking at me, measuring out my words, and I make sure my face stays impassive, giving nothing away.

“I just let go of your woman, and we call it even?”

“That’s the deal, but it’s getting ready to leave the table in another minute.”

“Except, how can we be even when you have wounded my friend there?  Dweeb will just slow me down now and make me vulnerable.  It seems I should be compensated somehow.”

“Fine,” I tell him and turn around and put a bullet between Dweeb’s eyes. Tess screams and jumps and the knife Hernandez is holding cuts just enough that a deep drop of red seeps and drips down her neck. It looks obscene against the milky white of her skin. “There, problem solved,” I tell him easily, doing my best to tune out Tess’s crying. Hernandez holds his hands up and backs away from Tess.

“Okay, gringo, I see you are serious about this one and…”  I shoot him in the knee. And give him a sick smile as he falls to the ground. Tess screams again.

“Get behind me, Tess.” She looks at me, her face stark white and tracked with tears and there’s fear, real fear, staring back at me. My gut clenches. With everything that we’ve been through, I’ve never seen this look on her face. She’s afraid of me. Living in a fantasy has been nice, but it’s obvious that is over now. Still, she does as I order, giving me a wide berth, so she doesn’t get close to me. Knowing that, sits bitterly in my stomach.

“Fuck you, Maxwell! You said we were even!”

I shoot his other knee and walk towards him. “I lied. I warned you, Hernandez. No one touches what’s mine. You really should have listened.”

“I didn’t…”

He never gets the chance to finish his sentence because I shoot him again, making sure to end it quickly. Tess cries out again and as I’m turning around to face her she doubles over and retches, emptying the contents of her stomach. I go over to her and gather her in my arms as she heaves, holding her hair away from her face.  When she’s done, she remains bent over and stiff in my arms, but she doesn’t pull away, so I guess that’s something.

I take the backpack off my shoulder and search in it to find a washing cloth and hand it to her.  She stares at my hand for a minute and then takes it.  Next, I hand her the canteen, and she rinses her mouth out and hands it back to me. All this happens without a word passing between us.

“Tess…”

“You shouldn’t have killed them,” she counters before I can say anything else.

“He shouldn’t have touched you!” I growl taking another cloth from the backpack and putting it on the still bleeding mark on her neck. She jerks away like I’m going to fucking hurt her, and that pisses me off.

“You can’t just kill people, Max. That’s not the way the world works!”  She yells, holding the cloth to her neck.

“It’s the way my world works!” I counter, not exactly telling the truth, but she’s got me so pissed off I might as well let her have it all. I turn away from her and start dragging Hernandez’s body off the main path.

“And that’s why you’ve been rotting in jail!  That is not a normal reaction!  That is not what you do, Max!  Violence is not the answer!”

“I warned you, Tess,” I growl as she follows me.

“About what? And what on Earth are you doing?”

“Disposing of the motherfucking body. Like I should have when I ended Renee’s boyfriend.”

“Oh my God,” she says and stops to look at me like she doesn’t know who I am. I guess she doesn’t.

“I warned you, Tess,” I tell her again. When I get to the edge of the swampy, riverbank, it’s polluted and stinks to high heaven. The stench is strong. It seems like a fitting end to someone who has led such a savage, horrendous life. I go through his pockets, seeing if he has anything useful, and I’m not really paying attention, so it surprises me when Tess speaks, standing right beside me.

“What did you warn me of, Max?”

“I warned you not to forget who I was. If you thought you had the answers and that sucking my cock was going to magically transform me into a fucking Prince Charming, that’s on you. I am, who I am. I am, who I’ve always been, and it doesn’t matter how good your fucking pussy tastes or if you can suck cock, like a pro.  You aren’t changing me.”

She stares at me for a minute, and I see it coming, but I don’t even try to dodge when her hand connects with the side of my face. She might be little, but Tess knows how to deliver an open handed slap.  I touch the stinging flesh, my eyes never leaving hers.

“That’s the only one you get, Kitten. Don’t do it again,” I caution her, and then I finish feeding Hernandez and Dweeb to the nearby gator population.

15

Tess

My mind is splintered in so many directions; I can’t even grasp a single thought that makes sense. I’m a mess. Max just killed not one, but two men. He was calculated and definitely cold-blooded. It was like he was someone else. No, he’s right. It wasn’t that he was someone else, it’s that my fantasies and the puppy-love crush on Max that made me romanticize who he is and what he has done in his life. There’s no way to romanticize what just happened. It was cold, ugly and horrifying. I think it may stay with me the rest of my days.

We’ve been walking for close to four hours. I know, because I keep looking at the man’s wind up watch that Max took from the dead man he called Dweeb. It’s silver, and looks uniform, and even I realize it most likely belonged to a prison guard. A prison guard, who more likely than not, is probably no longer alive. This is the world that I have been thrust into. This is the reality that came crashing down on me in such a huge, momentous way that I don’t know how to deal with it.

I get tired of trying to hold my clothes together and find another t-shirt of Max’s in the backpack and put it on to cover me, but I feel dirty.  It doesn’t make sense because Hernandez did very little besides groping me, but it’s like he somehow marked me inside. Part of me is glad that Max killed him, and I don’t know how to react to that. That’s not the person I am. Or at least, it’s not the person I was. The woman who wanted to work in law, to make a difference for other kids growing up like I did. I’m upset, and though part of it has to with Max and what he did, the bigger part has to do with me. He’s absolutely right. He did warn me not to forget who he was. The bigger problem is that being with him is showing me a new Tessa and I’m not sure how to deal with that, or even if I’m prepared to deal with it.

Max turns right off the trail that we’ve been following, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to question him and ask what we are doing, but I contain it.  Talking to him, would mean opening the door to talk about other things, and I can’t handle that. I just can’t—at least not right now.

He finally stops in a wooded area that feels more than a little creepy. I look around and see nothing.

“Max, what are we doing?” I finally break down and ask.

“We’ll bed down here tonight, and then tomorrow I’ll take you into town and drop you off,” he tells me in a monotone voice. There’s no emotion, nothing coming from him. I rub my chest because the difference in him hurts me. I can’t blame him after my tirade.  The more I think about what I said, the more I regret some of it. Not all, because it can’t be normal to think kill first in these situations. I’m so confused.

I go next to an old tree and slide down on my ass, letting it support my back. Max is a good twenty feet away from me, going through the backpack. He pulls out the wool blanket he’d rolled into a tight cylinder and tosses it at me. It lands at my feet, and I bend down to get it.

“You can lie on that, and use this to cover you as best you can,” he says without looking at me and tossing another large flannel shirt my way.  Guess he’s not planning on sleeping with me tonight. That’s probably for the best. “We can’t have a fire, so I need you to sleep now.  I’ll let you rest, and then we’ll start again using my flashlight,” he adds.

“But what about you?”

“One of us needs to make sure you don’t get eaten by a gator, snake or even a wild boar. Would you like for me to have a talk with one if it tries?”

I swallow hard at his words, trying to get the picture of that out of my head.  “They’re animals, you can’t reason with them, so quit being an ass,” I huff back at him, fixing my makeshift bed.

“Hernandez and Dweeb were worse than any animal I’ve ever seen,” He says taking out the bag of jerky. It might have a bacon flavor, but it’s a long way from bacon.  I reach over and take a couple of pieces when he holds the bag out, and then I turn my back to him. “Stay awake until I get back. Going to find some water.”

“Could I go with you?” I ask, hating that I’m asking him for anything when he’s mad at me.

“You’ll be fine here, Tess.  Just stay alert,” he says already getting up to leave me.

“No, it’s not that, I mean I’d like to wash off, you know?

“Tess, you just had a bath, we don’t have the…”

“Max, he touched me. I need to wash, please?”

I glance up at him when I tell him the real reason I want the water, and I see his jaw clamp shut.  His eyes darken, and I think he might deny me again. He doesn’t though.  “Suit yourself,” he says and then starts walking further into the dense forest.

I follow him. I figure it’s okay since he didn’t forbid it outright.  It feels weird that things are so stilted between Max and I. I don’t like it, but there’s not much I can do about it. He finds a small creek somehow. I have no idea how he manages to do the things he does. Maybe it is part of that soldier survival training or whatever.   He fills up our canteens and then hands me a bar of soap.  My hand shakes as I reach out to get it.  How can he be so thoughtful one minute and a wild vigilante the next? How can he rock me with kindness when I have seen the deadliness that lurks just below the surface? I wait, but he doesn’t really move.

“Max, could you turn around?”

He studies my face, and I can feel my face heat from the scrutiny.

“So you can suck on my cock and ride my face, but I can’t watch you bathe and make sure you’re safe?”

“Just turn, Max,” I tell him, ignoring his blunt words. I can’t let myself think about that right now.

I think he’s tired of fooling with me because he turns.  I waste no time taking my shirt off and washing everywhere Hernandez touched. I scrub hard, leaving the skin almost raw and red. You can’t tell I’ve been violated, but that’s exactly, what it feels like.

“Tess, sweetheart, you’re clean, come out of there, baby.”

The softness in his voice gets through the haze I’m in. I didn’t even realize I was crying until that moment. Max has the blanket he gave me earlier in his hands. He must have gone back and got it while I was washing. He wraps me up in it, and then picks me up in his arms and leads me back to our camp. I don’t protest; I don’t even think to protest. I’m pretty sure I’m in shock, and despite my confusion, I know one thing. I feel safe in Max’s arms, and right now I need to feel safe.

“Rest. I’ve got you.”

I’m crying harder, and as he settles us down on the ground, I curl back into him and burrow my head tight against his chest. I’m crying too hard to respond. Slowly I calm and concentrate on the way Max is combing my hair and the rhythm of his breathing.

“I’m sorry, Max.”

“It’s okay, Kitten. You were only telling the truth. Your world and mine they don’t mix. We both forgot that for a little while. It’s good we were reminded now, instead of later.”

“Max…”

“Go to sleep. We’ll travel when you wake, and by nightfall you’ll be in your own bed, and this will have just been a bad memory,” he says interrupting me.

“That’s not what I want,” I tell him and as confused as I am, I know that I don’t want to end things with Max like this. I’m not sure how it’s supposed to end, but not like this.

“Me either, but it’s how it has to be. Surely today showed you that if nothing else,” he replies and his voice sounds so monotone and final. We’ve gone too far, and there’s not going back. I have to acknowledge that. Max is right too, maybe our worlds don’t mix. My fantasies about Max Kincaid were just that…fantasies.

“I wish things were different. I’ll miss you so much. Goodnight, Max.”

He doesn’t say it back, and even that hurts. Just as I’m about to fall asleep with the beat of Max’s heart drumming beneath my ear, I hear him. It’s light, and I fight through my tiredness, to grasp the words.

“I’ll miss you too, Kitten, I’ll miss you too.” And it’s in those words I hear the sadness inside of him and part of me wishes I hadn’t. I hurt Max. I hurt him, and I don’t know how to fix it or even if I should. With each beat of his heart, my time is running out. What do I do? What on Earth do I do about Max Kincaid?

16

Max

I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Both of us sleeping is too damn dangerous out in the open like this. If the animals don’t attack us, there are plenty of people out there looking to do it. The combination of all the walking, the mess that has been the last few days and the sadness of admitting I needed to send Tess home, all combined to wear me out.

When I wake, Tess is still out to the world. She’s lying with her head on my chest, on her side. Her face is buried into my neck and her arm is curled around me. She fits me perfectly, everything about her feels right. Except that, I can’t keep her.

Tess is something that I never saw coming. I’ve lived an okay life. I was pretty satisfied. I had my shop, some good friends, cold beers, and what I thought were good times. I never had to work too hard to have a warm place to stick my cock, and that’s all I ever wanted.  I didn’t do relationships and had no use for them. When I made the decision to end the life of the man that robbed me of my child, I had no idea what might be waiting for me.

I’m not sure you can prepare for someone like Tess. Had I know she was my future, I would have chosen differently. I would have still ended that sorry son of a bitch, but I would have played it smarter, I would have called in markers and done it safer.

My finger traces the delicate curve of her neck and shoulder. She’s so small and beautiful. I want more time with her. I want…

“Max?” she whispers sleepily.  My dick has yet to be soft around Tess. I have three stages around her, hard, harder, and fuck if I don’t get relief I’m going to die. That stage is what I imagine overdosing on Viagra would be like. Four-hour erection? Tess has no problem inspiring them from me. With just her whispering my name I move into stage two, and I’m knocking on the door of stage three.  I want to groan out loud, from the torture.

“If things were different, I’d put my mark on you,” I tell her before I can stop myself.

“Your mark?” she asks hugging me tighter, and I’m in no hurry to move from here. This feels a lot better than her fear of me yesterday.

“A tattoo.  I’d want you to wear me on your body,” I tell her, kissing her just above her ear.

“Do a lot of women wear your mark?”

“I own a tattoo shop, Kitten.”

“Oh…right,” she whispers, and her voice is a strange mixture. I’m not good at deciphering women, I’ve never needed to be, but I think I hear the disappointment in hers. I smile.

“Not one woman has my name on her though, and that’s what I want on you, Kitten. My name, marking your skin. My name a part of you, so that any son of a bitch who comes near you, knows you’re mine, you’ll always be mine.”

She grows still, and I figure I’ve gone too far. Then her soft voice surprises me, “Would you wear me? I mean my name?”

I don’t even have to think about it. “Absolutely, Kitten. Absolutely.”

“We could still do it,” she whispers, and the temptation is so strong. I beat it down.

“We need to get going. It’s dangerous to stay in one place for too long,” I tell her helping her to slide off of me. I can’t allow myself to live in the dream world that tries to weave around me. I have a road already laid out ahead of me, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. I need to keep reminding us both of that.

“Where are we headed?” she asks sometime later. We’re walking towards Holy Hills, it’s an area near Ormond, and it’s also where the Vipers have their compound. I don’t know exactly, what I’m going to do, but I know Marcum will have my back and I’m going to need his help to survive. I look over at Tessa. I still want to survive, I’m trying to let go of the dream she promises, but I can’t, not yet, not entirely. Somewhere deep down inside, there’s a little spark of hope that burns from just being around Tess.

“I’m going to call in some markers to make sure we get you returned home safely.”

“You don’t need to do that; it’s not me they’re after, Max. You shouldn’t indebt yourself to anyone because of me.”

“They owe me, I just never cared enough before to call in the marker.”

“So, why do it now?” she persists, and I think about ignoring the question, but I don’t.

“I would rather not get shot to death in front of you, Tess.”

She’s walking beside me, but at my blunt words I can see her stumble in my peripheral vision.

“If you give yourself up, they won’t. I mean, we could tell them you were saving me, and we were walking back to turn yourself in. They wouldn’t have to know anything else, Max.”

“It must be nice living in your dream world, Kitten. I’m an escaped convict with a pretty woman who has been missing for days. They are definitely going to shoot first and ask questions later.  Besides, I’m starting to think I want to be free.”

“You could get parole, Max. It might take a little bit of time for a new hearing, but I would testify for you. You could get parole, I know it.”

I listen to her words, and the hope laced in them, and I know she believes what she is saying. I also know that the courts aren’t stupid, and even with her on my side, parole is a long shot, after breaking free from jail for a few days. There’s also no guarantee. I could rot away for years in that hellhole. Before, it didn’t bother me, but knowing Tess is on the outside, and I can’t take care of her, or watch over her, would slowly kill me from the inside out. I need to think. Problem is, I have trouble doing that around her.

“Please, Max,” she whispers, her hand on my arm.

“Are you forgetting I just killed two people and not a day ago you were scared of me?” The devil inside of me makes me remind her. Forces her to acknowledge our differences.

“They were trying to hurt me, and he was going to kill you. We could explain, Max. It would be extenuating circumstances. We have to try.”

I turn to look at her, and it doesn’t seem real. Maybe it’s the intensity of the situation; I don’t know. It feels as if we’ve been together a lot longer than we have. The plea in her eyes grabs me, and even though I know I can’t give her what she wants, I need to reassure her. The lie comes so easily. The relief on her face is my payoff.

“We’ll hold up at Marcum’s for a day or so, and I’ll think about it, Tess.”

Her sweet, full lips spread into a smile, and I feel like a bastard for giving her false hope. One more day I promise myself. I just need her sweetness around me for one more day. Then I’ll face what lies before me. Then I will let her go.

As we continue walking, I can’t figure out who is lying to themselves the most. Tess, for thinking it will all work out somehow if I turn myself in, or me, for thinking one more day is all I need or want.

It’s probably me. I’ve been saying one more day since the beginning, and I’m a big enough bastard to admit that I’m going to keep her longer still. There’s no way I can give her up until I absolutely have to. I’m just not that strong.

“How long till we get to your friend’s?”

“Getting tired?”

“Just a little bit, around the edges. Not so you could tell really. I could probably go for another week really,” she wisecracks.

My lips twist to keep the smile from forming.

“About another hour or so.”

“Or so? Is that like you’re telling me an hour, but in reality it is probably two or three hours?”

“That’s me telling you that if you talked less and picked up your walking, we’d probably make it in about an hour. But since you are you, it will probably be more like two hours.”

“That hurts, Max,” she huffs, but I notice she doesn’t argue with me. “Will there at least be beds at this friend’s house? And maybe even a hot shower? Oh good Lord in Heaven, please tell me there will be a hot shower.”

An image of Tess naked in the shower, my cock buried inside of her; flashes before my eyes and I have to adjust myself to keep the zipper in my pants from destroying my cock.

“I’d say a shower is a must,” I tell her gruffly. Her eyes follow my hands as I adjust myself. She doesn’t say anything, but the welcome is not there as it has been in the past.  I guess the ghosts from yesterday are still between us. I’m still keeping her for a few more days. I’m not giving her a choice.

17

Tess

Turns out Max’s friend is actually, friends and these friends are notorious in Florida.  The Steel Vipers Motorcycle Club are a bunch of hardened criminals disguised as bikers.  I do not want to be here.

“Max, I don’t want to be here. I’ve heard all about the Vipers.  They’re deadly and criminals.”

“What do you think I am, Kitten? I told you not to forget who I was.”

That’s the only reply I got. It shut me up like it was supposed to. That was thirty minutes ago, and we haven’t talked since. I was ushered into Dawg’s—which is apparently Max’s adopted name, given by Marcum, the leader—honorary room and locked in. I didn’t have to test the lock. There isn’t one. I’m locked in by the guard on the outside. A huge, boulder disguised as a man and given the appropriate name of Mammoth. They called him Moth for short.  I called him nothing because he was a good seven foot, and so broad he made ten of me easily.  He was marked in ink from head to toe and had these large, gage-like things in his ears that looked painful as hell and more than scared me.

I look around the, pretty much empty, room. The walls are paneling that belongs in the seventies. There’s an old dresser with a mirror that again belongs in the seventies and a matching bed with a blue velvet and a definitely, seventies bedspread thrown over it. Still it’s soft, and there’s a connected bathroom, so I don’t really care. I head straight for the shower, planning on using all of the hot water and not leaving Max one drop.

I make good on my promise, and it feels divine. The water works magic on the aches and pains that living in the wilds the past few days had given me. There is a scratch on my breast; I can only assume, left there by Hernandez, and I want to hurl all over again. I suck it up and instead wash myself raw again. I’m wrapping a towel around myself and walking out into the room but stop when I see there’s a redhead sitting on the bed popping bubble gum.

“Hello?”

“Was wondering when you were going to get out of there. Of course, I guess if I’d been sleeping in the Florida swamplands like you have; I’d stay in the shower for hours too.”

“Umm…yeah,” I say holding the towel a little closer.  It feels like I’ve been months without talking to anyone other than Max.

“I’m Cherry, sugar. I belong to Marcum.  He asked me to bring you some clean clothes and take you to the kitchen to find you some food.”

“I appreciate it a lot, Cherry, but well…I don’t think anything you have will fit me,” I answer, and I’m not lying. Cherry is everything I always wanted to be and never could be. She’s taller than my 5’6 frame by a good four or five inches. She’s all tits and ass, I mean it should be illegal for a woman to be stacked that well. My sad b-cup and, hardly there ass, weep at their failures.

Cherry laughs, and it’s a nice laugh.  She looks to be mid-to-late thirties, and she’s got a beautiful face to match the rest of her.  She seems like someone I would be friends with, which surprises me. I didn’t expect that here at the Vipers—especially from a woman claiming to be the President’s property.  I’m not even sure what that means.  Are they married? Is she like, one of many he claims? I don’t ask her because I don’t want to offend her, especially when she’s being so nice to me.

“Marcum mentioned you were kind of tiny. He said he didn’t know how Dawg bent you over without breaking you in two.  No worries, I borrowed some of Callie’s clothes for you.”

“Umm…Max and I well…we haven’t really…” I start to explain, and then stop because I don’t know what to say to that.  “Who’s Callie?”

“You haven’t fucked Dawg? Woman what is wrong with you. They say that man is legendary in the sack, and he sure is fucking easy on the eyes.  You take a vow of chastity or something?”

My face heats and I wish I had kept my mouth shut.

“I well, he took me hostage…” I defend.

“He could take any woman hostage, and they’d willingly go.  You must be crazy or something.”

“Who’s Callie?” I ask again because I really need to change the subject here.

“She’s Marcum’s.”

“I thought you belonged to Marcum?”  I ask, deciding since she left the door opened I’d walk on in.

“Callie is his daughter; she stays here sometimes. She’s away at school now. She’s small, like you, though she does have a little more in the chest area. Still they should fit.”

“You’ll have to thank her for me,” I tell her, reaching down and finding a pair of slim fit jeans and a green hoodie.  I could almost giggle in delight. “I don’t suppose you have some makeup I could borrow?” I ask, sounding almost hopeful.  Cherry reaches behind her and holds out a cosmetic bag.  “Cherry, I could kiss you!”

“Well, I don’t normally swing that way, but it might be worth it just to say I got in where Dawg couldn’t.”  I stop and look at her, and then we both start laughing.  I hurry and get dressed and throw some makeup on to hide the circles under my eyes and we head towards the kitchen.  Food. I don’t think I’ve ever been so hungry in my life.  I still haven’t seen Max, and I guess he figures that as long as someone is watching over me, he doesn’t need to bother with me.  It doesn’t sit well with me, but there’s not much I can do about it. A part of me wishes we were still in the woods, and I had Max to myself.

Cherry feeds me a BLT, and I will never take the taste of bacon for granted again. Once I polish off the glass of milk she gives me; she asks me if I’d like to walk out back with her where the rest of the women are.  Since there is still no word from Max, I shrug and figure, why not.

I don’t know what I expected when I found out we were going to the Vipers compound.  Maybe cement walls and orgies, dead bodies and skulls thrown around for good measure.  Instead, it’s like a giant community. When Cherry takes me out back, it’s to a fenced-in yard, full of swing sets and children playing and surrounded by a large privacy fence. It’s probably the last thing I would expect to find in a motorcycle club’s stronghold.

We sit down at a picnic table where two other women are talking. They’re dressed much like Cherry and me, jeans, and a t-shirt or sweater.  Somewhere in the back of my mind I thought every woman at a biker’s club wouldn’t be allowed to wear clothes unless it was like a G-string bikini.

“Tessa this here is Babs and Jinxy; they’re the other old ladies. Babs here belongs to Topper, and Jinxy just got claimed by Blaze.  Ladies, this here is Tessa, she showed up last night with Dawg.” I smile at them nervously, feeling very out of my depth.

“You Dawg’s old lady? That’s gonna piss off Jenna for sure,” Jinxy pipes up.

“I…no, I don’t guess I am…”

“Too bad, it would have been fun to watch Jenna lose her shit,” Jinxy replies.

“Amen,” Babs adds in agreement.

Apparently Jenna is not well liked among these ladies.

“Who is Jenna?” I ask because it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that her and Max have some kind of relationship. She’s probably the reason I haven’t seen Max yet.

“Club whore, and I mean the word whore. Some of the muffler bunnies are good women, yanno? Jenna? Not even a little bit. She’s rotten clear to the bone.”

Babs adds in another amen. She obviously is a woman of few words.

“Why do you let her stay around then?” I ask confused.

Cherry laughs, and Babs proves me wrong by speaking up, her voice sounds like a woman who smokes ten packs of cigarettes a day.

“The men demand it because she can suck dick like a Hoover.  Same reason Dawg even messes with her skanky ass.”

Something cold and bitter twists in my chest. I may not have met Jenna, but I’d like to scratch her eyes out right about now.

“Who do all of the kids belong to?” I ask to change the subject, wishing Max would show up so I’d know he’s nowhere near this damned, Jenna woman.

“Members of the Vipers.  Those two little blonde hellions over there are Marcum’s twins. Moth’s daughter is over there pulling Blaze’s kid’s hair. Charity Lynn! You stop that this instant or I’m going to have your daddy tan your hide!” Cherry says.  I watch as the little girl looks at Cherry, and you can see rebellion in everything she does. She’s an adorable child with pale blonde hair curled over her head.

“So, spill it, woman, what’s going on with you and Dawg?” Bab’s asks and suddenly I wish she really didn’t talk.

“I, well…”

“Stop being a nosy bitch, Babs,” Max says coming up behind me. He puts his hands on my shoulders, and I relax a little.

“Screw you, Dawg. You’re looking good for a jailbird.”

“Yeah, you’re looking good too, for a chick who’s stuck with Topper.”

“Fuck you, Dawg,” that comes from a tall, skinny man who has to be close to seven foot and barely has more meat on him than I do.

“Sorry, man, not my type,” Max says.  “Now if you ladies will excuse me, I’m going to take my woman back to our room.”

I watch the banter back and forth. I don’t know if Max is serious, but I do know I like being called his woman.

“Oh, Max is going to have a little of the old in and out,” Topper jokes and I’m doing my damnedest not to blush.

“Take old one-eye to the optometrist.  Get a little slap and tickle,” he keeps going on and Max gives him the finger and takes my hand leads me back through the compound, while everyone else is laughing.

“You have some strange friends,” I tell him when the door closes behind us, leaving the laughter and Topper’s comments behind.

“Yeah, but they’re good ones,” Max says and after having spending some time with them, I’m starting to think he’s right.

“So what’s the plan now?” I ask as Max leads us through the main room.

“Max!  Blaze was just telling me you made it back.”  Some skanky woman wearing a white t-shirt and nothing else, including a bra that she desperately needed, sing-songs, blocking our way from the main entrance to the rooms. I have a bad feeling this is going to be Jenna.

“Hey, Dawg, ol’ man. How’s it hanging?”  A man says coming out of the room zipping up his pants.  He doesn’t have a shirt on, and his chest is covered in tattoos, gorgeous ones, but I have a bad feeling this is Blaze and having just met Jinxy, I think he’s a douchebag.

“Jenna,” Max acknowledges, but his voice is tight.  Seems I was right. “Not bad, Blaze.  If you don’t mind old buddy, it’s been a rough couple of days and I want to get my dick wet for the first time in way too fucking long,” Max says. I want to punch him in the junk, but since Jenna is shooting me evil looks and douche bag Blaze is eyeing me like I’m the Grade A steak freshly cut at his favorite butcher’s I mostly want to leave.

“I thought you and I could party, baby.  Just like old times. I’ve missed you,” skanky queen pipes up.

“He can’t do that,” I interrupt before Max can say anything.

“Oh yeah, why’s that?”

“Because anything he puts in you isn’t coming near me, and I’m pretty sure that’s a deal breaker for him.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m…”

“Mine,” Max’s voice rings over the top of anything I can say. It’s cold and chills run down my back, but I don’t let on that I’m afraid it’s me Max is upset with. No, I stare down the cuntcake in front of me.

“Hey, I don’t mind sharing. Blaze here can give her a go,” Jenna whines, and it is a whine. Suddenly I want to slam my fist in that face over and over until I’m satisfied her crooked ass nose is smashed in enough that it doesn’t annoy me.

“Yeah man, that’s good with me, I think I could show…”

“No one touches Tess but me, ever. Got it, Blaze?”  Blaze holds his hands up in the universal no-harm-no-foul gesture, but I’m still disgusted.

“I wouldn’t want any other man, after having Max. They’d just pale in comparison, what’s the point?” I say and make sure my voice is thick with contempt. “Besides, I wouldn’t dream of hurting Jinxy like that. That’s something one girl shouldn’t do to another unless of course you’re just a skanky slut-whore…”

“Why, you bitch!”  Jenna says jumping after me, but I was expecting it, so I punch her hard in the throat. She staggers back, and I get ready to scratch her damn eyes out when she comes back after me but Blaze holds her back, and Max grabs me.

“That’s enough!” Max growls and his voice is deadly cold.

“Max, baby…” Jenna starts, and I jerk against his hold; ready to go after her again.

“Shut up Jenna and Tess, stop now,” he growls.  “Jenna, I have an old lady now, and I’m no longer on the market.  So respect my woman, or I’ll let Marcum know.”

“Whatever. Your ass will be locked back up soon anyway. I guess your time in the big house made you like skinny bitches.  Hell, you probably been bending over for…”

Max has my hands, and he’s not letting go of me, but I know where the bitch is going, and there’s not a fucking way in hell she’ll finish that thought. I still have on Max’s uncle’s boots because Cherry couldn’t find shoes to fit me. Suddenly I’m very glad I’m still wearing the hard steel toes.  I’m far enough away that I can get a good angle, and that’s the only thought I have in my head when I do my old cheer coach proud and kick out, catching Jenna between her legs. She cries, crumpling to the ground and Max jerks me roughly further away from her. While she lies there whining, with tears running out of her eyes.

“Tess, go to our room and wait for me!”  Max orders, and yeah there’s no doubting he’s pissed at me big time now. I figure it was worth it.

He turns me loose, and I want to spit on the bitch, but I resist, barely.

“Fine, I guess I should be glad her skanky snatch didn’t swallow my foot,” I huff.  That’s when I hear the laughter.  I look over my shoulder and Marcum and Cherry are there and they’re laughing, same with Topper and Babs. The only one that isn’t laughing is Jinxy.  She does give me a tight smile though, and I try to return it.

“Now, Tess.”

“Yes, Max,” I say, figuring I’ve caused enough trouble for one night and more than a little embarrassed that we’ve attracted so much attention.

“And Tess?”

“Yeah?”

“Make sure you clothes are off, and you’re bent over the bed waiting for me.”

I gasp and nearly swallow my tongue. When I look up at him, I can tell he’s not joking. A quiver of nervous excitement curls in my stomach.  I don’t respond but walk on to the room.

18

Max

I watch Tess walk away with a warring sense of pride and shock. I knew she had more fire than any woman I had ever known, but what I just saw here was something else entirely. The woman was jealous, fucking hilariously jealous.  She was so panicked over staying in the Vipers compound, and she has no idea how well she fits in with them. Hell, she could rule over the old ladies easily after the stunt she just pulled. She even has Cherry’s respect now; I can see it in the other woman’s eyes.

“It seems your muffler bunnies have forgotten their place, Marcum.”

“Yeah, I see that. What do you want me to do with her?”

“I’d have her wash clothes and wait on Jinxy and the other women hand and foot,” Tess calls out from down in the hall.

“Tess!”

“I’m going, Mad Max, I’m going. I’m just saying…”

“Too damn much…”  I grumble while the other women are agreeing with Tess and giving Marcum a headache.  I think it’s time I said my goodnights.  “I’ll talk with you boys tomorrow.”

“That sure is a saucy little piece you’ve got there, Dawg,” Topper says.

“I’ve noticed,” I answer, not turning around. I’m not sure I want them to see how big I’m smiling.

“Going to take a lot to tame that one,” Marcum agrees. “You’re a lucky man, Maxwell,” Marcum adds, and again I don’t argue. For once, at least in this minute, I feel lucky—maybe even the luckiest man on the face of the Earth.

When I make it to the room, Tess is sitting on the bed, still fully clothed. That’s damn disappointing.

“Before you start bitching, she’s lucky I didn’t do worse,” she grumbles.

“Why do you still have your clothes on?”

“I mean the nerve of her and what kind of woman would just sleep with...What did you say?”

“I said, why do you still have your clothes on?”

“I well…uh…”

“I gave you an order, Kitten. Now explain why you ignored it.”

“You weren’t serious though, that was just for show out there in front of everyone, right?”

“I never put on a show for anyone, Tess. I gave you a direct order.”

“But…Max.”

“Strip.”

“No.”

“Are you defying me?”

“I thought you were taking me back home?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“So you’re just going to sleep with me, and then get rid of me? That’s classy, Max. Real classy.”

“No, first I’m going to smack your ass, then I’m going to fuck you raw, and then when you’re able to walk again, we’ll talk about when you want to go home.”

“When I want?”

“Marcum is going to put us up in a safe house the club owns, for a few days. While I figure out my next moves. It’s entirely your decision, Kitten, but I’d like you to stay with me a little longer.”

“Max…”

“I don’t want to give you up yet, Tess. I don’t want you to go. Though, after what’s happened the last couple of days if you feel it’s best for you to go home, Marcum and the boys will see to that too. I know I can’t offer you much, but, for however long we can, I want more time with you.” That’s it. That’s as honest as I can be with her. I’ve laid it out, and the next move is entirely in her hands. I don’t think I’ve ever been nervous before in my life, but I’m pretty sure that’s what I’m feeling right now. She leaves the bed and comes to stand in front of me. There’s something in her eyes that I can’t read.

“What happened to my caveman?”

“He’s giving you one chance to leave.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I’m bending you over this bed and fucking you so hard that you taste me in the back of that pretty little throat of yours.”

She takes a couple of steps away from me, and I’m preparing myself for letting her go. When she pulls the sweater up over her head, I start breathing easier.

“This is crazy,” she says throwing the sweater down on the ground. “We’ve only known each other a couple of days,” she continues, undoing her bra. Her small, perky breasts are pebbled so hard; they look physically painful.  I love her tits. The perfect size to tease, or suck. Hell, I could almost suck them in my mouth entirely. Her nipples are pink, round and close to the size of a dime. They make my mouth water. Hell, everything about Tess makes my mouth water.

“For however long we have to steal from fate, Kitten, we don’t worry about that shit. Because I can promise you, it feels as if you’ve always been a part of me.”

Her hands stall on her pants after she unlatches the button and zipper. Her eyes find mine, and there are tears swimming in their depths.  “I felt that way, Max, from just reading your file.”

My stomach rolls and I wish yet again, I had made different choices. Then again if I hadn’t, I might never have met Tess. Fate is a fucking bitch.

“You’re taking too long,” I have to clear my throat to just get the words out.

“I have a problem,” she says and before I can respond carries on, “Your Uncle’s boots are seriously ruining the sexy striptease I wanted to do here.”

She huffs out the last part and sits down on the bed. I’m as surprised as she is when the laughter escapes me. I lower down on my knees in front of her. “Yeah well, they might not be sexy, but they came in handy when dealing with Jenna.”

“Do not mention her name in here if you want to get lucky, Max.”

I fake a heavy sigh as I finish taking her boots and socks off. My fingers brush over her ankles before taking one foot and using my thumbs to massage the balls of her feet.  “I’ve been slacking,” I tell her, picking up her other foot to repeat my actions.

“Slacking?”

Her head goes back, and she moans as I massage her feet. Tess is so innately sexy in her excitement that she steals my breath at times.

“In your training.” I put her foot down and then stand, waiting.

“You’re training me? For what?” She asks, as she gets up from the bed and comes to me, licking her lips—tempting without even knowing it.

“Me,” I answer as our lips clash, and my hands wrap around the side of her neck, bringing her to me. It feels as if I haven’t tasted her in months. I have no way to explain what Tess does to me. I wasn’t lying when I said it felt like she had always been a part of me.

Her hands push under my shirt, her touch feels like she injects electricity into my body. Her nails drag up my stomach marking a path as clear as the way she has marked my soul. I feel everything. My tongue duels with hers and owns her mouth. Her pulse jumps under my hand on her neck, and I flex my thumb back and forth over it. When her nails slide to my back, and they dig in tightly, pulling me closer to her, I know I need to move away. She digs those claws into me, and that small sting of pain makes my balls grow heavy and ache, with the need to release. I’ve fucked a lot. It used to feel the day was a failure if I didn’t have a woman to sink into before I crashed. Tess is different. She’s like finding a part of myself.

We break apart and drag oxygen back into our lungs. Tess is breathing so heavily her body quakes with the exertion. I’m not far behind her. I look into those emerald eyes that own me and the need reflecting back nearly unmans me.

“Pants…” my voice is so gruff I breathe and try again. “Take your pants off, Kitten.”

She drags air into her lungs, pushing her pants and then the thin lace panties she has on, to the floor. She’s naked in front of me, and my cock is demanding attention. Damn thing is so hard and ready; it’s physically painful.  She’s naked, her face flushed with excitement, her hair falling softly around her face kissing her shoulders. Her breasts are moving with her breathing; the hard, pebbled nipples are straining, needing attention.  Her pussy is bare and already glistening from her excitement. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life.

“You’re sure about this, Kitten?”

“Yes.”

It’s one word, but one word that seals our lives and joins us together. There’s no turning back now; maybe there wasn’t from the beginning.

“Undress me.”

Her eyes widen in surprise and then a soft smile spreads her lips.  She starts with my shirt, easing her hands under it and slowly pulling the ends over me. I bend down to help her get it off, and when it joins her clothes on the ground, she begins to kiss my stomach, creating a line of fire wherever her lips have touched. When her lips touch my chest and her tongue teases my nipple, wrapping it and pulling it into her mouth, I groan. My hands tangle in her hair, and I apply pressure, demanding, not asking, that she go down. I need her to kiss lower; I need more than she’s giving with this slow, delicious torture.

She looks up at my face, her eyes glued to mine and lowers slowly, accepting my command. Each delightfully wicked inch she goes her tongue drags back down, searing me. When she hits her knees, her hands undo my belt and pants, and I exhale my relief when she slides my pants down and gives my cock room, from the bite of the zipper. My cock bounces free, stiff, hard and ready for action. When her hand wraps around the base, I nearly come right there. When her tongue flattens and bathes my shaft and then she licks the head, spreading the moisture there and adding some of her own, my knees nearly buckle.

“I’ve missed having you in my mouth, Max,” she whispers before taking my cock directly to the back of her throat.

“Oh fuck…”

Her mouth creates a tight, hot, wet cavern that I’m dying to fuck. My hand is wrapped in her hair and on her third stroke down swallowing down every inch of me and my cock hitting the back of her throat; it takes everything I have not to use the hold I have on her hair and fuck her mouth fast and hard. Instead, I find myself pulling her off of me. She whimpers and finally lets go of me with a soft, wet, popping noise.

“Not yet. You still have to finish undressing me, Kitten.”

Her wicked smile is my answer.

19

Tess

I want to argue and complain when he calls a halt to my fun. The need in his eyes stops me. There’s something elemental in the way I react to Max. I’ve had very limited experience but being with him far surpasses anything I’ve ever experienced before.

I squeeze his cock in my hand tightly, before letting go. Max sits down on the bed. I’ve never dated a man who goes commando before. Right now that seems like a shame because Max does it so damned well.  Once he’s settled, I unlace his hunting boots that he’s been wearing since visiting his Uncle’s cabin. I get them untied and loosened up, and he slips them off. I set the shoes to the side, and once I’m done, make sure his socks are tucked inside of them. His hand is cupping the side of my neck. When he holds me that’s the first spot he reaches for. I love the feel of his strong hand there, almost controlling my next move—firm and unyielding, but somehow soft and loving at the same time.

He guides me up with his hold now, and I go back to my knees; bracing my hands on his legs. His skin is so hot and warm; his musky scent surrounds me. I think I could love him if I let myself. I could love this man even knowing about his past, even knowing what is before him—maybe even because of it. I could love him.

He spreads his legs out to allow me rest between them. His hard cock is rubbing against my breasts, and the warm feel of heated skin and the sticky wetness that is dripping off him might just be the best feeling I’ve ever experienced.  He drinks from my lips. There’s no other way to put it. His lips pull at my bottom one, dragging it into his mouth, once and release, twice and release, and then on the third time his tongue takes over in my mouth, enslaving me and I willingly let him. When we break apart, he keeps me right there and gently presses his forehead against mine.

“I was going to punish you for the stunts you pulled out there, but you win, Kitten.”

I’m lost in the spell he’s woven around me, and my body quakes at the thought of receiving his punishment. I want it. If I don’t get punished, how is that winning?

“Because you get my cock,” he growls and it barely registers that I asked that final question out loud.

“Max…”

“Come up here and climb on my face, Kitten. Do it,” he orders briskly, lying back on the bed at the same time, leaving his legs hanging off the end of the bed. The old me would have been shy, but it feels like I’ve been with Max so long that there’s nothing to feel embarrassed about with him. When I get up there, he directs me, so I’m straddling his face. I stretch out over him and hold his cock in my hand, stroking it firmly. I watch as a pearl colored drop of liquid covers the head and can’t resist picking it up with my tongue. At that exact moment, Max slips his tongue inside of my depths. I whimper as he uses his tongue to fuck me.  He gathers my cream and slides it to my clit in small circles over and over, before sucking it completely in his mouth.

My hips grind down on his face as I suck his cock all the way to the back of my throat. I’m not going to last long, and I want to take him with me. His strong hands bite into thighs, pulling me hard against his mouth and I ride. Take everything he’s giving me and demanding even more.  I release his cock and run my tongue over his hard balls, stroking him with my hand at the same time.

“No, Kitten,” he growls, sliding me off his face and making it impossible for me to keep sucking on him. I hold on with my hand, not wanting to give up my prize but eventually he pries my hand away and moves it above my head while positioning himself at my opening. This is it. I finally get Max inside of me. He reaches over to the nightstand drawer and pulls out a condom, and I frown. I want Max without anything between us. I don’t tell him that, but Max must see it on my face. “I can’t risk you getting pregnant, Tess. That’s something we can never risk with what’s going on with me.”

He has the condom on and he’s leaning over me his face so close to mine and regret is in his eyes. I touch his lips gently to hush him.

“We have right now,” I whisper, my other hand going down to position him. Max pushes into me while he sucks my fingers in his mouth. My heels dig into the mattress, and I spread myself as much as I can so he can sink as far as he can inside of me. Once he’s buried to the hilt, he looks directly into my eyes, not moving a muscle. His cock stretches me, filling me completely.

“Tess…”

His eyes are dark and so deep; our breathing is ragged, and he begins moving inside of me then. I squeeze his cock hard inside of me; so fucking hard, wishing I could keep him with me forever. My hips lift up off the mattress to try and chase him before he pushes back home again. It’s slow, hot and sultry and better than anything I’ve ever experienced in my life. It feels like we’re becoming a part of each other. I wrap one leg up high around his back, and he slips even further inside of me and it takes my breath away. My body curves at the onslaught of pleasure he’s giving me.

“Max,” I cry as I feel my inner muscles flutter around his hard, molten cock. I don’t want it to end yet, but it’s coming, and I can’t hold it back.

“Tess…” he says again, my name comes out as a hiss from his lips, and I fall over the edge.  My climax hits. It steals my breath, and his thrusts increase in speed while one hand keeps locked on my throat, and the other is digging into my ass, using the hold so that each thrust hits that perfect spot.

“Tess…” he repeats, and I fall again, but this time it is a different kind of fall. I love him.

The knowledge scares me. It utterly terrifies me. I love Maxwell Kincaid. I think most of me did before I even met him, and I don’t know what that means and I don’t have time to process it now. I see the beauty of his on climax move over his face. I shift and lift my other leg, so they both wrap around him tightly.

He sinks even farther with the change. His fingers find my center, teasing my clit while he keeps pounding into me.  Our eyes never lose contact. I do my best to hold off my second orgasm, just so I can watch his, but I can’t. The combination of his thrusts and his fingers prove to be too much.

“Let me have it, Kitten. Give it all to me,” he groans, and I can feel the warmth of his climax even through the latex.

“Max!” I cry out because this climax isn’t slow and steady. This orgasm is huge, earth-shattering. I’m almost afraid of the force of it, but Max is with me. I’m safe with Max. Somehow, I know I always will be.

20

Max

“Tess! Where are you?” I call out for the fifth or sixth time. My heart is beating hard in my chest. I’ve been looking right through the house for her and can’t find her anywhere. Tess and I are living in a safe house, which is a cottage on a private beach owned by the Vipers. Marcum set us up here, and we’ve been here for two weeks. I know we’re living on borrowed time, but I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in my life. Not until this time with Tess. Marcum and the boys have set me up with fake info and are pushing to relocate me across the border. I keep putting them off.  Marcum thinks it’s because of Tess and he’s right. The thought of leaving her, guts me. I thought time would help work her from my system, but the opposite is true. I’m more invested now than ever. I need to show her the papers that Marcum has fixed for her. It may not be fair to ask her to leave everything behind to move with me, but I can’t let her go. It will be freer there for sure. We won’t have to hide in the house. We could live a semi-normal life. We’d still be looking over our shoulder, but this way we could be together. “Tess!”  I growl; going past worry to panic now.

I go out of the back door, wanting to yell out her name again, but we try not to announce those, even if it is a private beach, you can’t trust it. I see her down by the water looking out over the ocean, and instantly my fear recedes.  It’s probably not healthy to be as obsessed with a woman as I am about Tess. It’s too fucking late now.

“Kitten, you scared me.”

She puts her hand over her forehead to block the sun, why I don’t know. There is no sun. It’s a dark, overcast, cool, fall day in Florida, and you can smell the scent of rain in the air even over the ocean salt.

“I lost track of time, Mad Max.  You worry too much.”

“We can’t be too careful, Kitten. I’ve told you that.”

“It’s not me they’re after Max. If they find me, I’ll be fine, and you’ll know; they’d swarm the house looking for you,” she says, and her voice is tense.

I sit down on the sand beside her, watching the waves crash. I’ve lived in Florida my whole life, but never cared much about visiting the ocean.  Since moving here with Tess, it has helped me breathe again.

“Do you want out? Is it time?”  I ask her, needing to know if she’s done.

“Don’t ask me that, Max, not right now,” she says and that feeling in my chest blooms again. “I’m going back to the house to fix some dinner.”

“Why not right now? I told you to tell me when you had enough; when it became too much, or you just decided you didn’t want this any longer.”

“Yeah, you did. You covered your bases, Max. Relax, your conscience is clear.” She pulls away from my hold and stands, dusting the sand off of her jeans and starts walking back to the house.

“Stop. Don’t you go another fucking step, Tess.”

She stops and turns back to me, but her eyes are shooting fire.

“Are you done with this? Do you want out? They are simple questions woman, fucking answer them.”

“You are such a moron,” she says, before turning away again. Since we’ve been set up here, I’ve pretty much let things become smooth and easy with Tess. She’s dealing with a lot of shit because of me, and I haven’t wanted to rock the boat.  But a woman, hell especially my woman, will not get away with that shit unless her ass is glowing red for it later. I follow and stop her before she reaches our back deck.

“What the hell, Tess? You want to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Why? What’s the point, Max?  It wouldn’t matter anyway!”

“Because you just called me a moron?  Because I need to know if you’re ending what we have? Because I deserve to know where your head is that? Name the fucking reason, Tess.”

“You are a moron!”

“Woman, I’m warning you!”

“Warning me of what, Max?  What you should have warned me about is that you’re pigheaded, a male asshole through and through and I’m tired.”

“What is going on? Jesus, you were fine this morning when I left.”

“No Max, I was half comatose from three orgasms.”

“See, fine. I take care of you.”

“Ahhh!  Seriously? That’s what you think makes a relationship work?”

“Tess. I don’t do relationships. Fuck, the most serious one I had, was with a borrowed club girl that made me sour on the whole damn deal and it fucked my life up so bad.  I mean hell, I can’t even take you out on a damned date!”

“No Max, you fucked your life up. You make the decisions you make and to hell with what the rest of us think or feel.”

Her words hit me hard, and they taste bitter. I step back away from her as I take them in.

“Tess, you’re on dangerous ground here. We’ve only been together for a short time. You can’t start acting like you got my shit wrapped around your finger. I am not that man. I will never be that man.”

“We’ve been together almost a month! A very fucking intense month that for regular, normal people time, is like six months!”

“Normal people time?  Bloody hell woman you aren’t even making sense!”

“You need to turn yourself in!”

My head goes back as though she slapped me.

“What the fuck are you talking about? We’ve been through this.”

“No, no we haven’t, Mighty Mad Max has been through it, and he just expects me to agree. He expects everyone to agree.  But you see here’s the thing!  I don’t agree. You need to turn yourself in! We need to start living and not hiding, because eventually they will find you, Max. They will find you, and when they do it will be bad. Like epic proportions, bad.”

“Tess, I told you. If I turn myself in, even if by some miracle I make it alive. That would be the end of us. The end of anything we could have.”

“We can’t have anything now!  Turn yourself in, Max.  You have to; there’s no other choice.”

“What do you think will happen to us, Tess? If I turn myself in?”

“I’ll visit you! I’d still be here, Max. I wouldn’t go anywhere. We could get married, they have conjugal visits and things. We’ll make do, just like everyone else, Max. We’ll make do until I can get you out of there.”

“You don’t even know if you could get me out of there. And no woman of mine is going to come into a jail to visit me through a glass window every week and have guards patting her down. That shit is not happening. Have you even thought this through, woman? What law firm would even let you work for them, knowing you were married to a felon serving time for murder? And shit, conjugal visits; do you know what shit is?  That shit is a joke, and I doubt they’d even let a murderer have them. You’re living in a fucking dream world!”

“No, you are!  We’ve been here for weeks, Max!  Weeks! And you still haven’t tried to deal with any of it!  It’s like you think we can just bury our head in the sand and live in this house and not worry about the outside world. It doesn’t work that way.  Eventually someone will find you, and they’ll shoot first and ask questions later!  Is that what you want, Max?  Do you want me to stand here and watch the man I love, die in front of my very eyes?”

It takes me a minute to grasp what she is saying.  She’s yelling at me, and her body is shaking from the depth of fear she has inside of her. There’s tears in her eyes and rolling down her face, and I really think this is it. It’s over. Then her words crash on me.  She loves me? She has to be talking out of her head. She’s only known me for three weeks or so.  Still. If she thinks she loves me, I need to encourage that. I need to wrap her up tight to me, so she doesn’t get away.

“You love me, Kitten?”

“I don’t want to talk about this with you, Max,” she says turning away to walk on into the house. The sky picks that moment to open up and hard, cool rain drenches us, and everything around us.

“Answer the fucking question, Tess.  Do you love me?” I yell over the hard falling rain and booming of thunder in the distance.

“No, Max!  Of course not! I don’t love you! How on Earth could I love you?” she asks, and my chest hurts. I don’t know why it was important, but the thought that she loved me…mattered. Her answer just adds salt to the wound she’s already opened. “I studied you for a solid month, reading everything I could about you. I spent weeks pouring over the laws and precedents to make sure you had every shot of getting parole. Then you take me hostage and wow, look, weeks later and I’m still here! I threw my life away to go on the run with you. I only give you my body every damn night! How could that equal to love right?  See, Max? This is why you are a moron!  Of course I fucking love you! Because the truth is I’m a moron too!  I’m a freaking lunatic!”

The rain has plastered her shirt and hair to her body. She’s breathing hard, and she’s so soaked I can’t tell where her tears start, and the rain begins.  But hope blooms in my heart. It’s a strange feeling for a man who has never had a heart, to suddenly feel.

“Then go away with me, Tess.”

“I am…what did you say?”

“Marcum got us new ID’s and papers.  Go with me Tess we’ll cross the border and start a new life. One together.”

“I…Max…”

“What do you have here, Tess?  There’s nothing here for either of us.”

“I…Max, this doesn’t solve our problems, it’s just running away.”

“We can have a life together, Tess. It may not be the life you pictured before. But it would be a life.”

“And if they catch you? What happens then, Max?”

“We’ll face that together. Give me this, Tess. Give us this chance.”

“Max…”

“I’m asking you, to give us time together, Tess. I’ve never asked anyone for one thing in my life until you came into my life. I asked Marcum for his help, and now I’m asking you to do this with me.  Say, yes.”

I hold my breath waiting for her answer.

21

Max

“You’re crazy, Max.”

“Is that a no or a yes, Tess.”

“I’m crazy,” she whispers, her head down. “I’m standing in the rain, soaked and wet, talking about fleeing for the border with an escaped murderer. They make cheesy made-for-television movies from this shit, Max. You’ve turned me into a cliché!”

“Answer the fucking question, Tess.”

“Go fuck yourself, Max!  Quit telling me what to do! This isn’t easy!  What you’re asking is a lot!  A hell of a lot!”

“Fine then! I’ll have Marcum and the boys take you into Ormond tomorrow. To hell with it!”

She looks at me, and her face is unreadable for a moment and then…then everything changes.

“It’s so easy for you, right, Max?  Just send me on my way. Simple. Easy. Clean. No harm no foul.”

She stands there acting like I have nothing invested. Maybe I don’t; compared to her. I know I am living in borrowed time as it is. That still doesn’t make this shit easy.  This is her fucking fault anyway. Walking into the prison and fucking up my life—making me want. Fuck her if she’s leaving anyway, I’ll show her exactly what being with a man like me is about. I’ll show her it all.

I stalk over to her. It’s a mere six steps, but they are steps that announce I’m done. Her eyes grow large, even with the deluge of rain pounding us both. I grab her by the neck, yanking her roughly into my body. “There’s not a damn thing that’s easy about this, Kitten. There’s not a fucking thing easy about me.”

“Max, I can’t do this,” she starts by pushing me away. I don’t let her. Fucking hell, she’s twisting me in knots, and I’m tired of it. She’s the one who made the decision to let me into her pants. She’s the one who spread her legs for me, even after seeing what I’m capable of. Turn myself in? Fuck her and the high horse she rode in on.  I’ll let her see the monster she’s set free.

I stop her with my mouth, swallowing her words that don’t mean a fucking thing. Love? She doesn’t even fucking know me. How dare she try and say that shit. This is sex, pure fucking, elemental sex and she craves it as much as I do! My tongue pushes into her mouth, owning her immediately. Her sweet taste mixes with the water on her face and does nothing but make her sweeter. My hold on her neck is hard, punishing.  There will be bruises there tomorrow, and I war with two different emotions. I’m glad. I want to mark her, and I’m mad that she would bring me to this point. She’s not stopping me. Fuck no. If anything, she is meeting every thrust of my tongue, everything I pour into our kiss, she’s just a step behind.

We break away as I capture her lip, biting down on it, pulling it. I can taste the faint coppery taste of blood, but even that doesn’t make me stop. Her eyes are on mine, shooting fire at me, but not stopping me. In fact, her sweet little claws are biting into my sides, leaving marks themselves. I’ll wear her marks though, any fucking day of the week. She’s got another of my flannel shirts on, and I grab the collar at each end and rip it apart. The rain makes it harder, but I’m so worked up by this point, it tears easily. She doesn’t bother with a bra these days, claiming I just end up destroying them. She’s right.

“Max,” she gasps, but I don’t respond. I watch as the rain slides down those taunt nipples of hers, and my eyes follow the path, the drops take, as they trail down her stomach. It fucking pisses me off that I can’t watch them travel farther.  So I unbutton the jeans she’s wearing and push the zipper down.  I don’t know what I expected. I guess I thought Tess would fight me but there she is, her hands greedily joining mine to push the wet, soggy material down her legs. She kicks off the shoes she’s been wearing and then she’s naked.

Naked; with raindrops caressing every inch of her soft, white skin. She pushes her hair out of her eyes, and I know she’s waiting to see what I will do next. She’s never been more beautiful.

“Turn around and get on your fucking knees, Tess. Now.”

She’s gasping for air, and a flash of something shows on her face, but she does as I order. I don’t worry about my clothes; this is going to go too fucking fast to waste time removing them. I’m too worked up, too close to the edge.  I undo my belt buckle and push my pants down just enough to free my rock hard cock.  I use my body to wedge between her and push her legs apart to make more room for me.

One of the things I love about fucking Tess is that she’s so small I can lean over her, as I am now. I can wrap my hands hard in her hair, just like now. Pull her neck back and dominate her from behind. Just. Like. Fucking. Now.

“You think this is easy, Tess? Do you think anything about this is fucking easy? You want to act like this is all on me? Spout your words about being in love with me? You don’t know a fucking thing about me. I think it’s time you met the animal you let rut between your legs.”  I let go of her hair and wrap my hands around underneath to hold her breasts, squeezing them tightly, maybe a little too tight. Her hips thrust up in the air, her ass rocking against my crotch. Searching for what I can give her.  I slide my hands roughly down her soaked body, the water highlighting the differences between us. Tess, soft, slick and sweet and I am the complete opposite, hard, callused, and rough.  I crudely grab the cheeks of her ass, kneading them hard. Spreading them apart and looking at the tight pink rosy opening to her ass. What would she think if she knew what I was going to do to that ass some day? Someday, very, very soon. Fuck, my cock throbs at even the idea of taking her there.

She’s panting now. Her hips pushing back into me, searching and wondering what will happen next. I slide one hand between her legs. My fingers sliding in between the lips of her pussy, raking against the tender wet flesh, finding her hard clit. I pinch it. Her body jumps, and I slam my hand down on her ass, the sound echoing in the rain as the water splatters.

“Max…oh god, Max…” she gasps. Her body is riding nothing but air because I won’t give her what she needs, what she craves. She’s not getting that until I’m good and goddamned ready. I push two fingers into her pussy. I don’t know why I worried if she’d be ready for me. She’s more than ready. I thrust them hard into her, curling them up to reach that spot that will rocket her into space.  I retreat before she has a chance to ride my hand and she cries out in disappointment.  My response is to slap her ass again, harder this time. Her body bows and she cries out. Her sweet cream flows against my fingers in a quick spurt of release. One thrust into her juicy little cunt and she’d set off like a bottle rocket.  Instead, I gather her sweet juice and drag it along the outside of her pussy and then back to her ass.  I drive my fingers into her ass, letting her own cream be the lube to aid me.  She cries out again, her head going down, her ass arching higher. She was made to fuck hard. My fingers pop through that tight ring of muscle and this time it’s me that groans at how tight and fucking right she feels.  I move my fingers in a scissor-like movement inside, stretching her hole. I withdraw slightly and then thrust back in, fucking her ass with my fingers, and showing her just who owns her body.  I bend over her, so I know she can hear me. I need her to hear me.

“I’m taking this fucking ass soon, Tess. There won’t be a part of you that I don’t own.  I’m going to own and brand every fucking inch of you. You think you could walk away from me? Do you think anyone else can ever give you what I can?” I growl.  I shove my fingers back in her ass when she doesn’t answer, only this time I need more.  I use my free hand to position my cock, and as I slide my fingers almost out of her ass, I slam my cock home.  There’s nothing soft and easy about it. I slam into her hard—balls deep. I want her to taste me; I’m so fucking deep. The thick denim of my jeans abrades the backs of her legs.  This is rutting. This is letting the animal out of the cage. This is me, showing her; love is not an option here. This is need—pure and simple. I set a rhythm in her ass with my fingers, matching it with my cock. I’m so close to coming that my balls are drawn tight. I can only concentrate on the rhythm of our movements, on the way I’m fucking her, owning her.

“Max!” She screams out as I feel her body start to writhe, and the delicate muscles in her body convulse and tighten against me. “Max! I’m going to come!”  She screams out again. I slip my fingers out of her ass, regretfully. I want to stay there. Hell, I want my cock there. Now is not the time though.  Instead, I use my fingers on her clit and send her skyrocketing over the edge and let her release trigger my own.

“You’re mine, Tess. Mine.”  I growl as I empty myself inside of her, claiming her in the most basic of ways.  When it’s finished. I don’t withdraw. We stay locked like that, the rain still coming down, my dick still deep inside of her, semi-hard, my cum filling her full, and our breathing as loud and as ragged as the thunder above us.

It’s only then I realize that I fucked her bare. It’s only then that it hits me that I didn’t even think to put a condom on.  Fuck!

What the hell did I just do?

22

Tess

I’m the whore of Babylon.

I just let Max fuck me, like an animal, in the middle of a rainstorm out in the wide open, and I loved every minute of it. Hell, I can barely catch my breath, I have his cum running down my legs, and I already want it again. I let a tiny mew of disagreement leave my lips as he slips out of me. I don’t know if he hears me.  He pets my back though, his hand sliding down it, so familiar now. He does it so often after we make love. It feels as if he praises me, and I wait for that. It’s as if that is his sign to me that he’s right here with me. That he feels this too. I nearly fall when he moves.  Max is right there though. His arms go around me, holding me easily as if I am a rag doll, and that’s exactly, what I feel like right now.  He stands up with me. The rain has practically glued his pants in place, and I bet the image would be funny if I cared to look. Instead I curl into his side, letting my head fall against his chest, wrapping my fingers into the wet material of his shirt.  He takes us inside; my eyes are closed, but I hear the click of the lock. I’m too tired to figure out how he locked the door with his hands full of me.

He walks me straight through the bedroom and into the adjoining bathroom. He sits me on the commode; the cold porcelain chills my skin.  He turns on the water in the shower and undresses. I watch, but honestly I’m so tired it’s all I can do to remain upright. Warm, delicious steam starts filling the room, and once he’s undressed, he takes us to the shower.  The hot water slowly brings my body back to life.  Max is completely in charge, and I’m woman enough to acknowledge that’s how we both like it. He positions me in the shower tilting my head back, letting the warm water sluice over me and slowly bringing me back to life. The smell of strawberries bursts into the small space as he begins washing my hair. I hum in approval. He bathes me completely, and I’m not ashamed to admit that when he washes between my legs and teases the delicate folds there; I hold onto him as he brings me to a soft, slow orgasm.

“So beautiful, Kitten,” he murmurs against my ear, as his fingers massage my clit over and over, with such unerring accuracy and tenderness that I can’t help but cry out his name and let my hands clench into the hard muscle of his biceps.  “Mine,” he growls, and he’s right. I’ve been his from the moment I read his story and saw his picture.  It doesn’t make sense, and I’m tired of trying to make it.  I may only get weeks with him, but maybe I’ll have more. Whatever I have, I will savor it. Fuck what anyone else thinks.

“Yours,” I agree, my forehead resting on his chest.

“You’re going with me?”  He asks, and I think I hear a small thread of surprise in his voice.

“I’m going with you,” I confirm, my heart speeding up in fear.  I’m going with him. I can’t not go. Max is what I have been missing my whole life. He brings that feeling of belonging with him that I had never had and always wanted. Maybe soulmates are real? I mean, who really knows. Maybe in the whole world, there is only one person you are meant to be with and when you meet them or even see a picture of them you know it instantly. If that’s true, then I don’t need to defend my actions or explain them. It doesn’t matter to anyone but Max and me. So, fuck yeah. I’m going with him. I could almost smile at how freeing that becomes.

Max grabs my neck and pulls my face up so he can see me. I don’t bother to hide the small smile on my face. I’m happy. For now, I am happy.  I don’t know how long it will last, but hell I could die tomorrow walking out on the street.  I’m going to take this time with Max, and...Be happy.

“I’ll call Marcum tomorrow and set things in motion,” he says, his hand clenching and unclenching against the side of my neck.

“Okay, Max.”

“My Tess…” he says, and I think it’s the first time I’ve seen a light in his dark eyes.  I put that light there. I put a light in his eyes.  Me.

“Always,” I tell him. He growls and takes my mouth hard and when his tongue finishes plundering me, and we break apart; I see yet another side to the tarnished night in my deliciously wicked fairy tale.

He grins, not a big grin; it’s a cocky, whiplash kind of grin that instantly makes my pulse jump and my knees weak.   He puts the soap in my hands and leans back on the shower wall.  “Wash me,” he orders. My lips spread into a smile. I like this Max. This all-conquering male, in charge and… my heart stalls. Happy?  That’s it.  He seems, happy. I’ve seen so many sides to Max, but I don’t think I’ve taken the time to realize that I’ve never seen him happy. My heart flutters and flops and starts beating hard in my chest, because that realization feels big.

So I wash my man. It doesn’t matter what he says. He’s mine as much as I am his. He doesn’t have to acknowledge it for me to know it.  I take my time, savoring every line, every scar, every beautiful inch of Max, and I commit it to memory. However long I have, I will hold on to every second of every minute of every fucking hour.

I might have taken extra time gliding the small green bar of soap along the stomach, down his thighs, around his balls and to that hard, jutting, hot cock that stands out so proud from his body; demanding attention.  Attention that I wanted to give him.  I don’t get the chance to act on my own thoughts though, because Mad Max, the conqueror, takes over. He pushes me down on my knees.  His hands, twisting in my hair again.  I firmly grasp his cock in my hand, stroking him up and down one slow turn, watching Max’s reaction.

“Suck me, Kitten.”

The nickname he gives me increases my pleasure. Does he know? Could he possibly know how much I’d like him giving me a pet name? How it makes me wet, hearing him call me kitten, in that gravelly voice of his, full of need. I give into his demand and take him into my mouth, letting my tongue bathe him, taste and tease him as I open wider and take him to the back of my throat. My other hand is still holding the soap.  I use it to slide firmly down the sides of his legs and the underside of his balls.  His moan of approval is all I need to know he loves what I’m doing. I increase the pressure of my lips, sucking him harder, hungry for the taste of him I know is coming.  I slide the soap farther back, pushing against the base of his ass, letting the bar divide his cheeks and give him a little something extra.  His grip in my hair increases to hard pull, but I don’t stop.  His large hand comes to the other side of my face and then he uses this to make sure he has control and he fucks my mouth. His dick, widening my mouth until it’s all I can do to swallow. Tears sting my eyes as he stretches my throat, and still I give him more, giving him what he needs, tightening my throat against his cock and swallowing him. The soap falls to the tub, the clang barely heard over the pounding of my heart and Max’s ragged breathing. My fingers tighten into his ass cheeks as I brace myself while he fucks my mouth harder and harder. His balls are tight, pushing repeatedly against my chin, and I know he’s close. He’s going to give it to me, and I’m anticipating it.  Until, he pulls out of my mouth.  I cry out in disappointment. I worked for it. I deserve the taste of him, the feel of him sliding down inside.  I don’t have time to complain, however.  I can only watch, hypnotized as he jerks his cock hard. His big hand, moving up and down the head of his cock, covered in pearl liquid, barely seen, and then disappearing as he strokes himself and then…he explodes.  Streams of cum shoot out landing on my face, my breasts, painting me, in him.  Scalding me, marking me in a way that I know is permanent and when he cries out my name and those beautiful dark eyes close in pleasure. I welcome it.

23

Tess

“Marcum looks awfully happy today,” I tell Cherry, smiling as I watch the big, burly guy throwing one of his twins up in the air then catching her.  The little girl cackles and hollers “Daddy” every single time. It’s a game that’s been going on for the last thirty minutes and shows no sign of ending.

“He always is when he has time with his babies.”

Conversation stops when Jenna comes out of the main building. She’s walking with two other girls, and clearly these are not, old ladies. She looks over at me and flips me off. I think about going after her, but Max picks that time to come over and wrap his arms around me, pulling me back against him, as he straddles the picnic bench behind me.

“Hey, Kitten.”

I can’t stop the self-satisfied smile that spread when Jenna huffs and curls her nose at us, before flouncing back the way she came. Inside I’m cheering.  Suck it, bitch.

“Where you been? I ask, tilting my head back to look at him.

“Finalizing some things with Marcum. Two weeks, Kitten. Just two more weeks.”

My stomach flutters at the thought.  We’ve already been in hiding for over a month. The Vipers connections with the law and the fact they own the town have helped, but is six weeks too long to be staying in one place? Are we tempting fate?

“Tess,” Max’s voice growls in my ear. It’s only then I notice my body has tensed up. He can read me like a book, and he knows what I’m thinking.

“It’s good, Max. If you’re sure, I trust you,” I answer, trying to reassure him and myself. I just can’t help feeling like there’s this shoe above my head, and it’s getting ready to drop. I haven’t really had the best track record with life.

“Excuse us, ladies,” Max announces to all the other women sitting around the table. Then, before I can object or complain, he grabs my hand and leads me back into the main compound.   The heavy metal door slams behind me, and I’m temporarily blinded, because the hall we’re in has no windows, and my eyes take a moment to focus and adjust.  Max is literally dragging me down the hall. I think he’s going to take me to the room we stayed in weeks ago, but no, he turns the corner and shoves us in the dark recessed area beside a restroom. My breath locks in my chest when he raises my hands above my head, imprisoning them in one of his. His other hand goes again around my neck, and he tilts my head back to look directly at him—demanding my attention.  “Are you having second thoughts?”

“What? Max…”

“Tess, do not lie to me! No one is twisting your arm to make you do this. You said it was what you wanted. You agreed to it.”

“You’re being an ass again, Max.  I’m fine; I’m just worried we’re tempting fate staying here too long. You asked me to go with you, and I’m going,” I huff.

“We’ll be fine. Marcum and the boys have the place locked down. You just remember to do what I told you and don’t contact anyone from your old life. That would do more harm than anything. They need to believe you are still being held hostage and that we are long gone.”

“I haven’t. I told you I wouldn’t. Jesus, you’re strung tight today,” I grumble, pushing my arms against his hold. It’s useless; he’s not letting go. Like everything with Max, it will happen when he wants it too.

“That’s because I bought you something today, and I can’t wait to get you home,” he growls, bending down and biting on the right side of my neck. The sting of pain is quickly followed by the sweet kiss he leaves, his tongue teasing the skin. I can’t stop the way my hips rotate towards him. Max has turned me wanton. A woman who craves his constant touch and attention. It’s been constant sex since that day on the beach. I’m not complaining, I’ve come to love the way my body aches from being well used and satisfied. Still, it makes me wonder if he thinks our time is limited too. Is he trying to store all the memories he can, up like I am? Is it even that important to him? Am I? Or am I just…available? Or hell, even gullible.  I’m so out of my depth most of the time with him.  “Aren’t you going to ask what it is?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts—thankfully.

“What did you get me?” I ask, tilting my head to give him even more access to my neck. His tongue runs slowly up to my ear and then swirls along the shell. He bites into my lobe, and when he hears my moan, I can almost feel his lips spread into a smile.

“A little something to get you ready,” he says cryptically.

“Get me ready?” I gasp when his hand reaches under my shirt, and he palms my bare breast, kneading it his strong hand—the callused skin teasing my straining nipples.

“Yeah, Kitten, I’m going to fuck that ass of yours soon. I want to make sure you’re ready for me when I do.”

His husky answer sends shivers of awareness down my spine, and the moisture between my legs should be shameful, but it’s not.  My reaction to Max is beautiful, beyond anything I ever experienced before and ever dreamed I could.

“Max either fuck me or quit torturing me,” I cry, squirming now has he has my nipple captured between his thumb and forefinger, tormenting it and making my knees go weak.

“Does my little Kitten need to be fucked?”

“Are you going to talk about it or just give it to me?” I growl when I fail, yet again, to get my hands away from his hold.

“I can’t give you my dick, baby. I’m out of raincoats, and we can’t let that happen again.”

“They’re condoms, Max, and I hate them,” I try to sound hateful, because I do indeed hate them, but his hand, picks that moment to slide down my stomach, pushing my skirt and panties low on my hip, so his hand has free reign to my pussy.

“Fuck! You’re soaked,” he growls, as his fingers dip inside of me, moving, through the cream he encounters, and raking the sensitive skin in one delicious, smooth glide. He thrusts his fingers inside while the palm of his hand rubs against my clit.

“Max, hurry….anyone could come in,” I whisper, riding his hand and getting more and more desperate to come.

“Let them. I don’t care if they all see me fuck my woman. Because you are, aren’t you, Tess? You belong to me. Don’t you?”

“Oh, God, Max, don’t stop. Please…Oh fuck…please…”

“Please what? Say it, Kitten. Say it.”

“Play with my clit. Make me come, Max. Oh God, make me come.”

“There’s my good girl,” he purrs, manipulating my clit like only he can. He’s right. I belong to him. I’m his. “When I get you home, where I have the supplies, I’ll give you my dick. I’ll bend you over the kitchen table and fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk afterwards.”

“Max…” I call out, oblivious to where we are now, needing only for Max to keep working his magic.

“Then, after you come all over my cock, I’m going to tie you to the bed and torture you for hours with all the pretty toys I bought you today. Hours, Tess. Hours, doing nothing but making you come over and over.”

“Oh, Jesus…”  I cry, picturing him doing just that and the image is enough to send me to the edge. “Max! I’m going to come!”

“Not until I tell you, Tess,” he says, the beard he’s been growing tickling the inside of my neck as he continues his biting.  I’ll have bruises there when we’re done. He loves marking me. Hell, I love it too.

“Damn it, Max, please.  Oh god, honey, I need to come.”

“Give me your mouth, Kitten.”

I turn my face, blindly searching, my body moving fast and hard against his hand and squeezing the hell out of it—riding it with all I have.  Our noses brush, our teeth bump and then his tongue is pushing in my mouth, claiming it, owning it and swallowing my cries as I come so hard my legs want to collapse. The pressure of Max’s hand on my wrist, pinning me, is the only reason I’m still standing. As he slowly leaves go, I give him the weight of my body, my nails biting into his arms, afraid he’ll let go before I can stand.

His fingers casually leave me, leaving a trail of wetness in their wake.  “Tess,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse and gravelly.   I open my eyes to look at him. His fingers are soaked with my wet, glossy, cream.  He runs his tongue over them playfully, before sucking them in his mouth. I feel my center clench, and I swear I come again just watching him. “My woman tastes good.”

“Jesus,” I gasp, and it’s the only word I have the air to utter.

He finally pulls my clothes back up, with a cocky look.  “I think all you should wear from now on are those stretchy skirts. That way I can fuck you whenever and wherever I want. Much easier access.”

Jesus. I may never wear jeans again.

* * *

Jenna

I watch as the little know-it-all-bitch twists her ass and walks away with Max. My Max. I had him right where I wanted him before that bitch of an ex of his went and ruined shit. Now he comes crawling back here, asking the boys for help, dragging along some bony-ass broad and ignoring me. That’s not going to work. He thinks he can whisk her away to Aruba, where she can have the life I should have had? Oh fuck, no.  That shit isn’t going to happen. Max is loaded, and that should be mine. If I can’t get money from him, then I’ll make sure she doesn’t either. Shit, he’s an escaped criminal on the run, right? Has to be a fucking reward in that somewhere. Just watch how fast that bitch leaves him twisting in the wind if her high and mighty friends on the outside know she’s not a hostage, but sucking a felon’s cock and begging for more.

I’ll teach her to mess with me. I’ll get her and Max both.

24

Max

Tess is like a sweet addiction. One taste and you just can’t stop until you get another one. And another. She’s over at the picnic tables eating with the Vipers’ old ladies and helping Marcum’s kids eat. She’s laughing and so breathtakingly beautiful.  I almost feel guilty for touching her, not enough to stop though.

“She fits in well, boy,” I look up as Marcum sits down beside me. I’m on the steps of the old garage across from the yard. I scoot over a bit, to make room for the old bastard.

“That she does. Don’t even think she knows just how well.”

“A smart man might think about getting his shit together here, so he can claim her right,” Marcum says.

I snort, I can’t help myself. That’s rich coming from his ass. “Are you actually giving me advice on women?”

“Would you listen if I did? You always have been a headstrong, stubborn, son of a bitch,” Marcum says, lighting up a cigarette.  I look over at him, the smell of tobacco filling the air. Some days it’s like looking in a mirror. I’m not sure how we’ve kept the secret as long as we have. The only one who knows Marcum is my old man, is Dusty, the road boss of the crew. I may associate with the old man now, hell, I even trust him. But his fucked up life was never what I wanted for my own. Which just goes to show you, never say never, because I sure capped any of the old man’s mistakes by a fucking mile.

“Probably, not. Too much has been done, now. If I’m going to have any time with Tess. It’s not fucking going to be with me behind bars, wishing I could touch her. I’d rather they kill me now.”

“She told Cherry she thought you’d get out pretty easily.”

“Tess is smart, she also believes in fairy tales and wishes coming true. You and I both know the world don’t work that way.”

“If wishes were horses…,” he starts.

“We’d all fucking ride…” I end, and he laughs, snuffing out his cigarette on the cement.

“So you’re taking her with you? Going to become what? Some beach bum?” he asks.

“Why not, I got the money. Might as well make sure I enjoy what time I have.”

“And Tess? What happens if you’re discovered?”

“You’ll make sure she’s good,” I tell him, and that’s not a question.

“Yeah, I will. First flitter you’ve messed with I can stomach. I tried to warn you to stay away from that damned Renee.”

“Yeah, that you did, old man, but then again if you listened to your own advice your dick wouldn’t have had more pussy than the local animal shelter, and I wouldn’t have ten brothers and sisters floating around Florida.”

“Eight, damn it.  Can I help it if your old man’s soldiers come out shooting bullseyes? Just remember you got that same makeup. I want grandkids, no fucking lie, but that woman deserves better than to be knocked up alone.”

“I’m taking care of it,” I tell him, but I can’t help the involuntary gut check, remembering that day on the beach. My dick hardens at the memory of emptying inside of Tess. Fuck me, I hope I am not like my old man.

“Good enough. How about you go and meet your baby sisters? I can’t help but notice you’ve been avoiding being around them since you got out.”

“No one knows, right?”

“I told you ages ago; I wouldn’t say. I don’t see what the fuck you want to keep a secret for. I’m a fucking great father. God knows I’ve had enough experience.  I sure as hell can’t be any worse than that bitch’s brother was.”

I shake my head as he mentions my mother. It’s an old argument, and he’s not exactly wrong. “Lay off Raymond, he was good in his way.”

“Old coot was crazier than Bessie bugs.”

“He did his best,” I argue, getting up.

Marcum stands up beside me shaking his head, “Just like I said boy, always were a headstrong, stubborn, son of a bitch,” he says slapping me on the back.

“Are you really running off with that rack of bones over there, Dawg?” My shoulders sag as I hear the voice, and I look over my shoulder as Jenna comes out of the garage.  I had been feeling pretty good.

Marcum gives Jenna a look that would bring the paint off the side of a barn, but the woman foolishly ignores it. “Remember what I said about that damned whore you messed with before, boy?” Marcum asks.

“Yeah?”

“It goes double for this one.”

Jenna again seems oblivious as Marcum leaves to walk over to the tables and join the crowd.

“What that old coot going on about?”

“You’d be wise to show some respect, Jen.”

“Whatever. You’re taking her with you to Aruba? What the fuck?  She’s like some anorexic fucking whore who tries to pretend she don’t get on her knees and beg for cock…”

I grab her hard by the shoulders, pushing her against the building.

“This will be the only warning you get from me, Jen.  The only one.  And I’m only fucking giving it now because for some damned reason I used to stick my dick in you. So listen up. You stay away from Tess. You don’t even breathe the same air as Tess. I hear from her or any fucking person here that you have been bothering her, I will make you sorry you were born. You get me?”

“Dawg!”

“I said, do you get me?”

“Is there a problem?” Tess’s voice rings out softly from behind me. Her hand touches my back as if to calm me. It works. Hell, I suddenly don’t want even my hands touching Jenna. I pull back, barely resisting the urge to shove the stupid cunt.

“No, Kitten. No problem here. Right Jen?”

Jen looks at Tess and then back at me, and you can see the resentment coming off of her in waves, but she wisely keeps her tongue in her head. “Yeah, not a problem to be had here. Not a fucking thing to be had here,” she says turning away and going back into the garage.

“Should I even ask?” Tess asks a heartbeat later.

“Just….”

“Cleaning out the trash?” Tess, interrupts and I can’t help but smile.

“Something like that, Kitten.  Let’s go eat,” I tell her putting my arm around her and leading us back the way she came.

“You know, Max, I’ve got to pray your taste has done a one-eighty while you were in prison.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well from your ex; to Jenna. Hell; if it hasn’t improved, I don’t even want to know what that says about me.”

I stop walking as her words register, and Tess walks on.  Then I take one large step and slap her hard on the ass.

She laughs, rubs her butt, smiles at me and gives me a wink.

I look up and see my old man smiling and giving me a nod of approval. Hell, who would have thought I would have wanted that at my age?

25

Max

“Max!” Tess calls out again. Her voice is hoarse, her body shaking. How many orgasms does this make? I’ve lost count myself. I just know that with each one she somehow tastes sweeter.

My face is buried between her legs; her body is thrusting against my mouth. That’s it. Because I have her hands and legs tied, spread-eagle to the bed. Helpless.  She’s all mine and helpless to do or accept anything but what I’m willing to give her.

My arms wrap around her hips, as I pull her sweet little pussy even harder into my mouth, eating her out and letting her ride my face hard.  Her entire body is shaking, and her clit is hard as a stone and pulsating against my tongue and lips when I suck it in my mouth.  She’s about to go over the edge, but I’m not ready for that—not yet.

I pull back, trying not to smile at her cry of despair.

“Max, damn it!” she cries, her eyes opening, but she’s almost too far gone, and not able to focus completely.  Beautiful.

I stand up, enjoying the way her eyes follow every move I make. I reach down and stretch my cock, my grip hard and solid as I stroke him.  I’m giving myself blue balls here, but when I finally thrust into her, it will be worth it. My finger reaches down to catch the thin stream of pre-cum that is leaking from my cock. My gaze moves to Tess and her eyes are locked on my every move.  That sexy little tongue of hers, coming out to lick her lips in hunger.  I can’t resist bending over and painting her lips with my finger. Her breath pants against my skin, loud and ragged in the room. She moans as my taste greets her tongue and sucks against her lips and my finger. Insatiable. Such a fucking demanding woman. She’s perfect.

I reach over to the tray I’ve placed by the bed and grab the medium plug I purchased earlier.  Grabbing the small container beside it, I get back to what is fast becoming my favorite place on Earth—between Tess’s legs.  I make sure I maintain eye contact with her the entire time, wanting her to see me lubricate the plug I bought especially for her. I make a show of it, enjoying the way those green, dilated eyes are drinking me in.

“Have you ever had two cocks in you at the same time, Kitten?”  I ask, and the image makes my voice harsh. Before, until this point in my life, the idea of that was fucking hot to me. The idea of Tess having that makes me want to rip heads off. I beat down that response. I don’t know what makes me so territorial with Tess, but it’s becoming clear she’s more than I ever bargained for.

“No…” she answers. Her voice soft and hushed but I can tell there’s a hint of worry in it. “Except for Rory…I mean, well there has only been you.”

I wasn’t expecting that. Dual sensations war within me. I like that she’s so free and giving to me, despite not having a lot of experience. At the same time, I hate this faceless Rory, for getting things from Tess that I never will.  For having her firsts and her…heart. He’s in her heart. It bothers me. It fucking irritates the hell out of me, and I can’t even begin to explain why. I clear my throat and try to get out of my own head.

“You’ve lost your chance, Kitten, because I own this body of yours now, and I am not sharing you.”

“I don’t want you too, Max…I only need you…” her soft voice replies and I ignore the small phantom pain those words give me.

“I can still give you the sensation of having two cocks in you though. So fucking hot, Kitten. Fucking your sweet little cunt while your ass is stretched.  You’ll feel so full and stretched, like you’re coming apart at the seams,” I tell her. I lay the now lubricated plug on her pussy, which is still straining towards me, even if I have been neglecting it for other things.  She gasps and I smile, spreading more lube from the jar onto my fingers. It starts cool on my skin, but quickly I feel the way it heats up on contact. “The trick is to make sure I have you prepared.”

“Max!” She cries out, yet again, as I push my index finger into the tight, little, ringed entrance of her ass. It pops through easily with the lube, and I quickly work to apply more. On my next go around I use two fingers. Her body jerks, her head goes back in pleasure, and she lets out one deep moan that makes my cock tremble.

“That’s it, Kitten. Take what I fucking give you,” I growl, unable to resist thrusting my fingers harder into her ass.  Her moan extends out louder, sounding desperate and that makes me even harder. I wanted to drag this out further, but it seems I’ve misjudged her power over me. I react to Tess in ways I never have before. That could be dangerous for both of us.

I’m pissed at her for making it so I can’t take more time. I wanted to spend the day torturing her before I found satisfaction. That’s not going to be possible. I remove my fingers, enjoying the wail of disappointment she gives. I’m a sick fuck, but I like knowing she’s being punished.  I grab the cloth I have placed on the tray and clean my hands, thoroughly. Then I pick up the plug and push it ever so slowly into Tess’s ass.

“Relax, Kitten. Let it happen,” I coax, smiling as she slowly opens up for me, and it pops through and sits inside of her.

“Oh, God. Jesus Max.”

“Does it feel good, sweetheart?”

“I’m empty, Max please. I need you inside of me.”

I take a minute to admire the way she looks, but I’m with her. I’m too close to the edge to keep waiting. I slap the condom over my cock, without much thought. That’s her fault too. Normally I would have enjoyed torturing her with every small movement and action before I give her my cock. Will I ever have enough of Tess so that I can do that? I’m beginning to think the answer is unequivocal, no.

There’s no need to see if she’s ready. Fuck, she’s so wet the insides of her thighs are slick. That works for me since I’m about to come from just seeing her spread out and filled while her pussy is crying for attention. I quickly untie her ankles, though I’m not sure she realizes it, she’s so far gone. I poise my cock at her entrance, regretting I can’t be gentle, but I don’t have that in me.

“Tess.”

Her head carefully turns towards me. Tears in her eyes, her body pushing for more than it’s getting. She’s on a razor’s edge. I did that. I brought her to that.

“M...Max…”

“Mine,” I growl plunging hard inside of her. I don’t give her time to adjust. I give her nothing but every inch of my cock as I go balls deep. I feel the pressure of the plug through the thin layer separating her walls. Her scream and the way her hands pull against her restraints worry me briefly that I should have tried to hold back, but then her legs wrap around me, the heels of her feet digging into my ass and her greedy little snatch is milking my cock, trying to ride it, even without me moving.

I lean over her, sliding out of her so that just the tip remains and then slamming back in. Each thrust pushing her up on the bed and making her cry out. I’m the one in charge. I’m the one who will make sure she gets what she needs. Only me. She’s moaning, and I catch my name, her pussy ripples against my shaft and I can feel the warm gush of heated cream even through the latex, as her orgasm takes hold with nothing more than a whimper from her.  I ride her hard, my balls tight and my own release so close, I can taste it, but I don’t let it happen. I push harder and faster, pumping her like a man possessed. Because I am.  I am possessed by this woman in ways that I have never experienced and never will again.  As my own climax takes over, the last thought I register as I look into her eyes is one that should terrify me.  She’s the only woman I’ll ever want. For the rest of what life I have, whether it be a day or even fifty fucking years, for me it will always be Tess.

Hell.

26

Max

“I think you may have killed me,” Tess murmurs sleepily, curling into me. I untied her and cleaned her up all while she was lying still on the bed. I don’t think her body had the energy to do much more. Hell, I’ve not had the workout her body did, and I’m almost as tired.  I place a kiss on the top of her head, holding her and staring up at the ceiling. I’m trying to process what the fuck just happened. This is sex, right? I’ve had sex since I was eleven. In all that damned time, it’s not been… Fuck, it’s never been like this. What does that mean? Tess is working her way inside of me, and I don’t know what the hell do with it all.

A smart man might think about getting his shit together here, so he can claim her right. Marcum’s words replay in my head. I close them out. Tess may believe in fairytales, but I sure as fuck know better. It’s sex. That’s it. Just sex.

“Tell me about Rory,” I command, desperate to find something that will put distance between her and the feelings she’s gradually pulling from me.

“Why?” she asks, kissing my shoulder.

“I want to know.”

Her fingers glide along my bicep, and I think she may be ignoring the question. Then her voice breaks the silence.

“Rory and I met when we were thirteen.  We were both thrown into this hellhole of a foster home. You know the kind where the responsible adults take in kid after kid for the check and don’t bother to take care of them?”

I grunt. Yeah, I know the kind.

“There was an older kid there. Mean. The kind that had been on the streets a while. He liked me, and I mean that in an every young girl’s worse nightmare, kind of way,” she whispers, and I hold her tighter.

“What did he do?”

“At first? Nothing. Just leering looks and lewd suggestions. Eventually, he began trying to get me alone. Touch me, because he could. That kind of thing.”

“And Rory?”

“Rory was a sweet boy, who loved me, and I loved him, but he was no match for Daniel. Daniel was three years older and a good hundred pounds heavier. Rory was small and built like me,” she says on a sad sigh.

“I doubt that, Kitten,” I tell her. Trying to joke and ignore the way it unsettles me that she cared so deeply for this other man. Just sex. That’s all.

She stops and then I feel her lips spread in a smile against my skin. “I didn’t mean that, Mad Max. Rory was sick. He’d had cancer from the time he was ten.”

“Hell.”

“Yeah. He was in remission when I met him, but the chemo had already played havoc on his young body.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing, for a couple of years, like I said. Daniel was a scary figure always over my shoulder. There was some touching and harassing, but Rory always managed to help and keep me away from him. I thought it would be okay when Daniel had to move out because of his age. You know? That should have been the end of it.”

“It wasn’t?” I ask.

“I think my Ms. Rhodes used Daniel for more than a check, because even after he moved out, she would let him come back. I admit I was young and naïve, but even I caught on to what they were doing upstairs while her husband was at work.” I let my fingers wrap in her hair and continued listening. “One night, the foster-fucks had put Daniel in charge of us while they attended some party. I was upstairs doing homework and didn’t realize what was going on. Daniel locked everyone out of the house and came to find me.” My body coils at her words and I wish I could go back in time and protect her. Tess should have had someone to keep her safe.  “I was fourteen, almost fifteen. Except for a few kisses with Rory, I was pretty naive. Daniel scared me, but I tried to act like I knew what he was talking about. Like I knew the score and just didn’t want him.  I had this mistaken impression that if I appeared to be the hardened, street kid, people wouldn’t fuck with me.”

“And?”

“In hindsight that might not have been the brightest approach. I don’t know if you know this about me yet or not Max, but I tend to make dicey choices, when under pressure.”

“I don’t know; I think I like some of your choices,” I tell her, capturing her hand in mine and letting my fingers massage the pulse points, for some reason needing this contact with her.

“Pig,” she laughs, but it’s a laugh that’s almost as tight as her body at the moment. She doesn’t want to finish the story. I should change the subject and let her off the hook. I can’t bring myself to do that. I need to know.

“Finish it, Kitten,” I prompt and she grows completely still and then sits up in bed, staring at the wall.  My eyes follow the way the sheet clings to her body and drapes around her soft curves, hiding a body I’ve come to know better than my own.

“Daniel came into my room. I had my headphones on, so I didn’t notice him until he already had me cornered.  When I told him to leave, he laughed,” she whispers like it was a dirty little secret. “I screamed at him to leave. I told him if he didn’t the others would find him, and he’d be in trouble. I stupidly threatened him with the law, anything and anyone I could think of.”

“He wasn’t impressed?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“If the smack across the cheek was anything to go by, then I’d say no,” she jokes. I shift so I’m behind her and lift her body over so she lies between my legs and against my chest. Her back to my front, her head tucked under my chin, and I hold her close. Her body eases against me, and she sighs. “He threw me down on the bed and ripped my sweater off of me. I can still taste his skin, even after all these years, Max. The clammy, salty, horrible taste of his hand as he clamped it down on my mouth to stop my screaming.”

“Did he…”

“No, Max. He didn’t rape me. I managed to bite down on his hand hard enough he jerked back. I was kind of proud that I drew blood. He punched me in the face then. I tried to scratch and claw, but he was bigger, stronger, and definitely meaner.”

“How’d you get away?”

“Long story short, Rory heard my screams, broke through a downstairs window with a baseball bat,” she tilts her head to the side and looks up me with this slight laugh. “You should have seen Rory. He was barely a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet, but he came running in my room like a conquering hero. He took the baseball bat and used it to slam Daniel on the side of the head. Daniel fell off of me and was unconscious on the floor.”

Tessa shifts again, this time to snuggle back into me and curl on her side. I try to ignore the way my dick semi-hardens as her ass brushes it. I clear my throat and try to concentrate on the story and not just how bad I want Tess, again, so soon.  “What happened next?”

“I think Rory and I were both in shock for a minute at how easily Daniel went down. We threw what few clothes we had into a plastic Walmart bag. Rory grabbed some food and drinks in another one. It took us all of ten minutes, and we were terrified the whole time, afraid Daniel would wake up.”

“He didn’t?”

“Nope, not a peep. Not even when Rory and I cleaned out his wallet. Now that was scary. I was sure he’d catch us. Rory insisted we needed the money to get us away from there though.”

“He was smart,” I say grudgingly—torn between liking this unknown kid and resenting him.

“The smartest,” she sighs. “We pocketed the money and Rory grabbed my hand, and we took off running. We never stopped running. From that moment on, it was him and me against the world.”

“Where did you go?”

“Florida,” she half laughs.  “We lived in Georgia then. Rory and I walked, hopped trains, and hitched. It’s a wonder we weren’t killed.”

“Damn.” I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this. “You got married?”

“In a way. Rory and I were a team. We loved each other deeply, but well…it wasn’t an adult love, at least not for me—but he was my world. We were teens and experimenting.  Rory was getting sick again. We both knew it though we tried not to talk about it. We decided to give each other our first times.” My arms contract against her, pulling her even further into me. Needing her closer, even if I don’t understand why. “Rory though, was an old soul. Or maybe he just knew his time was short. He said we couldn’t unless we were married because he wanted his first time to be with his wife.”

“Is that where you get it from?” I ask gruffly.

“Get what?”

“Your belief that fairytales happen?”

“Maybe. I’d like to think that Rory got everything in his next life that this one cheated him of. Plus, I mean with all the hell we had, somehow Rory and I found each other and that was good. That was pure. That has to mean something, Max.” There’s a pain in my chest at her words. I ignore it and wait, for her to finish the story.  “So, at the ripe age of seventeen, Rory and I went out on Flagler Beach and joined hands as the tide started coming in. We yelled out to the powers that be that we were linked together forever, husband and wife.”

“You’re a remarkable woman, Kitten,” I tell her, trying to work through the thoughts that I’m having, but unable to process them.

“It’s your turn now,” she says, and I sigh. I don’t want to talk about Renee. I’m about to tell her that when Tess, remarkable Tess, surprises me again.

“Exactly what is your relationship with the Vipers, Max? Why is Markum going all out to help you? I mean I’ve seen your ink, and it’s great and all, but there has to be more to your story.”

27

Tess

I think I’m holding my breath, waiting for Max to answer. He’s so hard to read and our relationship, or whatever this is, is so complicated. I find myself worried; any time I push him for more.

“What makes you think there’s more?”

“Umm…gee…I don’t know, Max. Maybe because I’m not stupid. What kind of man would stick his neck out, and that of his men, to protect an outsider?”

“I told you; I had markers I called in.”

“Yeah, okay,” I answer, letting it go and feeling the disappointment settle inside. Why did I think something had shifted with us since that day I decided to go with him? How did I forget the real reason I am in Max’s life? I pull away, thinking now would be a good time to get some distance. To reassess exactly, what the hell I’m doing.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he growls, holding me even though I’m trying to get away.

“I just need some air,” I lie. I’m hurt, and I shouldn’t be. I’m stupid.

“Damn it, Tess!” he growls when I finally manage to get off the bed, and I’m doing my best to stop the tears. I’m not a crier, so I don’t even know why I want to cry! But, I do. I absolutely want to cry, because I feel helpless, and I hate that feeling.

“It’s okay, Mad Max, I get it. I do. Just because I tell you about my life, it doesn’t mean we’re sharing. I’m your hostage.  I just forgot for a minute exactly what kind of relationship we have.” Those words bring out the tears. I hate that they are falling, I hate that I can’t stop them, and I hate that Max caused them.

“Will you calm down?”

“I am calm!” I argue.

“Then why are you crying?” he asks confused, and he should be. I am. So, I give him the truth.

“I don’t know!”

“Jesus, this is why I don’t do relationships. You women are crazy.  Get back in bed, Tess.”

“I want a drink,” I grumble, glad when the tears seem to disappear as quickly as they appeared. Maybe I was just raw from talking about Rory. I don’t allow myself to go there very often.

“Hell, I need one, but if you want to hear this damn story, get back in bed.”

“Why? You don’t have to tell me, after all, I’m just…”

“Shut it before I tan your hide. And trust me after the workout I gave you this evening, doing that will leave you hurting, and not in the way you like.” His words are supposed to be a threat, I know, but I can’t stop the quiver of awareness that travels down my spine. “Jesus, Kitten, get the look off your face before I fuck you and me both into a coma.”

I huff and get back under the covers. I try to hold my body stiff against him, but he turns so that he spoons me from behind, and the heat from his body weakens my resolve. Max wastes no time taking advantage of that when he kisses the curve of my neck. Just one soft touch from him and my mind goes to mush.

“First, Tess, let’s clear up the fact that you are not my hostage. You stopped being that when you decided to leave with me. Whatever this is, I think it’s safe to say that we’re in it together now, right?”

I release a pent up breath at his words. He’s right. There’s no one holding me to Max now, but myself.  It’s time I owned up to that.

“You’re right.”

“Second, it’s not that I mind talking about Marcum, It’s just… I never really have before. Marcum feels like he owes me. It doesn’t matter that I’ve told him he doesn’t, he still feels like he does.”

He burrows his head against the back of my neck kissing me. It’s distracting, and maybe that’s what he wants. I’m not sure. I try to grasp his words, but I can’t help feeling like a very big piece of the puzzle is missing.

“Why would he feel like he owes you? Did you save the life of one of his twenty children or something?”

He squeezes me and laughs, “Tess.”

“Well, I mean it can’t have escaped your notice that Marcum has a lot of kids, Max.  The man must have like super sperm or something.”

“Can we not talk about Marcum’s sperm while we’re in our bed?”

I smile when he says, our bed.  I can’t help it. “Why not? Do his little soldiers intimidate you, Max?”  I joke.

“Jesus. How is it you always manage to bust my balls, Tess?”

“It’s a gift?”

“I’m beginning to ask myself which one of us actually got taken prisoner that day.”

His words give me a funny feeling, and it warms me. I don’t want to give myself time to dissect it though. I’ve already had one irrational, emotional outburst tonight. “Okay so, Marcum?”  I prompt because I really do want to know. Max is a mystery, and I want to know more and more about him.

“He’s my old man.”

I blink, lie still, and then blink again. Shouldn’t that have been in his file? How did I not know that?  “Your records never mentioned it!  How is that possible?”

“Because the old fucker has super sperm?”

I slap backwards, grazing Max’s leg that he has half draped over me.  “You know what I mean.”

Max sighs, his breath soft against my skin. “You’ve read about my mom?” he asks, and I swallow hard because I have.

Max’s mom had been raped as a young girl. It broke her mind. She spent her troubled life in and out of hospitals and being strung out on drugs. She got pregnant at the age of fourteen and had the baby—Max, while a resident in the state mental hospital because she tried to kill herself. I couldn’t even imagine how it would shape someone to know that the person who gave birth to them struggled with so much. What kind of scars would that inflict on you?

“I’ve read,” I whisper, like a guilty secret, wrapping my arm behind me and pulling him deeper into me, as if to protect him.

“I’m okay, Kitten,” he kind of laughs, like he knows what I’m doing. “It was a long time ago.”

“How did she and Marcum meet up?”

“Marcum is a horny bastard, until Cherry he never cared much where he stuck his dick.”

“But she was fourteen, Max,” I answer, and I can’t help the disgust that’s in my voice.

“That’s part of the reason he and I are just now starting to work through shit.  He says he didn’t know how young she was, or what shape she was in. Said she out and out lied to him.”

I turn over to face him, fitting my body tight into him and kissing his chest, trying to ignore the tears that have started up yet again. “You believe him?”

Max lets out yet another sigh, this one louder and more disgusted than before. “Sometimes. Most days I guess. I’m not sure how much he would have cared about her situation, but I don’t think he would have touched jailbait. Who knows? Men are stupid when they think with their dick. I’ve managed to follow in the old man’s footsteps, despite trying like hell not too.”

I can’t argue with him, but I can’t help the way those words cut. Max must feel the change in me because he kisses his forehead. “Wasn’t talking about you, Kitten.”  That’s nice, but then again what we’re doing isn’t exactly healthy. I let it go. I could second guess and go back and forth about Max forever. I do that enough already.

“Your file said your uncle raised you. Why didn’t Marcum?”

“He didn’t know about me. Bastard came into my shop one day wanting some ink for him and his boys. Said he heard I was good. One of the men who work in my shop mentioned my mom’s name.  We’ve been feeling our way with each other ever since.

“Holy hell.”

Max laughs though it’s not a happy one.  “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up, Kitten.”

“Your father needs to think about having it fixed, so his soldiers only shoot blanks,” I tell him, and my eyes are starting to grow heavy. The combination of multiple orgasms, crying, and the emotional talk with Max, combined with the warmth of his body is slowly dragging me toward sleep.

“Cherry is making him. We get settled out of the country; I’ll do it too. He reminded me recently we share the same DNA.  That sure as hell can’t happen. We don’t need to take any more chances.”

My blood runs cool at his words.  He’s right of course. I hadn’t even been thinking of that, and we’ve been going at it like rabbits. Max is always super careful though. He never takes me without protection. That’s a must for him. Every single time he makes sure he wears a condom. Except for that day one the beach.

“I need to go to sleep, Max. You’ve worn me out,” I murmur because I need to change the subject. I need to think about something else. Anything else.

“Sleep, Kitten. We have a lot of things to do to get ready and we leave in the next few weeks.  I’m glad you’re going with me,” he answers.

“I am too…Night, Mad Max,” I whisper letting sleep claim me I try to shove my worry away. It was just one time, and it was nowhere near the right time of the month. I’m sure everything will be fine.

I’m sure…

28

Tess

Four more days.  Four more days, and I will have officially skipped the border with Maxwell Kincaid. I’d ask myself what in the hell I’m thinking, but I know. Max is dark; there’s not a soft damn thing about him. If I made a list of pros and cons, there would be only one pro.  I get more time with the man I love. The cons would be a mile long, but all of them together don’t equal what I’d have to gain. Four more days. With each day that passes, I’m surer of my decision. Unfortunately, that feeling of impending doom also increases.  Tonight my panic is almost at the surface. I know Max can sense it. He keeps casting me these looks, and I keep trying to pretend I don’t see them.

“Aren’t you going to read your fortune?”

Max’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts.  I try and drum up a smile for him. We’re sitting on the couch watching football, or rather Max is watching and eating Chinese takeout that Marcum had one of his crew bring by.  I’m not a big fan, but Max likes it, so I’m dealing with it by having fried noodles. The stench from whatever cabbage crap Max is eating though is doing a number on my stomach.  Stress and worry do nothing to increase my appetite. I hold out my hand for the cookie, and he drops it in my hand.

“Who’s first?”

“Considering the last fortune I read was the newspaper the day I met you, and it told me to go back to bed and not leave the house. I’ll let you go first.”

He shakes his head at me, but cracks open his cookie.

“Practice makes perfect,” he reads and looks over to me with a big smirk on his face. “You know what that means, Kitten.”

Just the look on his face is enough to make every feminine part inside of me clench and moan in response. “Down, Casanova, it’s only been an hour since our last workout.”

“I’m sorry, Kitten, I didn’t realize you required recovery time.”

“At least one of us does,” I respond shaking my head at his smile. He puts a kiss on the top of my head and gives me a half hug. “Okay, Kitten. Enough stalling, crack open that damn cookie!”

“Jesus, you’re like a kid! Are you like this at Christmas?”

“Worse, now quit stalling and show me what your damn fortune says!”

My hand trembles while I break the cookie apart. I don’t know why I would rather not read it. I just know I don’t want to.  I pull out the small paper while holding my breath. Finally, I release with a quiet huff of air and read.

“It is easier to resist at the beginning than at the end.”

It’s just a cookie, but the words lay there between us.  I look up at him, and he’s smiling.

“Look there, Kitten. Confucius is telling me to fuck your ass tonight.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not what it was talking about,” I tell him, but I laugh as I’m sure he intended.

“Tomato, to-mat-toe,” he shrugs.

His hand slides against my neck and he pulls my lips to him.

“Max,” I half moan, half protest.

“Tess,” his brusque voice whispers back, then his sweet lips touch mine, barely touching mine at first though his tongue comes out to tease against mine.

Rinnnnnng.

The sharp shrill of the phone rings. We don’t answer it, for obvious reasons. There’s a procedure to be followed. I know Max and I both are holding our breath. The phone isn’t supposed to ring. The club uses Max’s burn phone. The only time the house phone is supposed to be used is if there is trouble.   The phone rings a few times and then stops. Simultaneously, a cold sweat breaks out over my skin.  I’m almost starting to breathe normally, and I know Max’s body starts to relax when the phone rings again.   Shit.

I look at him, and he gives me silent encouragement.  My hand shakes as I reach over to the phone. I clear my suddenly dry throat because it feels like my tongue is heavy, and I may choke on it.

“Hello?”  I ask, my hand holding the phone as if it were my greatest enemy, and I think it might be right now.

“Hey Cherry, Marcum wanted to make sure you weren’t having trouble, asked me to call.”

My heart flips over in my chest as one of Marcum’s men speaks over the phone. I can’t even remember his name, but I know what this call is. It’s a warning; the cops are on to Max.  “I’m on my way. One of the twins fell asleep and put me behind. Tell him to stop worrying.”  I feel Max get up and his harsh curse echo in the room.

“Got it. Better get a move on, Cherry. Marcum has been sitting on his head for the last ten minutes.”

“Will do.” I hang up and jump up going to get the overnight bag that I’ve packed for Max and I. I stuff the forgotten fortune into the pocket of my jeans.

“Time?”  Max barks, putting on his hiking boots and then looking out the windows carefully.

“He mentioned ten minutes?” I answer, panic swamping my voice.

“Fuck!”

That pretty much sums it up I think, running back into the room, the backpack over my shoulder and my tennis shoes now firmly on my feet.  That uneasy feeling in my stomach intensifies.  “How did this happen? I thought Marcum had the police nailed down?”

“If they’re using safeguards, that means there’s a mole in the club.”

“Great,” I whisper and those damn tears I seem to keep crying lately, are breaking to the surface. I squeeze my eyes tight trying to hold them back as Max takes my hand.

“I can’t leave you here, Tess. There’s a chance they will shoot first. We’ll follow the trail we marked and make our way to the meeting point with Marcum. You’ll stay with him.”

“You’re leaving me behind?” I ask, and I’m sure the worse feeling in the world is having someone you love, admit that to you. My panic, hurt, and fear all roll together, and I fight to keep from drowning because that’s how it feels.

“Let’s go,” he says not giving me an answer. His hand wraps around my wrist, and we go to the back door.

He opens it carefully. My body is strung tight.  I had this thought that the minute we opened the door a hundred guns would be pointed at us. Thankfully, that didn’t happen. However, in the distance I can hear sirens. They’ll be right on our heels. Max takes off running, pulling me with him. My legs feel like jelly, and even the salty ocean air is doing nothing to help me breathe.  Why was staying at the beach such a good idea?  It’s so wide open? We should have already been in the hills.  You can hide in the hills or something right?  My heart is beating so hard; it’s robbing me of air.  I swallow down the bile that keeps trying to rise in my throat, as I can hear yelling and chaos behind us. I don’t turn around to look. I’d rather not know. We’re headed down the beach to a small shed.  There’s a side by side ATV that the club keeps. I know the plan because Max and I have gone over it so many times. We get it in it and take off, at the end of the peach there’s a pier.  Under the pier, there’s a walkway that cuts back into the main drag and will lead us into a marina full of sailboats. From there a quick turn and we can be back to the swamplands and area that will make it harder for us to be tracked.  It all sounded well thought out when Marcum and Max discussed it before. Now it sounds and feels like sheer lunacy.

Max opens the shed door, and I stand there stupidly because that’s what you do when you’re in shock.  I’m staring around looking lost. I feel lost. That’s when the bullets start. They sound distant? Or maybe it’s just that way because of the dull roar and feeling of unreality in my head. I’m not sure. The bullets pinging off the ground feel close though. The sand dusts and the gunfire grows.  Apparently whatever has happened makes them think it’s safe to fire around me?  Or, Max is right, and it’s no holds barred.

“Tess, damn it!  Take cover!”  His voice jars me; it’s either that or the bullet that whizzes by us when he comes out and grabs my arm.

I feel a sharp sting of pain, but I don’t have time to worry about it because Max is manhandling me into the ATV.  I barely have time to hang on before he’s on, and we’re sliding out of the shed, backwards on two wheels.  It fishtails in the sand; bullets hit metal and Max’s hand shoves my head down, hard. He keeps his hand there for a few minutes; he needed not worry, because I’m busy trying to suck air into my lungs, and I’m terrified to look up.

“Keep your head down, Tess.  We’ve lost the ones on the beach, but we may yet get caught when we cross back to through the marina,” he barks.   I don’t respond. I’m not sure I have a voice.

It’s hitting me. I’m not sure it had until this point. It is now. I’m on the run with a wanted felon. I’m no longer a hostage. I’m someone who has aided a known felon. As we somehow make it through the marina and continue into the swamp, still in the ATV for now, the only thing I can think is…

Now I’m a wanted felon, too.

29

Max

I’m a fucking asshole. I thought I had everything under control and handled. I was so damned wrong. I look over at Tess. She’s pale, and I don’t think she’s said two words to me since we parked the ATV and started hiking.  We’re almost to our meeting point with Marcum and the boys, and I know that’s where I will lose her. It’s for the best.  I know that. I have been living in a dream world.  Marcum will fix it so that the cops treat Tess as an innocent victim. Her life will go back to normal. She will still have a life, and she’ll be happy. Tess deserves happiness.

“We’re almost there, Kitten.” She doesn’t answer. Is she mad? I’m feeling guilty and I shouldn’t. She made choices, the same as I did. I warned her and warned her.

“Max?” She whispers about five minutes later. I stop as she stumbles against me.

“Yeah?” I ask, and my voice sounds hateful, but then I feel hateful. I resent that she’s giving me the silent treatment. I resent that I’m in this position to begin with. If she had just stayed away from me. If she had never walked through those doors at the prison…

“Max, I’m not feeling so good,” she says, and when I turn around, she sways into me. I grab her by the arms, and something feels off. Her right shoulder is hot. I look under my hand, and the stain of dark crimson red is soaking through the long sleeved shirt she’s wearing.

“Fuck! Tess, why didn’t you tell me you’d been shot?” I ask her but her head falls back and her eyes close.

Through all of this. Through planning out murder, taking someone’s life, waiting for the cops to show up, court and even that final echoing slam of the prison doors, I have never felt fear. Not once has this blood running cold, heart-stopping, cold, clammy sweat, type of fear swamped me. Now, it runs down me in buckets.  Now, it nearly overtakes me. My fucking knees are buckling.

I go to the ground with her in my arms. I have the strangest urge to gather her close to me and rock her. Instead, I guard her head and gently fix her on the ground. I quickly take her shirt off. It looks as if it’s a graze in and out, but there’s blood, and the fact that the dark red is marring Tess’s beautiful pale skin is obscene to me. Disgust gathers in my stomach. I may not have pulled the trigger, but I am responsible.  I tap down my guilt and work on cleaning the wound. I hear twigs breaking in the background.  My hand goes to the gun I have stuck on my back, in my belt. I don’t have time to take cover, and even if I did, I’m not leaving Tess. I do the only thing I can. I move standing in front of Tess and aim my pistol and wait.

“Woah, son.  It’s just us. When you didn’t show up, thought you might need enforcements,” Marcum says as I carefully take my hand off the trigger.

“Lost the fuckers, before we crossed into the marina. What the hell happened? I thought you had the law tied down?” I hurl the accusation at him while turning my attention back to Tessa.

“Shit, what happened to Tess?” Marcum asks as more men move in.

“I think she was grazed. I didn’t know until just now, but shit she’s unconscious.”  My hands are shaking as I go back to work on her. Marcum pushes me out of the way as he and Ride, go to work on Tess.  They were both medics in the military and know more about this shit than I do, so I defer to them. Ride was actually a medic on the battlefield.  I clench my hands in my fists as they take over.

“She’s okay boy, just a graze. Maybe she just fainted from fear.  See?” Marcum says, clapping his head on my shoulder.

“Max?” Tess says, and her voice does sound stronger.

I push Ride out of the way and gather her in my arms. I need to hold her and make sure she’s okay.  Now I give into my first impulse. Now I hold her close and rock her. I don’t even care that my old man and the rest of the men are standing around us. I give into the urge.

“I got you, Kitten. I got you.”  I tell her.

I pick a few sticks out of her hair and pet it gently, clasping her to me. It’s that moment, however, that I notice Tess’s white tank top is smudged with dirt and mud. My hands are holding her, petting her and I see it.

My hands are stained with Tess’s blood.

30

Tess

Max has been acting strangely since we made it back to the compound.  I’ve been sent back to our old room like a naughty child.  I’m okay with it because I honestly don’t feel good.  Ride stitched me up, and Cherry made sure to feed me, but a few spoonful’s of soup and some crackers is all I could manage.  Now I’m lying on the bed wondering what in the world is going to happen next. I’m almost asleep when Max finally comes through the door.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Kitten. How are you feeling?”

I give him a small smile.

“Yeah, that’s about what I figured,” he says sitting down on the bed beside me. His hand moves over the side of my face. His thumb is against my skin and his eyes look troubled.

“Are you okay?” I question him, wishing I had the magic words that would fix, not only this but go all the way back and fix everything for him. I don’t though, and I hate the helpless feeling that I have because of it.

“I’m sorry about today, Kitten. I’ve been stupid thinking I have it all under control.  I think having you, made me forget who I am, what I’ve done. I’ve been living in a dream world.”

His words are scaring me. They sound so…defeated. Worse it sounds like he’s regretting me, and that hurts. “Max…”

“Tess, I’m going to leave. Marcum and the boys are going to make sure you’re sorted out with the police. I want them to know that you were never a willing participant in anything. I’ll make sure you’re protected, and then you can go back to your life.”

Tears well up in my eyes. My heart cries out no. “Max, I can…”

He bends down and kisses me, stopping my words. Tears are falling, unchecked, from my eyes, and he tries drying them with the pad of his thumb, but they are coming too often.

“Shhh…Tess, it will be okay. We knew from the beginning this was a short ride, it’s just somewhere along the way you made me dream of more. It takes a special woman, Kitten, to make a man who is dead inside, dream.”

How can such a beautiful compliment tear your heart right out of your chest? I wrap my arms around his neck, to bring him closer to me, the tears running unchecked.  “Don’t do this, Max. Don’t do this.”

His hand wraps in my hair, but it’s different. There’s nothing sexual about the way he’s holding me. “I’m sorry, Kitten. I’m so damn sorry to have ever gotten you mixed up in this.”

His words hurt and anger me at the same time, but I’m scared. I love Max. It wasn’t supposed to end like this…it wasn’t supposed to end. That’s where the anger comes in. I’m mad at the situation, I’m mad at how quickly things change, and most of all I’m really mad that Max can just let me go so easily.

“You’re overreacting. We’ll go to Aruba early. We’ll get lost overseas, Max. We can do it all still, we just need to get out of town!” I tell him, and I sound panicked. I know it. I can’t let him leave me behind. I don’t want him to leave me.

He stops my words with a kiss. A sweet, intense kiss unlike any we’ve ever had before. It also tastes of goodbye. I claw at his shirt, trying to rip it from him. My tongue goes on the attack, and I do my best to own his mouth. I am the aggressor now. Max pulls me away, and there is sadness in his eyes.

“Stop, Tess.”

“Is it so easy? So easy to push me away? To get rid of me…”

“Damn it, Tess!”

“Nothing has changed, Max! Nothing! I’m still here. You are!  We just need to leave!”

“I am leaving!”

“Together!” I yell back at him, and he stands up, moving away from me.

“I got you shot, Tess!  If that bullet had hit just an inch over…”

“It didn’t!  You didn’t shoot at me! They did!”

“Because of me!  You shouldn’t have been in this situation!  I put you there. I turned you into a target.”

“So this it? It’s over? Why did you even ask me to go with you? Why…”

“Because I wanted you!  Damn it, Tess! I wanted you!”

It feels like a knife in the heart. His words bring the final death knell. Wanted. That’s the difference. I love, Max.  He wanted me.  I’ve been living in this intense dream world that Max has woven around me. I let myself become a part of it and build this fairytale. I did it subconsciously even while feeling like it was all going to go wrong. I let myself believe. I let myself fall in love with someone I never should have.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” I murmur to myself.

“Tess…”

I turn to the side; away from him. His voice hurts me; his face hurts me. Right now, everything about Max hurts.

“I’m going to take a nap; I’m not feeling so well.”

It’s not a lie—not even a little bit.

“Damn it, Tess…”

I don’t answer him. There’s no movement, no sound in the room. I close my eyes, trying my best to close everything out.

In a few minutes, I hear the door to the room close. Then and only then, do I give in to the tears that have yet to fall. I cried some in front of, Max. These are nothing like that. These are rivers of tears. A torrential downfall and each one is yanked, ripped and torn from my very soul.

I’m so fucking, stupid.

31

Max

“Who the fuck is the mole?” I yell punching my fist down on the table.  If I weren’t Marcum’s flesh and blood, he’d have my ass, and he’d be within his right to do it. I can’t help it. All I can remember is Tess’s face and the pain staring back at me in those green eyes of hers.

“Cool it, Dawg,” Dusty says, and I barely resist the urge to tell him to fuck off.

“Who is it, Marcum?”

He knows. I can tell by the look of him. He’s pissed, and he’s breathing fire. He’s madder than hell, which is good, but I need to know who the fucking asshole is so I can end him myself.

“You need to sit down, boy,” Marcum says. I ignore him too, and remain standing there—just waiting. He crosses his arms and matches me stare for stare. It’s a battle of wills, but I’m too fucking exhausted to wait him out. I cave and sit down.

“Jenna.”

My blood runs cold. That fucking bitch. “Where the fuck is she?”

“I have Ride and a couple of the boys out trying to locate her.  She’s hiding.”

“She better be hiding deep,” I growl.

“Boy, you need to learn to control your shit. You can’t end every fucker that messes with you. That’s what got you into this mess to begin with.”

“Fuck off, Marcum.”

The old man stands up in front of me. I know what’s coming, and I could fight it, but I’m not going to. I want the fucking pain. It’ll give me something to worry about besides letting go of Tess. I wasn’t expecting Dusty and Bramble to grab me from behind though and drag me out of the chair. There’s a look in Marcum’s eyes that I’ve only seen one other time. The day they closed me up at the pen, and I told him not to visit me or have anything to do with me again. I blamed him for Renee. I shouldn’t have. I’m a sad ass fucker. Hell, a part of me is blaming Marcum for Tess being shot.

“I allow you to do shit I’d kill other men for, Dawg. I love you, boy. You’re my blood, but you need to get your head out of your fucking ass,” he says, and the hush in the room is huge.

He’s claiming me as his, even after I told him never to do that shit. The secret is out, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. I’m too messed up in the head right now.  His fist comes in contact with my jaw and my head jerks back violently.  It’s a fucking loaded hit, and I stagger against my captives as a result. I’m unsteady as hell from the direct hit, but even I can tell he held back.  There’s a reason Marcum leads the roughest bunch of bastards in the South.

“Leave us alone,” Marcum says, sitting back down. Dusty and Bramble let me go, and it takes everything I have not to fall to the ground like an untried pup and embarrass myself. I manage to sit down and breathe through the pain.

The room clears quickly. When Marcum demands something, there aren’t a lot of men who wait around and question it—none that are alive anyway. He sits there with his fingers tapping against the table. His fingers are large and beefy; they are covered in ink, and he has huge rings on three fingers. One is of a skull, the other an insignia, and the third an eagle. The man is intimidating as hell, but his hands are fucking scary.  They would make a lesser man tremble and probably have; too times to count.

He relaxes in his chair and pulls out his smokes.  He doesn’t speak but motions with the pack. Right now, it sounds like an excellent fucking idea, and I take one. He pulls out his silver lighter. The cap flipping back and clicking into place is the only sound in the room. He holds the flame out for me. I lean in and toke as he lights. The nicotine blasts my senses, as I watch him light his own and close his lighter, putting it away.

“You’re being a stupid fool,” he eventually says.

“Probably.”

“Fucking hell, at least own it. Goddamn! Did that rotten blood on your mother’s side destroy you? Son, you need to start thinking with your head.”

“Lay the fuck off, Marcum. You’re the one who put your dick where it shouldn’t have been.”

“That doesn’t mean you follow my path. Jesus H. Christ.”

“I fucked up. I get it. But there was no way that motherfucking piece of shit was going to draw another breath after taking my child from me. I squeezed the life out of him and rejoiced while I fucking did it. You can’t tell me you would have done it differently.”

“I would have done everything different!” he growls, and he barely gets it out before I interrupt him.

“No, you wouldn’t have. You would have…”

“I would have sent that son of a bitch to hell piece by piece! What I wouldn’t have done was ended my own fucking life in the process! Always cover your ass, Maxwell. You do not leave your ass swinging in the trees.”

“I…”

“You went off half-cocked, like a stupid motherfucker and…”

“And did what a man does!”

“Really, asshole? My way, you’d be with the woman who is in the other room crying her heart out over you. The kind of woman who supports a man and makes him strong. Not tears his ass down.”

“Like you are an expert on women,” I come back at him, but it’s weak. I know it is, and he knows it is.

“Are you done blubbering out of your asshole and finally ready to listen to your old man?”

“I don’t…”

“I guess not.”

I take a breath and bite my tongue. Everything is fucked up. Marcum might be a lot of things, but he’s not wrong about this.

“It’s too late,” I say the words I believe down deep, half hoping he’ll tell me I’m wrong.

“Maybe,” he says, and that one word is fucking hard to hear.

32

Tess

Max has been MIA. I have no idea where he is. When we got back to the Marcum’s, I was immediately sent to my room like a naughty little child. I didn’t care. My arm hurt, I was sick to my stomach, and I had a headache. I was also acknowledging that my choices were coming back to haunt me. I am officially a felon now. The cops were shooting and intent on apprehending Max, and they no longer considered me collateral damage. I am part of the problem in their eyes.  I can’t be surprised about it. I’m not sure how I feel. I made my own decisions. I chose Max. He pretty much gave me an out after that first day. I didn’t take it. I ran straight into the shit storm that I’m in now, and I’m pretty sure I would do the same thing again.  I love Max. That’s a constant. The plain truth is, I’ve gone too far to turn back.

Cherry came by and made sure I ate. I took a quick bath. My arm hurts like hell, but the injury is superficial. I only needed three stitches.  Ride gave me some pain medication, but I didn’t take it.  I opted for Tylenol instead. Pretty soon, I’ll need to face reality on a lot of things…

“You’re looking better.” Max’s deep voice grabs my attention.  I’m looking out of the window wondering exactly, what is going to happen next and scared of finding out. I guess it’s out of my hands now. I try to mentally prepare myself for whatever Max is going to tell me. Before I can turn around, he’s standing beside me, pulling the curtains closed over the window.  “Standing in front of a window might not be the wisest thing just now, Kitten.”

He pulls me away from the window, and we sit down on the bed. Nerves are overtaking me, and I’m not sure what to say to, Max. “I thought the compound was locked down?” I ask instead and hope he doesn’t notice how strained and timid my voice sounds.

“It is, Kitten. It is. We’re safe here for now.” His hand cups the side of my face, and I lean into it and close my eyes. I take a deep breath and let his scent and presence envelope me.  It calms me. As long as Max is here, then I’m okay. As long as he’s with me, we’re okay.

“What comes next, Max?” I ask the one question that won’t leave me alone. The one question I’m terrified of knowing the answer to, but have to know either way.

Max sighs and joins our hands together.  I watch him, and he’s staring at our linked hands and looking deep in thought. I hold my breath and bite my tongue against the questions I want to ask him. I’m afraid to spook him. I’m petrified he’s going to leave me behind. That’s it. That’s what everything boils down to. Is Max going to leave me?

“We need to talk, Kitten.” There’s a sentence to ease the fear that’s gripping your heart. Not.

“Save it, Mad Max. You are not leaving me behind. It’s not happening. You asked me to go to Aruba with you and other places from there, and I’m doing that. It’s done; we made our choices, and there’s no going back. You might as well just…”

His lips crush mine, stopping my nervous tirade. The flavor of him in my mouth makes me moan. So I open, and my tongue wars with his. I feel his hand grip the side of my neck and his thumb slides up and down against the center of my throat in a steady movement that accentuates the drumming of my pulse. He bites on my bottom lip, and I gasp from the sting, and then murmur approval as his tongue slides along the worried skin, soothing it.  I raise my hand to pull him close, and my body goes still and tight from the pain.  Damn stitches.

Max pulls away when he feels me tense up.  “I’m sorry, Kitten,” he says, helping me bring the arm back down. It might be just three stitches, but I guess the placement of them, or whatever, makes them hurt with every movement. It’s either that or the fact I refused the meds that Ride warned I would need. “Tess, I have to give you the option. Marcum and the boys can make sure you go back to your life. The police will release a statement saying you were held against your will, and that I only released you once I had jumped the border.  You won’t need to worry about anything and your life can go back to…”

It’s me who stops him this time. I put my fingers against his lips.

“I don’t want to go back to life before you, Max.”

“Tess.”

“Do you want me to leave? Is that it? Would you rather I wasn’t a part of this?”  I ask, afraid of the answer, but needing to know, regardless.

That’s when Max surprises me.  He gathers me in his arms, careful with my bad arm. He sits me in his lap while somehow pushing us back on the bed so he can recline against the headboard. Then, he places a kiss against my temple and situates me so I’m lying against his heart, and the beat of it is drumming in my ear.

“I don’t want to let you go, Tess. Ever. What you are to me, has nothing to do with what we started out as.”

That one sentence from Max takes my breath.

33

Max

I hold her close. Marcum’s speech hit had me hard. He and I had spent more time rehashing what paths I had before me. He made it clear what he would choose. I, on the other hand, didn’t agree. Regardless, I have choices, but the problem is that each selection has some fucking huge consequences. How do I choose?  Do I take Tess with me?  Doing that, means, never coming back. I may not be super close to Marcum, but I would still miss the sorry fuck. Do I let her go back to her world without me and still say goodbye to everything? Can I accept that? Can I let Tess go? Just the thought of it curls me in knots.

“I don’t want to let you go, Tess,” I repeat.

“Then don’t.”

“It would be better for you,” I feel obligated to tell her.

“Last I checked, I was an adult, and I say it wouldn’t be.”

“We could try your route, Tess.  Turn myself in, and wait to be together.”

Her body stiffens under me, and I kiss her again on the top of her head. I would be willing to do this for Tess. If I knew she was waiting for me, I would try it. Marcum would swing his influence out there; like I wouldn’t let him before.  The waiting would be hard. The unknowing would almost kill me, but I would. For her, I would.

“No.”

The one word is quiet, but firm.

“It’s what you wanted, Tess.”

“It’s not the same now. They want your head, Max. They want to make an example out of you. It’s even more dangerous now.”

“You’ve been watching the news.”

“Some, yeah. The result would be too unknown now, Max. I’ll support you whatever you decide, as long as you make me a part of your endgame, but I think getting the hell out of dodge is the best answer.”

“You could live like that, Kitten?”

“With you by my side, yes.”

Her words do something crazy to me. My chest contracts and this nervous energy runs through my system. For so long I’ve been a dead man inside, and Tess has somehow been bringing him back to life. The fact that she wants me beside her…me… Fucking hell.

My fingers dive into her hair, and I bring her face up to mine.

“I care for you, Tess. This is not just about fucking you now. You need to be sure.”

Something flashes in her eyes, but it’s gone quickly. Maybe I imagined it. She doesn’t respond with words. Instead, she gives me her lips. A sweet kiss, a promise.

“We won’t be able to leave for two days. Marcum wants to let the dust settle and let his contacts start some smokescreens. It will make it easier for us to get away.”

“What if they find us again?” She asks, her voice filled with fear she doesn’t bother to hide.

“They won’t, Kitten.”

“You can’t be sure, Max. They found out about us somehow. Maybe we should leave here now, we can’t be too careful.”

“It’s being handled.”

“Max, you can’t be sure…”

“We know who the informant was,” I tell her. She goes still, and those green eyes search my face. Fuck, if I blushed, I’d be doing it now.

“That cum-guzzling, whore-bag, rubber-band, saggy-assed cunt…”

I laugh, I can’t help myself.  “Rubber-band, saggy-assed cunt?”

“Yeah you know, stretches all to hell like a rubber band and then snaps back and cut your dick off, but once it’s been stretched it never actually goes back to the same…”

“I get the picture. Can we not talk about that whore-bag? There are other things I’d like to do when you’re in my arms.”

“Like what?”

“I’ll show you,” I whisper, deepening our kiss.

“Max,” she whispers.

“Quiet, Kitten. I’m going to love you real gentle.”

“What if I don’t want gentle?”

“Too damn bad,” I tell her, and I mean it. Tomorrow I’ll give her what her body craves. Tonight I need to make sure she knows I care and that she matters to me.

34

Tess

“What are you doing?”  I question Max. I’m lying on the bed; too exhausted from the night before to move. Max has just come through the front door; he’s rolling a silver utility cart and he’s humming. Humming!  Before he even answers, Dusty, Marcum, and few other boys come in carrying a curved, lounge-on chair. I gasp and dive under the cover because Max made sure I was naked as the day I was born when we fell asleep. He says clothes slow him down, and he needs easy access. I find that waking up with his head buried between my legs is a good thing, so I don’t argue.

They all leave but Marcum; he stands by the door grins and winks.   “You ever get tired of this son of a bitch, Tess and want to try out a real man? You just let me know, honey. You just let me know.”

I laugh, which I’m sure is what I’m meant to do.

“Fuck off, Marcum,” Max grumbles, though there’s no anger in his voice.

“No respect. Boy has no respect for his elders,” Marcum says laughing and closing the door.

Max leans against the closed door, looking like the cocky sex god that he is. I love that look on him. I love that smile on him. It makes me proud. I give him that. Me. I know Max doesn’t love me. He’s as much as confessed that, but he did say that he cares for me. I bring him something, even if I’m not sure what it is. I do that. From being with Max and everything I’ve read, that’s never happened. That’s enough for me—more than really.

“Are you ready, Kitten?”

“For what?” I ask, but the look in his eyes, combined with his smile, makes my insides heat up, and it’s a struggle not to scream, yes! Jesus, I’d do anything this man wanted just to keep getting those looks.

“I’m branding you today.”

“Uh…Mad Max, I love you and all, but I am not a side of beef.”

“I don’t know; you’re juicy, and I do like to eat you…”

“You’re such a romantic Max. Be still my beating heart.”

“Keep it up and I’ll beat you,” he jokes, throwing my covers back and gathering me in his arms.

“Max! It’s cold! At least let me get dressed!”

“Nope, sorry. I need you naked.”

“For what? What are we doing here?”  I ask, but by then I’m lying on the chair and watching, as he starts taking things out of the cart and hooking up electric to his equipment.  “You’re tattooing me?” I ask with awe in my voice. I want his mark on me. I need it.

He kisses my stomach, and it makes me wanton, I instantly feel the tug of need and wetness gather between my legs.  Max is lethal to me.

“Max,” I murmur, my voice needy.

“Later, Kitten. First, you’re going to have my work on your body.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” he questions as I settle down in the chair, filled with anticipation.

“I want your mark on me, Max.”

“Do you care where I put it?”

“I belong to you, anywhere you want is fine, more than once, even.”

“Fuck, Kitten,” he growls and his mouth slams against mine, almost in anger, but it’s not. I can tell from the hungry way his tongue takes over my mouth and the way his hand grabs my neck and holds my lips to his.  My words mean something to him. I give myself over to his kiss. When we break apart, we’re both inhaling, raggedly.

“Max, you keep it up, and you’ll have to fuck me before we can get your name on me.”

“I’m not seeing that as a drawback, Tess.”

I smile; because for the first time since we were almost captured, I feel free.  If I could leave the world behind so that Max and I were the only ones who existed, I would. In a heartbeat. I slap his leg playfully.  “Ink now, then sex.”

He laughs but starts working.  He seems to know what he wants. So I lie back and let him work his magic.  The first part tickles but I do my best to hold still.

“I’m doing a simple design on your hip. I don’t want it to be too intricate because I want it done today. I want my name on you, Tess. I need that.”

His words vibrate through me, and I don’t respond, because if I did the only thing that would come out would be a happy sigh of a girl whose brain is mush over a man.

“When did you start tattooing?” I ask as I get lost in the feel of his hands on me. My eyes are closed, and I can’t ever remember being this happy.

“I thought you’ve read all about me?” He asks, not bothering to look up.

“I want to hear things from you, Max.”

“My uncle had an old army buddy, Spandex Pete.”

“Spandex Pete?”

“Crazy as hell, I think Raymond was saner. He wore these bright colored, spandex pants all of the time. Strangest fucking colors I’ve ever seen, we’re talking purple, hot pink, yellow, lime green…he’d hurt your eyes to look at him sometimes.”

“Wow.”

“Mm…hmm… But as crazy as he was, he could do magic with a tattoo gun.  He gave me my first tattoo.”

“Which one?”

“The eagle. He said my spirit animal was the eagle. I had no idea what the hell that shit meant, still don’t. But the eagle was fucking cool. So I agreed with him.”

Max has an eagle covering his back shoulder. The eagle is flying, soaring really and the intricate work on the wings alone is something that I always find my fingers tracing over when we’re in bed together.

“I can see that.”

“What?” he asks, still intent on my hip, and I wish I could see what he’s doing.

“The eagle. It’s brave, bold, kind of a loner but fiercely protective, loyal…”

“Tess,” he warns.

“Plus it has a really big….”

He looks up at me with a cross between disbelief and amusement on his face. “Do not tell me you know the size of an eagle’s dick, Kitten.”

“I was going to say wing span, Mad Max,” I joke.

He laughs, shakes his head and goes back to work.  I close my eyes and let him. Mission accomplished. I made Max laugh.

35

Max

“Well?” I ask her.

Tess is looking in the mirror that hanging on the back of the bathroom door of our room.  She’s staring at the tattoo I put on her hip. I’m nervous. Fuck, I don’t do nerves. This is the first time a tattoo has really mattered to me. I want Tess to like it, and the fact that I’m sweating it out makes me feel like my balls are in a fucking clamp. Hell, next thing she’ll be leading me around by my dick and patting me on the head saying, good boy.

“Max…”

“You’ll wear it and like it. Too fucking late now,” I tell her, turning away to pack my tools up. It doesn’t matter if she likes it or not. It’s me; I’m on her now and by god it’s just the first time too. I’ll have my name all over that fucking body before I’m done.

“Will you shut up? You’re ruining my moment.”

“Your moment?”

“Yes, I have a kickass tattoo on my hip. It’s a tattoo made by my man, and I like seeing his name on my body. So, I’m looking in the mirror, enjoying the way it looks and the way it makes me feel, and you’re ruining it with your grizzly bear, alpha male, growly shit,” she huffs.

I slide my arms around her and pull her into me. I kiss her forehead and tuck her head under my neck.  “How does it make you feel?”  I ask, closing my eyes and just enjoying the feel of her in my arms.

“Sexy.”

“Kitten, you are always sexy.”

“It’s an eagle’s wing,” she whispers, and I can be completely stupid about most things, but I hear the happiness in her words.

“Yeah,” I tell her my voice suddenly tight.

“Why your name woven in an eagle’s wing, Max?” she asks.

I think about not telling her. I don’t have the greatest of luck with women. I wouldn’t give you a damn penny for the women that have walked in and out of my life. Marcum is right though. Tess is different. There’s not a woman I’ve ever met who would go through the fires of hell like she has, for a fucker like me. I’ve given her nothing unless you count orgasms. Still, here she is; proud to wear my name on that fucking delicious skin of hers. Here she is; still willing to go away with me, even with all the shit that has happened in the last few days.  Fuck. Who am I kidding? I kidnapped her. I held her hostage and forced her to go with me since day one, and she’s still here. I may not understand what is between Tess and myself, but I do know it’s something worth embracing. It’s worth sticking your neck out for. So I give it to her.

“An eagle can’t fly without its wing, Tess.”

She pulls away, and those green eyes shine with moisture. I catch a lone tear that slides from her face with my thumb.

“I make you fly, Max?”

That softly spoken question sounds so innocent, so hopeful. Does she even recognize that if I give her what she’s searching for, it is like giving her the power to destroy me?

“You make me soar, Tess. You make me soar.”

More tears fall, but she’s smiling and through her choked laughter she still finds a way to give me hell. “You sounded almost like it hurt to admit that, Max.”

“Stop mocking me, before I paddle that ass,” I warn her while turning away to finish cleaning my stuff.

My back is turned, so I don’t see what she’s doing. Therefore, when her voice drags out long and in a pouty tone, I am not prepared for what my eyes see when I turn around.

“Max…..”

She’s lying on the bed, still completely naked. She’s on her stomach and has her ass curved out waiting for me. My dick instantly begs for her attention. What was it I said about her leading me by my cock? It’s probably too late, but what a fucking way to go.

“If I come over there, Tess, I’m fucking that ass, not just paddling it.”

“You’ve been preparing me, Max. If you say I’m ready. I’m ready. I told you; everything is yours.”

I don’t know if there are better words in the dictionary than that. She’s mine.

“Are you sure you up to this, Kitten?” I ask giving her time to back out, trying to remember what we’ve been through. I need her, but I’m not putting my demands before her needs. Tess is the first woman to really mean anything to me.

Her full lips curve in a smile that holds secrets as old as time.

“The question, Max, is if you’re up to it,” she replies with just a touch of sass in her voice. Her eyes lock on my crotch, so her meaning is clear. My dick is straining against my jeans, and my woman is looking at me full of hunger. There’s not a man I know who can turn down that combination.

I step away from my equipment and undo my pants, watching her the entire time. My dick springs out, hard and stiff and leaning towards her because the fucker knows; that way lays paradise. The room is silent, so hearing Tess’s breath roughen makes me smile.  I love that I get to her as much as she does me. Fuck, if I had met her years ago, my life would have been so different.

I finish undressing, doing it slowly, so she can watch it all. I stroke my cock, firmly a few times, loving the way she bites on her bottom lip as she watches.

“You need something, Kitten?” I ask, letting my fingers play with the pre-cum I’ve pumped from my cock.

I catch the pearl, glistening stream on the pad of my index finger and pull the strand from my cock, using my thumb to gather up more. My move my hand to my pecs, finding my nipple and rubbing the liquid on it. I close my eyes, imagining that it’s her tongue on me. The vision is so perfect; I can’t wait.  I walk to her, and she’s sitting up watching everything I do. I grab her by the back of the neck pulling her to me.

“Suck,” I hiss.

Her greedy little tongue darts over my nipple, lapping at it before sucking hard with a moan, tasting me and wanting more. She is…goddamn…she’s perfect.

“More,” she whispers when she breaks away.

Using my hold on her neck, I push her down to my cock. Tess doesn’t even blink; her tongue laps against the head of my cock like a hungry kitten discovering warm milk.  She cleans my head while seeking more and I’ve never seen anything so fucking sexy. She opens her mouth and sucks just my head inside, letting her tongue continue to tease. Just as I’m getting used to that feeling, she slides her luscious mouth down my cock completely. I groan at the feel of her throat relaxing against my cock, and she slips me further into the wet warmth. My hands tangle in her hair by reflex, pressing my advantage and pushing; slightly hungry for more of her brand of pleasure.

I step in again, forcing her to shift the angle she has when sucking me. She can’t take me in as deep this way, but it doesn’t matter. I get what I want. My hand cracks down on that little round ass, connecting with a loud sound of flesh meeting flesh. She stiffens underneath my hand, but she doesn’t stop sucking. I spank her again and again. I know instinctively now, how to land my slaps to get the most excitement out of her. I watch her ass shudder as it turns a glowing red, an outline of my hand can be seen and then slowly fade.  I use my hand to rub against her ass, soothing and petting it, while at the same time imagining it covered in my cum.  My balls tighten with need, and I know it’s time for me to change this around before my fun ends too soon.

I have to force myself to lift her from me. It’s not easy, her greedy mouth is heaven, but it’s not what I want. She releases me with a whimper.

“I wasn’t finished,” she pouts. Fucking perfect.

“I told you what would happen if I came over here, and it doesn’t end with you sucking my dick, Kitten.”

Her tongue moves along her bottom lip, whether from need or nerves, I’m not sure. I go to the nightstand drawer where I stashed things earlier. I’m glad now that I had stored them in the backpack we took with us when we went on the run. I want everything I do with Tess to be new and different. She deserves that. I take out the tube of warming gel and the little vibrator egg. I handle them in such a way that Tess can’t see them, even if she is straining over her back, trying to look at what I’m doing.

“Don’t be nervous. You’re going to like this, I promise.”

“I trust you,” she says, ending on an intake of breath as my fingers slide down the division of her ass and further into her pussy.

“You’re wet as hell, Kitten,” I all but moan, unable to stop my fingers from pushing into her. She immediately thrusts back against, me searching for more.

I reach over to the small egg, palming it in my hand and letting my body heat warm it. Another time I’ll insert it ice-cold into her, but right now, this is all about bringing her to her limits, quickly. All the while I’m finger fucking her hard with two of my fingers. She’s panting and doing her best to ride them. I could make her come like this. I’m not ready for her to come though. I have plans.

I take my fingers out of her greedy little pussy. She rumbles, unhappy.  I spank her again, twice in quick succession, and she whimpers, her ass thrusting up and seeking out more. That’s when I insert the egg, seating it inside of her and smiling at how her muscles ripple around my fingers. She’s so fucking primed and ready. I withdraw my fingers, leaving the egg inside, and cup her warm pussy with my hand. I use my other hand to turn on the remote; setting the egg to vibrate on slow speed.

Her quiet moan of need is the first signal that the small vibrator is working its magic. Then the liquid heat and the way she clenches against the palm of my hand tells me even more.

“Max…” she groans, her body thrusting back and forth, riding and thrusting, searching for more.

My hand wraps in her hair, and I pull her head back with a harsh grip.  “Who do you belong to, Tess? Who owns this body?” I bark at her; my voice is strained and husky with need.

Her legs tremor, she hums the word yes and I know she had her first minor orgasm. While that is what I want, I can’t allow her to ignore me. I turn the vibrator off.

“Max!” she cries, her voice desperate. My other hand still has a tight hold on her hair, and I let go; opting to wrap my hand around the back of her neck, pulling her head back. I love feeling her neck under my touch. Her soft, to my rough; and the feel of her pulse against my hand makes me feel powerful; like I could conquer the world. My head bends down to her sweet little ear, and I growl into it.

“Who the fuck do you belong to, Tess?”

“You, Max. Always you,” she cries and hearing the words, I turn the vibrator back on, this time a notch higher. Her breathing gets even more ragged and her body thrusts, trying to ride the vibrations. I let go so she can go back to all fours. I place a gentle kiss on the small of her back. While she seeks her next climax, I go back to the lube.

“Are you getting ready to come, Kitten? Are you enjoying your toy?”

“Yessss…..” she sobs.

“Enjoy it. Because I’m back here getting my cock ready and I’m going to fuck your ass hard, in a minute, and you’ll be so fucking full you won’t know what to do—except come. Oh, Kitten, you’re going to come so fucking hard.”

“Max!”

While I’ve been talking to her, I’ve wrapped my dick in the lube, putting it on thick. I want to make sure this is easy as I can make it for her. I don’t want her to fear it. I want her to need this between us, because once I claim this ass, I know I’m going to want it more and more. Once my dick is ready, I take two fingers and dip them in the lube. I use one hand to pull her ass; exposing that small little rosy opening.

“Jesus you’re going to squeeze the hell out of my cock, sweetheart.”  I barely have my two fingers into the first joint when she goes off and her second full climax claims her. Her head goes down, unintentionally sticking her ass up higher. As her orgasm ripples through her, I thrust the fingers all the way in. “Tess…” I hiss as the fingers pop through the tight ring of muscles. Jesus. I move my fingers in her ass, scissoring them back and forth, stretching her with the help of the lube and preparing her.

“Max!” she cries out again, and I remember I have the vibrator on the medium speed. I hit the remote slowing it back down, and she murmurs in protest, but she’s still riding the hell out of it and my fingers.

I pull my fingers out and position my cock at her entrance.

“Tess?”

“M…max, please.”

“It might hurt, baby. If you don’t like it, you have to tell me. We will only do things you get pleasure from. If you don’t like it, you tell me. Understand?”

“Fuck me, Max! God, please.”

I push my cock into the entrance of her ass. The head slides in pretty easily, a combination of the lube, and the way I’ve been preparing her for the last week. She goes still as my cock strains against the muscles. I close my eyes at the pleasures that are assaulting me from every corner.

“Max…” she whimpers. She’s tight, so fucking tight I think it might snap my cock.  I switch the vibrator up to medium. I could feel it before but once it kicks up, the vibrations sweep against the head of my cock in waves. “Please…” she moans, her ass pushing against me.

I reach down and turn the vibrator to high, then sink my hands into the cheeks of her ass, digging my fingers in, and making it easier to watch my cock slide inside.  Her third orgasm hits, and it’s powerful, raking through her body with the power of a storm. I push completely into her tight ass, and take a moment to enjoy the feel. Then…I fuck her. There’s nothing romantic about it. It’s pure fucking, domination, basic and like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I ride her ass hard, thrusting in and out because I am about to explode. Her orgasm is long and powerful, and she’s milking my cock.  I slap her ass, and she wails out, sounding like an animal. I slap it again, and her upper body falls down from the force of her release.

My own climax takes me by surprise, my cum shooting out in jets so forceful that her body jerks and clinches with each stream. It seems to last forever though I know it’s just mere minutes. When I’m done, I manage to have enough thought to turn off the vibrator. She collapses against the bed with a raw moan. Her voice obviously strained.  I lay on top of her, still buried in her ass. I hate to leave. I do though, mourning the loss of the feel of her.

“I think you’ve killed me…” she murmurs.

“That was just round one, Kitten.”

“Jesus, Max. I can’t.”

“Shhh… you can. I’ll show you after I clean you up.”

“Mmm…” she hums, sounding doubtful.

I laugh because I know I’ll prove her wrong.

And I do….

36

Tess

Today’s the last day here. Tomorrow I’m traveling with Max. Soon, we’ll be on a beach somewhere, soaking up the sun, and it will be great.  I’ve repeated this to myself over and over since early this morning. Max has gone with Marcum; he said he had a surprise for me. He wouldn’t tell me what it was, but said he’d be back this afternoon.  He’s been so relaxed since yesterday. I can’t stop the self-satisfied smile that spreads on my lips. Yesterday was amazing. My hand goes to my hip, and I move my finger over the area where the tattoo rests beneath my skirt. Yesterday was…

“You look like a woman in love,” Cherry says, interrupting my thoughts.

“That obvious?” I ask with a smile, turning to my side, to talk to her. We’re in the kitchen. It’s pretty quiet at the club. Marcum has put a lockdown in place since Max and I have been back. He’s limiting the people in and out of the compound. I haven’t ventured anywhere, other than my room and the kitchen. I’m being paranoid I know, but I don’t want to do anything that might jeopardize us leaving, and Max finally being safe.

“Girl, you’re practically glowing.”

Her words make the panic inside of me increase. I’m hiding a secret. I’d like to think I’m still unsure, but something inside of me tells me I’m not. It’s there, and I’m terrified.

“Yeah, right,” I joke. “What you mean is I glow in the dark because I haven’t been outside in days.”

“Whatever you say.  I was about to go out to the store with a couple of the other old ladies, and the watchdog Marcum assigned us. Thought I’d check and see if you needed anything.”

I think about it. Should I ask Cherry for help? I wring my hands together, worrying.

“Honey?”  Cherry asks putting an arm around my back. I let her lead me to the table and sit down.

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“No. Not at all. I love Max.”

“Honey, no one would doubt that; I’ve seen you around him. I’m just saying you’ll be giving up a hell of a lot for that boy, and no one would blame you if you want to back out.”

“No. I want to be with Max.  He’s where I belong.”

“Tess, I wouldn’t judge you…”

“I’m pregnant!” I blurt out in a panic. If I don’t get the words out, I may strangle on them. I’ve suspected it for days, but I keep ignoring it. I can’t avoid it anymore.

Cherry goes silent. It’s understandable. I don’t even know how I feel about it. I go back to wringing my hands together and worrying.

“Are you positive?”

“No. I mean obviously I haven’t taken a test or anything. I haven’t had a period since Max and I have been together though and I’m never late. Never.”

“Well sometimes stress can work havoc on a women’s cycle, and we both know you’ve been under that.  Maybe you’re worrying for nothing?” Cherry says, trying to sound hopeful.

“Maybe,” I whisper, but I know better.

“Do you not want a baby?” Cherry asks me, and her question loosens the tight rein I’ve had on my emotions. I burst into tears.  “Oh, honey,” she coos, going to her hands and knees in front of me and extending up so she can wrap me in her arms. I take her comfort. I’m scared. Terrified. “Talk to me, Tess.”

Eventually, I get enough control and dry my eyes with the paper towel that Cherry stuffs into my hands. Talk to her? Do I dare utter the fears that I keep drowning in? The ones I’ve held in for days; afraid to voice?

“I want my baby more than anything in the world. I want Max’s baby,” I whisper touching my stomach gently. I don’t even know for sure I’m pregnant, but I swear I can feel the baby’s presence.

“Then why so many tears?” Cherry asks, but she knows. How could she not?”

“What kind of life is it for a baby knowing that her parents are hunted fugitives? What if we’re found? What if I’m arrested, and I’m pregnant?  Worse, what happens if Max finds out? With his history, how will he react to having a child, with me? I can’t believe I let this happen, Cherry. I’m so scared.”

“Okay, you’re searching out all of the worst case scenarios. You know them logically, but you still decided to skip the country with Max. What’s the difference?” she asks, and I have to think about it.

“Making decisions when it is just Max and I involved, is one thing. An innocent child shouldn’t have to suffer from decisions that its parents make.”

“Oh please, what kind of world do you live in? That happens every damn day,” she argues.

“Maybe so, but it’s not what I want for my child. I want something better than I had, you know?”

“Tess, you’ve told me about your life. This baby will have two people that love it unconditionally. It’s already doing better than the hand you were dealt.”

“It won’t matter how much it’s loved if we have to leave him or her alone,” I whisper my greatest fear.  “I feel so stupid, Cherry.”

“Well stop it! You don’t even know if you’re pregnant. You could be worrying over nothing. Let’s not put the horse before the cart. We’ll find out what’s definite and go from there.”

“I’m pretty sure.”

“Have you had a test?”

“No, but I’m never late, and we did have sex once without protection. The timing is right,” I whisper, “I’m so stupid.”

“Will you stop?  You are not. I’d venture to say Maxwell was right there with you. He is just as responsible as you are. There’s still a chance you’re not, though, if I’m going to be entirely honest, sugar, it’s not very likely.”

“I know.”

“He’s like his dad. I swear those Kincaid soldiers could knock up a nun wearing a chastity belt thirty paces away.”

It’s a weak laugh, but I laugh.

“I’ll pick up a test while I’m in town. You can do it and then we’ll know for sure. Sound good?”

“What if someone sees you buying it?”

“Then, they’ll just think that Marcum has done it again. I promise you, your secret is safe with me.”

“Thanks, Cherry.”

“I got your back, sugar. The main thing is not to get excited. That’s not good for you right now either way.  You can take the test and then we’ll figure out our next step.”

“Okay, sounds like a plan,” I tell her weakly.

“Damn straight it is. I’ll head out now and be back with your test in an hour or so.”

I can’t stop the sigh. “I’ll stay here and work up the nerve for to take the damn test.”

“What test?” Max asks from the door, and my heart stops. Cherry squeezes my hand, before getting off the floor.

“I’ll be back, sugar.”

“Okay,” I whisper, but my eyes never leave Max’s. My heart is in my throat.

Cherry skirts around Max, and it just leaves the two of us.

“Tess? What test is Cherry talking about?”

37

Max

“Tess?” I prod her when she still doesn’t answer. I want to hear her say it. I know though, god do I know. The knowledge is sitting in the bottom of my stomach like lead. Tess is pregnant.

“Max, I…you’re back early.”

It’s a stupid sentence because I didn’t even tell her where I was going. In fact, I haven’t left the compound. It’s a sentence born out of desperation, and we both know it. She’s stalling for time. Her face is white, and the truth is standing between us like a loaded gun.

“You’re pregnant?”

Tears gather in her eyes, but don’t quite break free, and she nods her head yes. She’s worrying her hands together, and I should try to soothe her, but I can’t. My whole body feels like I’m not able to take enough oxygen through my lungs to sustain it.

“I’m sorry, Max.”

“How long have you known?” I gave her a tattoo while she was carrying my child. Jesus, why does that matter? She was fucking shot at while carrying my child.

“I don’t know for sure; there’s a chance. Cherry is going to pick up one of those home pregnancy tests.”

“Fuck!”

Tess jumps like I’m about ready to hit and her. I feel guilt. It’s my fault this is going on, not her. But still…motherfucker.

“Max…”

“Son of a bitch! What the fuck are we supposed to do now?”

“Nothing has to change, Max. I might not be pregnant and even if I am, we can still carry through with our plans. Nothing has to change!

“Everything will change, Tess! Son of a bitch! Everything will change!” I growl picking up something from the table. I think it’s a glass, but I’m not sure. I throw it across the room, my anger has me acting and reacting without a thought in my head, except I fucked up. I fucked up horribly bad. The glass connects against the wall and shatters with a loud crash.

“What the fuck?” Marcum yells, coming through the door a minute later.

Tess stands up, shaking with tears pouring from her face. That’s when I’m sucker punched yet again. There’s so much hurt in her eyes. It’s my fault too. I know it. I’m not upset with her. I’m upset with myself, but she doesn’t know that. She’s taking all of this on her shoulders when I’m responsible.

“Tess,” I start, but she runs from the room, and I just hang my head in disgust.

“What the fuck did you do now, boy?”

“Just let it go, Marcum. I got it handled.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

I ignore him and take off after Tess. She’s my priority.  I find her in our room lying on the bed, with her back to me, crying quietly. I kick off my shoes and get on the bed and spoon her. I can’t stop my hand from holding her stomach. Our child might be resting there. After the mess with Renee, that’s something I never wanted again. The pain of losing a child, even one I never got to hold, is something I can’t explain. It gutted me. Is it fucked-up that I may be having another child, this time with a woman I care about, and I most likely won’t have the option of being around for the mother or the child? Is that the definition of irony? It’s probably no less than I deserve. I get that. Still, the thought of it is ripping me apart inside. That’s my cross to bear.

“I’m a fucking asshole, Kitten. I’m sorry.”

“No, you have a right to be upset,” she whispers brokenly, her voice thick with tears.

“I’m not upset with you, Tess. It’s me. It’s just bad timing.”

“I know.

“If you’re pregnant, Tess. You can’t go with me. It wouldn’t be safe.”

“Max!”

I shush her quietly, my lips against her hair, and I breathe in the strawberry scent of her. Can I live without her? How do you leave someone behind when they’ve become your only reason for living? How do you say goodbye? I’m not sure I’m strong enough.

“Tess, you were shot…”

“It was a graze,” she argues, but her voice gives away her doubt.

“It just as easily could have not been. What if you are carrying our baby, and that happens? The risk is too great.”

“So we’re just supposed to never see each other again, Max? How is that a solution? How is that fair?”

“Tess, I killed…”

“A monster, you killed a monster.”

I smile, despite the heaviness inside of me. “Marcum says I’ve been living my life and going off half-cocked, for way too long, and he’s right.  Actions have consequences; I didn’t think about them. Then again, how in the world could I have ever prepared myself for you, Tess? I’ve never known anyone like you.”

She turns on her back and looks at me, her hand goes over the top of mine on her stomach. “Why does it already sound like you’re saying goodbye to me, Max?”

“Let’s see what the test says. No sense in borrowing trouble until we know.”

“I’m scared, Max.”

“I know, Kitten. I am too.”

“I don’t know what to do. I shouldn’t want to be pregnant, but the thought of our baby, growing inside of me…I want your baby, Max.”

I want your baby, Max. The words lay like led against my heart.

“Close your eyes and rest. We can’t make any decisions until we know for certain,” I tell her, my voice gruff.

My head is a mess. Marcum laid out my choices during our last talk. I didn’t want to face them. Now, I may have no choice. None at all.

38

Tess

Pregnant.

How can one word fill you with despair, joy and fear all at once?  I’m pregnant with Max’s baby. I’m on the run from the law and knocked up! Jesus. The room is silent. Max and I are both just staring at the damn, plus sign, on the stick.

“Fucking hell,” Max whispers and I kind of wish he had kept silent.

The staggering weight of what we just found out hits me and my stomach rolls. I try to hold it down, but the simple truth is, Max is right. There’s a child now. I have more than myself to consider. I’m going to lose him. The small voice in the back of my head repeats, and it’s just too much.

“I’m going to be sick,” I gasp, putting my hand over my mouth and running to the restroom. I barely make to the toilet in time. Max is right behind me. I feel him lift my hair out of the way, and as I’m finished retching, he hands me a towel.  Perfect.  Just how every woman wants to be remembered by the man they love—kneeling over the toilet, puking their guts out.

“You okay, kitten?” Max asks, his voice soft, and I lean back into him, letting his body warm me. I feel so cold.

“Give me a minute.”  His fingers continue sifting through my hair, and I want to memorize this moment. Memorize it and never let it go, because I know my time with Max will be ending. “I’m going to rinse my mouth,” I tell him, standing and getting away from him. I’m upset, and I want to blame him. It’s not fair and if anything, more my fault, but there it is regardless.

“Tess…”

“I just need a minute alone, Max. Okay?” I tell him, not turning around. I turn the water on in the sink and brush my teeth. I make a point of not concentrating on him, or anything. I’m a robot on autopilot until I hear the door close.  Then I put the brush down, rinse my mouth and slowly sink to the floor as my grief overwhelms me.  In my mind, it was always a possibility that I would end up alone. A huge probability, if I’m honest.  Yet, faced with the harsh reality of it, I can’t catch my breath. It’s a hurt that goes bone deep. I’m not crying. I don’t think I can cry. No, I’m hurting. I feel as if my heart is being shred into pieces while I sit here on the cold floor.

“Sweetheart,” Max says, and I hadn’t even realized he’d come back in the room. He gathers me in his arms and carries me out of the room. He puts us on the bed, holding me tight and snuggling into me. I remain stiff, but I don’t fight him. I don’t have it in me to extend that much energy.  “Tess…”

“Don’t say it, Max. Please? Not right now. I just can’t handle it.”

“Tess, we need to…”

“I don’t want to!” I yell trying to pull away from him.

“Tess, damn it….”

“I don’t want to give you up, Max! I don’t! You think I’m strong enough to watch you walk away and never see you again? I’m not!  Do you think I’m strong enough to raise a child who will never know how amazing its dad is? I’m not!”

“Tess, honey…”

“Oh God, Max. I’m not. I don’t want to do any of this without you. I don’t want to be without you. Please, oh god, please. Please just give me a little time without having to think about it. Max, please.” The pleading cues my tears and I… crumble. A deluge of pain and fear swamps me and steals my breath. Max holds me and lets me cry, but that’s almost as painful. Who will hold me when he’s gone? Who will help me to survive?

I cry until I can’t cry anymore. Until, I’m so far broken that the tears stop. My eyes are raw, my sides hurt, from the gut-wrenching, unanswered pleas, and my head hurts. Only when I reach that point does Max somehow gather me closer and tries to absorb my pain. That’s impossible.

“You’re going to make yourself sick, Kitten.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I tell him, and that’s how it feels. Nothing matters now.

“It does. You have our baby to think of. This may not be the way we saw things going, Tess, I get that. It is how things are though, and I need you to be strong. I need you to take care of our child.”

“He or she won’t ever get to know you, Max.”

“Bullshit. They will, Tess. I’m not missing out on being a part of his or her life.”

“What are you going to do, Max? Send us letters from Bora Bora?”

“Aruba.”

“Whatever.”

“No, I’m going to find a way to be part of this child’s life. A way to be a part of your life, Tess. I’ll talk with Marcum, and we’ll call in some favors.  We’ll figure this out.”

His words bring me hope. And I almost allow them to soothe me, until I realize, it’s just a pipe dream. Max was in the pen for murder. That, in itself, is hard to get out of, but if you add on taking part in a jailbreak and prison riot, escaping, and taking a hostage, he may never see the light of day. I maybe could testify and get that last part taken off, but doing so may end up with me in prison and what will happen to my baby then? No, Max was right to begin with. There’s more than just me to consider now.

“Give me a chance, Tess. Don’t give up on me yet.”

“Does Marcum have that much power?”

“If anyone does, Tess, it would be him.”

“When will we know?”

“He’s working on it now. He seemed to think he’d have an answer sometime tomorrow.”

“What do we do in the meantime?”

“We savor every moment, Kitten.”

“I’m still scared, Max.”

“I know.”

“It will all work out, Tess.”

He says again and I know he’s trying to assure me, but I think that ship has sailed.

“You have more confidence in life, than I have Maxwell,” I tell him my hand, tightening in his.

“We have our happy ever after to find. My woman believes in fairy tales. I want to be the fucker who gets to give them to her.”

“I like that,” I tell him.

“That I want to give you a happy ever after?”

“That you called me your woman.”

“You are, Tess. Regardless of what happens next, you are my woman.”

“I have your mark on me,” I whisper trying to find something to hold on to.

“And you have one on me,” he answers. I turn to look at him, not sure of what he is talking about. “Your surprise was kind of ruined,” he says, and I nod my head in agreement. I kind of forgot completely about it. It feels like a lifetime ago.

He takes his shirt off, reaches for my hand and places it just under his heart. Just under the spot that is glossy from the cream on it and shiny from the new tattoo.  It’s a key, the kind that reminds you of old antique locks and the key had my name inside of it.  Mine.  A key over his heart, with my name. Tessa.

“A key above your heart, Max?” I question, and his smile is almost sheepish. Where is the cold man who kidnapped me?

“What about it?”

“Not a thing,” I whisper leaning up to try and kiss him. He more than meets me half way. For this moment, I concentrate on his kiss and stop worrying about what happens next.

39

Max

Marcum might not have been around when I needed him growing up, but he sure as hell has been working like a madman, to help me now. He’s called in marker after marker and put feelers out, near and far, to try and save my sorry ass. I didn’t have a lot of hope, but I underestimated the old man. Completely.  I hug him and slap him hard on the shoulder.

“I owe you.”

“Fuck that. I want time with my grandkid.”

“When do we set all this in motion?”

“Tomorrow is soon enough; spend the day and night with your woman. Even with the governor’s assurance, this shit will be tricky and drawn out. It will be at least a month before you see the outside again, boy.”

“Yeah I know. I can deal,” I tell him and I can. I’m not looking forward to it. Before, it didn’t matter so much. I didn’t have a thing waiting for me on the outside. I didn’t even care if I kept breathing. Still, knowing Tess is waiting for me, I have everything.

“Then go; get your woman and give her something to keep her warm for the next month,” he orders and I flip him off. I don’t waste any time getting to my woman though. He may be an asshole, but he sure as hell isn’t wrong.

Fuck, I’m so damned eager; I’m practically running to our room. Tess is lying on the bed, reading.  Gorgeous; with dark hair soft against her skin. Those long lashes of hers, highlighting her deep emerald eyes and that body. Hell, the woman’s body tears me up just looking at it. If I live to be a hundred, I don’t think I will ever get enough of her.

“Hey, you,” she smiles sleepily. She’s still sad. I’ve explained to her what Marcum is trying to work out. We both agree it’s the wisest move we have, but that doesn’t make it any easier. “Any word?” she asks.

“Yeah. Marcum heard back from the Governor an hour ago. The deal is in place.”

“He’ll pardon you?”

“He told Marcum no less than three to four weeks after I turn myself in.”

“What? No!  Max that’s a month! You can’t be locked up in that hellhole for a month!”

“Kitten, are you forgetting how long I was in there before I met you.”

“No, I’m not! That’s exactly the reason you shouldn’t be going back in there, Max. I still don’t see why we can’t take off for Aruba like we planned. I know we were worried about what could happen, but I think we’re just letting fear stop us.

“He can’t just do it the day I’m arrested, Tess.”

“Why not?”  I give her a look, and she frowns at me, but it stops her lecture. “I don’t like it, Max.”

“Duly noted.”

“When does all this, go down?”

“Tomorrow,” I deliver the word like the sucker punch I know it’s going to be. Tess’s hand tremors and she puts it on her stomach where our child is resting. You can’t tell she’s pregnant and besides her being tired, there are no outward signs, but I swear, sometimes I can see it all over her. It’s going to kill me to be away from her.

“That’s too soon…” she whispers.

“The sooner it happens, the sooner I can come back to you and the baby.”

“You promise this guy can be trusted?”

“Marcum says he can,” I tell her.

“Okay,” she whispers standing up. She walks to me and stops when she gets right in front of me. She gives a smile, which is meant to be naughty, but the sadness in her eyes drowns it out.

“What are you doing?”  I ask when she drops down onto her knees and reaches up to undo my belt.

“Making sure you know what’s waiting for you when you get out.”

“Tess…” My hands are caressing her face. This woman is cementing herself inside of me. She’s becoming a part of me, and it’s a part I can’t do without. Her small hand circles around my cock and I watch as she pumps it slowly. I want this, but still… “Kitten, you’ve been feeling bad…”

“I need this, Max. If I’m going to have to give you up for even one day, then I need all the memories I can gather.”

What man could say no to that?  Not me. Then again, I’m thinking I could never say no to Tess. Ever.

40

Tess

It’s that sick feeling you have in the pit of your stomach; that refuses to let you go. That fear that threatens to swamp you, buckle your knees and choke you with each step you take into the unknown. The slamming of your heart against your ribcage, so powerful, it is physically painful and the roaring of your own blood echoes in your ears. That’s what today is to me. Each step I take into the police station is agony.

We started this charade yesterday. This is day two. I’m being questioned as a follow-up to the report I filed yesterday.

“Ms. Oliver,” the portly officer at the front desk says. They know me, of course, it doesn’t even matter that I was here yesterday. Everyone knows me because my face has been plastered on the television. I’m wearing black, dress pants, a red, dress shirt with matching heels and big clunky sunglasses. My hair is pulled back in a reserved, austere look, and I appear to be every inch the cold legal professional—at least on the outside. On the inside, I’m a freaking mess.

It’s no coincidence that I am dressed almost exactly, the way I was, the day I met Max. That’s my signal to him. I don’t even know if I’ll get to see him today, but I’m hoping. He turned himself in yesterday. Marcum has a cop on his payroll, several really, but this one is a detective, and Marcum and Max decided this would be the cop who would take Max into custody. Detective Slater was a nice, older guy, and he treated Max with the utmost respect. I hope that continues, even after Max is arrested again, but I somehow doubt it. Today, I’m being interviewed, by Officer Slater’s partner; Detective Jake De Luca. He is everything that Officer Slater is not. He’s probably Max’s age or younger, he’s got jet black hair that’s trimmed close at the bottom and neat, a little thicker on the top, but styled in such a way that it stays close to the head and not a strand is out of place. His body is muscled and well defined, in a way that if a girl wasn’t so in love with Max, she might look and enjoy looking, more. He’s got an Italian-New-Yorker-transplant accent, and his voice is deep. I don’t know how he ended up in Florida, or what his story is. The only thing I do know is that Detective De Luca doesn’t like me—or at the very least, he doesn’t believe me.

“I have a three o’clock appointment,” I tell guy at the front desk, but before I can finish, the Detective is standing in front of me.

“Ms. Oliver,” he says looking me over, and the way he looks at me makes me feel as if I have a piece of spinach on my teeth.

“Detective De Luca,” I acknowledge, trying my best to sound my most condescending.

“If you will follow me,” he says, clearly unimpressed.

“Your bodyguard can wait out here,” Detective De Luca says when we reach the outside of the small interrogation room.

“And you can go fuck yourself, Boy-o. I’m sticking close to my daughter in law,” Marcum says, and I can’t help but smile. He hasn’t let me out of his sight since Max left.

“I wasn’t aware that Ms. Oliver and Mr. Kincaid had gotten married.”

“We haven’t yet. Max felt he needed to pay his debt to society first, detective.”

“Clearly,” he says sarcastically.

His whole attitude is setting me off. I’m doing my best to hold my tongue. Alienating these people will not help Max. I need to get my man home. Marcum and I sit down at a table and wait while Detective De Luca closes the door.  He sits down with a yellow legal pad and a pen.

“Before we get started can I get either of you a drink? Soda? Coffee?”

He has his own cup of coffee sitting on the table. The smell of it, combined with my nerves is getting to me, so I immediately motion my head no. Marcum doesn’t bother to answer him. He’s leaning back in his seat appearing bored as hell. I envy him because I am a step away from screaming like a banshee. There’s silence for a couple of minutes while the detective sifts through some papers. It’s probably designed to make sure my nerves kill me. That’s what it feels like.

“I have a doctor’s appointment in an hour,” I tell him, to hurry this along when it becomes apparent I may die of old age before the man gets on with it all. Marcum reaches behind me and rubs my back soothingly. It almost makes me smile. Max would hate it, but he is so much like his dad. I wonder if I have a son if he will be like the two of them. There are definitely worse things.

“Oh, that’s right. I had forgotten. You and your abductor are having a child together.”

It takes everything I have, not to flinch as his coldly delivered statement.

“Max did not abduct me. We’ve been over this detective.”

“Pardon me, your boyfriend. I know we have been over this, Ms. Oliver. I’m just finding it hard to connect the dots. There are some major holes in your story.”

“I do not see how,” I tell the asshole. Marcum is continuing to pet my back. I don’t know if he thinks I need calming down or not. I do. I’m about to rip this asshole a new one and then maybe—maybe I’ll feel better.

“Well, for starters, Ms. Oliver, why did you not go back into the main entrance of the jail, where you would most assuredly be safe? Why follow the inmate further into the jail?”

“His name is Maxwell,” this time Marcum replies, and I almost smile.

The detective doesn’t reply; his eyes are on me the entire time. I take a breath and go over the story and that Max and Marcum have drilled in my head. Honestly, it’s not far off from the truth. Marcum said the best lies always have elements of the truth, so this careful, well-thought out version of the day Max and I met, follows along that line of thinking.

“I told you, detective. The guard panicked. When the alarms sounded, he ran into the chaos.  Without him and because the prison alarms were going off, I assumed I wouldn’t get the guard to buzz me back in through the locked doors. It was all happening so fast. Max thought if I acted as his prisoner we would have a better chance of making sure I got out of it all safely.”

“That’s the part I don’t get, Ms. Oliver. The cameras show Max manhandling you, and clearly there was fear on your face, a panic even. I saw nothing loving or tender at all, in the way Mr. Kincaid treated you that day, if, in fact, you and he were having this relationship, as you stated.”

“I think we’re about done here,” Marcum says, and the irritation in his voice is clear.

“No, it’s okay, Marcum. The detective here is just doing his job,” I interrupt, and this time I don’t back down from the asshole. I’ll give him my story one more time, so that it’s on record again, without any changes. When they realize that I’m not going to deviate from it, then perhaps they will let go of it and the wheels will slowly start turning. I need Max home. I need him home, now.  “I told you, detective; I was terrified. I was in the middle of a prison break. The prison’s guard left me unprotected. Completely unprotected. If Max hadn’t stepped in when he did, I shudder to think, exactly what would have happened to me. As it were, the Hernandez brothers tried to get to me. If Max hadn’t saved me from the state’s negligence of having one, lone guard, and that guard being ill trained. I would have died—or worse. The looks you read on my face were exactly that. Max saved me that day.”

“Are you so naïve that you expect us to believe you trusted a man, a convicted felon, a murderer; to protect you, Ms. Oliver?”

“Yeah, I think we’re done here,” Marcum says, and his voice would be enough to make me back down. I’m not sure Detective De Luca is smart enough to know how close he is to danger.  Then again, I’m kind of done here too. It’s clear what this detective thinks of Max. So, I decide to let him have some hard truths. Fuck this shit. I stand up, take a breath and decide to show him just a slice of the real Tess. The Tess that only Max has ever nourished and breathed. The Tess that belongs to him and no one else.

“I trust Maxwell Kincaid with everything inside of me. Have you ever been in love, detective?”

Something flashes in the man’s eyes, but he makes no move to respond.

“Let me tell you exactly what kind of man Maxwell Kincaid is. He’s the man who protected me when the Hernandez brother’s tried to attack me. He’s the man who kept me safe through the swamps and kept me safe in an underground bunker while numerous convicted felons, murderers, as you so colorfully put it, were running around looking for blood. He’s the man who risked his life, to get me to his father. He’s the man who stitched my arm and saved my life after the officers that you work with, shot at me, not Max. Me.  Most of all he’s a man who could have run. Who had the means and the finances to skip the country, and instead turned himself in.  He’s an honest man. He’s a good man. He’s my man. So yes, detective, I not only fucking trust him, I would fucking die for him. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go to the doctor and make sure my child is healthy so that when the state of Florida gets off their ass and lets my man free, we can finally live happily.”

Marcum and I are to the door, and my hand is on the knob when the detective speaks up, and I stall for just a moment.

“That’s a pretty speech, Ms. Oliver, if I could discount the fact that Mr. Kincaid murdered someone in cold blood…”

I turn on him then. I want him to look me in the eye.

“Max is a war hero. A hero, detective. All he has ever done is protect people in his care. He went off the rails when his child was taken from him. True. I’m not denying it. He killed someone who murdered his unborn child. A child he couldn’t protect. He killed a monster that was a waste of air, and he has spent years with that knowledge, and he’s done his time. Why don’t you get off your high horse and put yourself in my fiancé’s shoes for a change, detective? I wonder, exactly, what you would do if someone you loved were ripped away from you, by a monster. What laws would the sanctimonious Detective De Luca enforce then, I wonder? Because I’m pregnant, and I know that if anyone tried to take my baby from me, I’d kill them, and fucking rejoice while doing it!” I take a deep breath, ending my ill-planned, rule-breaking speech with Max’s own words. I understand them now. I believe in them, because this man in front of me, and his colleagues, are trying to destroy my family.

The detective doesn’t say anything else. He looks almost repentant for a second.  Then he moves around me and opens the door.

“I could almost agree with you, Ms. Oliver. I’m doing my job, and I could almost agree with you. Except for one small thing. We’ve had another witness come forward. Her story differs from yours, quite drastically.”

His words make my heart flip over, and fear threatens to overtake me. What is he talking about? It’s then he opens the door, and I come face to face with the woman on the other side.  Jenna.

“That’s her! That’s the woman that came to the club a month ago. They’ve been living there. They paid the club a ton of money for safe passage out of the country!  She was bragging how Max used the Hernandez brothers to orchestrate the prison break and then murdered them in cold blood! She even laughed about it, talking about how easy it was and how her and Max would be living the high life in Aruba in no time. That’s her, detective! That’s her!”  Jenna spews at me with a self-satisfied smirk on her face. Maybe Max and I will get to stay in cells next to each other because I’m going to fucking kill her.

41

Tess

Marcum and I stand back as Jenna, the cum-guzzling, wonder slut, sashays in, wearing more skin than clothes. She’s looking smug, and I do my best not to let my fear show. She could put a kink in our entire plan. She could very well fuck it all up, and get Max taken from me. I need to play this cool. I need to find out exactly, what the cops are up to and then when I figure out a way to fix all of this; I need to fucking end this bitch. I can suddenly see why Max is the way he is. When someone threatens your family, you do what you have to do to protect them. I get it. I don’t care what society says about it.

“If we could all have a seat, I was hoping we might clear up the discrepancies between the stories. Ms. Oliver?”  Detective De Luca motions me back to my seat. I sit, even knowing what this is. Cops don’t just put people together like this. They don’t trust Jenna’s story, but they have given it enough merit to start a gigantic fishing expedition, which is dangerous enough on its own, without Jenna’s added fuel. Marcum sits beside me, but he’s dangerous now. There’s a whole different vibe coming off of him. Before he was upset with the cop. Now he’s deadly, and it’s all directed at one person, Jenna. She might be too stupid to know exactly, what kind of trouble she’s buying, but I’m not. Marcum might be in his fifties, but he has not mellowed one bit from the man who started the Vipers. He’s deadly.

“I’m surprised that you are listening to a club whore that’s got an axe to grind because she was tossed out on her ass,” I tell him, my mouth getting the better of me.

“Club whore? I didn’t spread my legs for a man I just met, who was locked up behind bars!”

“No, you’re right. My bad. Max turned you down. You just spread them for everyone else,” I snap back, knowing a moment of regret. I really need to get my tongue under control. I have to help Max.

“You bitch! I’ll…”

“Ladies, please,” Officer De Luca interrupts. “If we could concentrate on the matter at hand, please. Speaking of which, you seem to know an awful lot, about what is going on at the club, for a woman who wasn’t living there, Ms. Oliver.”

Shit. Shit. Shit!

“Tess is now my daughter. She lives with the club; and her and my old lady, Cherry, have become close. She knows everything that went on with Jenna. Including, that I booted her lying ass out. If this is all you’ve got detective, I think we’re done here,” Marcum says, coming to my rescue.

“Ms. Michaels is merely a person who came forward. We have to do our due diligence to solve all cases. I wasn’t aware that she had been banished from the club, however, I’ll make note,” The detective answers, not looking up as he goes back through his file.

I’m waiting for Jenna to respond. She doesn’t. I figure I know the answer when out of the corner of my eye I see Marcum raise his hand in a gun like fashion and aim it at Jenna. He acts as if he pulls the trigger and lifts his hand. Jenna goes white. Perhaps she’s not quite that clueless now. A pity she couldn’t have smartened up beforehand.

“My problem is the bodies of the Hernandez brothers,” the detective begins again.

“I wasn’t aware they died?” I ask playing stupid. Marcum starts rubbing my back again, and I let his warmth ward off the chill surrounding my heart.

“Well, we were working under the opinion that they too had just escaped, especially after your statement. However, Ms. Michaels does paint a colorful tale about what might have really happened after the prison break when you and Mr. Kincaid were walking through the marshes. She seems to be under the impression that Mr. Kincaid shot the Hernandez brothers in cold blood. Interesting, don’t you think?”

“I think Ms. Michaels has a very colorful imagination,” I tell him standing up. Detective De Luca is definitely fishing, and I’m not about to take the bait. This interview wasn’t about me giving my statement again. This interview is a straight-up witch hunt. I need to leave before I mess something up unintentionally. “I imagine when one spends the majority of their life on their back with their legs spread they have to dream up fairytales, Detective De Luca.”

“You cunt! I’ll destroy you!  You think you can waltz into my old club and take everything from me that I had spent years working for? Max is mine!”

I shake my head. The only good thing is that her rant just now added credence to my story. I can tell that by the look that the detective shoots her.

“I’m late for a doctor’s appointment now. If you’ll excuse me, detective, I think I’ve donated enough of my time to this.”

Marcum helps me up, and we go back to the door, not bothering to wait for the man’s response. The door is open, and I’m outside, finally breathing air that doesn’t contain Jenna when the guy finally responds.

“We’re probably done, Ms. Oliver. My men are combing through the marshlands outside the prison today. I’ve instructed them to pay close attention to lands close to your fiancé’s land.”

“It’s sad when state agencies waste taxpayer’s money, but by all means search away. Goodbye, Detective De Luca.”

I hold it together as we leave the station. I even manage to keep my cool outside of the station. It’s when we make it to Marcum’s car that I let my fear bleed through.

“Are you sure they won’t find any sign of the Hernandez brothers, Marcum?”

“Positive. Got it all handled. How about we go to that doctor’s appointment now and check on my granddaughter.”

“It could be a boy,” I tell him trying to shake off my fears.

“It could, but it won’t be. It’ll be a girl with her mama’s grit.”

I think on his answer and smile. It’s a huge compliment. Marcum likes me. I suddenly get a vision of a little girl with her daddy’s dark locks and eyes, and I like it. I like it so much, I kind of hope Marcum is right.

42

Max

It’s a fucking free for all.  I’m being sentenced for my escape. Nothing is going to plan, and that’s because of one woman. Jenna. The bitch is laying low again, but only after tipping off the local news stations about the connection between the Vipers and our governor and how a deal was being brokered to get a pardon for me because I was the President’s kid.  The governor had been steadfastly denying it, but the fucker had also kept a journal, like a fucking moron. I figure my shot at getting out of here in a month; to be with my family, is gone.

I’ve seen Tess twice since I’ve been locked up and each time kills me. She visits through glass on a damn phone. I can’t touch her. I can’t hold her and every time I see those damn tears in her eyes I want to scream. Marcum is scrambling, trying to find another angle to help us, but with the governor already in hot water, that’s a long shot at best.

“After considering the facts in the case and the jury recommendations. This court is left with a conundrum, Mr. Kincaid.” The judge begins. Tess is sitting behind me. It’s the closest we’ve been, in what seems like forever. I can catch her strawberry scent in the air, and it makes me ache. God, I miss her. “The court puts a lot of credence in the testimony of Tess Oliver, but the unveilings by the story and subsequent investigation that is still ongoing in the governor’s office cannot be ignored,” he continues, and it feels like my heart stalls. This was what Marcum and I were both afraid of. “At the same time, upon review of not only your military record, but that of your prison record, I can’t find anywhere in there that reads you are a danger to society. But in consideration, the seriousness of your previous crime cannot be overlooked.”  What the fuck does that mean?  I question to myself, trying to stomp out the hope inside of me.

“Fucking hell,” Marcum mumbles behind me, and I hear shifting of bodies too. When the judge starts again with more gibberish, I look down and close my eyes…and wait for him to tell me what I really need to hear.

“I sentence you, Maxwell Kincaid, to an additional year for fleeing custody and evading arrest. To be served in addition to your previous sentence.”

I hear the cries in the courtroom, mostly Tess’s, and I hear Marcum’s cussing, but it’s all from a distance. A year in addition to my previous sentence. It might not sound like a lot of time to someone else but to me, it sounds like a fucking lifetime. A year or longer away from my child, away from Tess. Hell, my baby will be walking before I get to lay eyes on it, and there’s no guarantee it will be that soon. They had turned me down for parole repeatedly before. With this new sentence, I’m not even sure how soon I can get a parole hearing, let alone if Marcum and I can fix it, so I get parole. I can’t even marry Tess unless I do it inside a jail, and that’s not happening. Regrets are burning a hole in my gut. God, if I could just go back…

“Please rise,” the bailiff calls out, and I stand as if on autopilot. Tess is reaching out to me; I feel her touch on my shoulder. I’m handcuffed; I can’t take her in my arms. Her beautiful green eyes are filled with tears, and she keeps repeating how much she loves me. The deputies come to get me. My useless lawyer is spouting nonsense about appeals, and all I can do is stare at the woman I love.

“I love you, Tess,” I tell her. I do. I should have told her before now. I should have told her anywhere, but a crowded courtroom where they are dragging me away from her, and her tears and cries are between us. I should have told her sooner. It’s just another failure. “I love you, Tess,” I say one more time before I turn away.

43

Tess

A little over four months later

Letting Max go was the single hardest thing I’ve ever done. It felt like I was cutting out my heart. It felt like I was dying. When I watched them drag him away, a part of me did die that day. Being without him is like losing a part of me. I go through the motions.

Marcum and the club have been my lone source of sanity. Marcum moved me into the beach cottage that Max and I shared together before. He offered me Max’s house, but that wasn’t where I wanted to be. This place had memories, good memories, of my time with Max.  Cherry had the boys working like crazy to fix everything I needed.  We turned one of the spare rooms into a nursery, which I decorated in pinks and browns with baby animals as my theme.  My favorites were the baby giraffes and hippos even though Marcum said the hippos were going to scare the hell out of his granddaughter.

Over the past few months, I’ve managed to turn this place into a home. It feels good, except Max isn’t here. It’s been hard going through this alone. From the morning sickness to the swollen feet and bloated feeling, all the way to the increased sex drive and being tired all the time—all of that I’ve dealt with okay. Even I would admit though, it would have been so nice to have Max with me to complain to, to hold my hand.  Marcum and Cherry have gone with me to every doctor’s appointment. Their support has been invaluable, but again, I wanted Max by my side. He’s missing so much. He hasn’t even got to feel the baby kick.

I knew it wouldn't go as easily as Marcum and Max believed. I knew it. Life just doesn't work that smoothly. It never has. It has been almost four months since Max was sentenced. I get to see him for thirty minutes every two weeks. That's it. It's a special kind of hell being so close to him but never getting to touch him.

Max is miserable; I see it in his eyes. Sometimes I think I make him worse. With each visit, he gets more sullen and more withdrawn. Today is special though. I get to see Max without the plexiglass division between us. It took some major work from Marcum and him finessing government officials, but I get an hour to touch and hold Max. He can finally feel his daughter move. As the guard leads to a small closed off room, I am filled with excitement and nerves. I need this to work. I need this to get through to Max; to give him hope.

The door opens, and Max is sitting at a table, looking angry. He always looks so angry these days.

“I'll be right outside, Ms. Oliver. I told Marcum I'd do my best to give you an hour but if the men can't keep the supervisor busy I'll have to come in and get you early. They only gave us the go ahead for fifteen minutes,” the guard says.

“I understand. Thank you, Andy,” I tell him, wishing he would leave already.

“What's going on Tess?” Max asks, his voice darker than I remember.

“Marcum fixed it so we could spend our time today just the two of us.”

“Why?”

“Gee, Mad Max. I've missed you too.”

“You shouldn't be here. I told you last time, to quit coming. There's nothing here for you, Tess.

“The man I love is here. The father of my child is here, Max.”

“We were wrong, Tess. There’s no guarantee of when I’ll get out of here. Hell, our child could be in high school. Do you seriously think you can continue living like this? You need to grow up.”

“It’s just a year, Max and then…”

“And then, nothing. Don’t you get it, Kitten? I murdered someone with my bare hands. Then, I escaped. That’s all they see. That’s it. I’m just a number, another worthless piece of scum in the system. The year will come and go and then it will be just like before. A parade of parole hearings where nothing changes.”

“That’s not true, Max! I told you before. I could have got you on parole that day. I know it!  You just need to play the system, sweetheart.”

“You need to quit dreaming, Tess. This isn’t a fucking fairytale. There is no happy ever after coming for me.  You need to find a man and get that white picket fence you’ve been dreaming of. It’s not with me. It will never be with me.”

Tears are pulled up from my soul. Each word he utters in that cold, dead voice he’s using with me now, cuts me open and makes me bleed.

“Stop it, Max. Just stop it,” I plead, not wanting to hear this. I’m going nowhere, and he’s wasting our time. He loves me; I know he does.

“Stop what? Making you face reality? I told you that day before this all went down. Don’t you remember, Tess? I told you not to forget who I was. I told you.  I’m a murderer. I’m property of the state of Florida now. I have nothing for you. Nothing.”

“You’re my heart! You’re my home, Max! Jesus, we’re having a baby!” I yell, walking to stand in front of him, needing to erase the distance between us—both physical and the kind he’s trying to put there.

“No, we’re not, Tess. I haven’t been there for anything but laying the dick to you. Don’t you get it? Hell, I can give you more of that here today if you want it. Just strip.”

“Max…” I’m physically hurting from his continued words. I didn’t envision today going like this. I had built up so much in my mind. None of it was like this. This is slowly destroying me.

“That’s all I am, Tess. A willing dick.”

I grab his hand and place it on my stomach. On cue, our baby kicks against his hand. Something flashes in Max’s eyes before the mask slams back into place and his hand curls into a fist and yanks away from me. I don’t give up. I can’t.

“That’s our baby, Max. Ours. You’re a father. You may not be with us right now, but you will be, sweetheart. You will be, and then we can finally live our lives….”

“I’m a sperm donor, Tess. That’s it. I’m going to be nothing in that child’s life. I told you.”

“No! You’re the man I love, the man I gave my body to!”

“A willing dick, who enjoyed the fuck out of getting inside you. That’s it. “Go ahead, Kitten. Strip for me and I’ll give it to you here. Hell, it’s been a long dry spell for me. You might be enough to tide me over so I won’t have to use my own hand for a few weeks.”

I slap him. This is not my Max. I don’t know who this man is, but he’s hateful, he’s crude, and he’s vile. He’s slowly killing me with his words. The echo of my hit vibrates in the air, for minutes after I do it. I just stare at him with tears in my eyes, and Max returns my stare, his dark eyes harsh and cold. His hand holding the place on his jaw where I slapped him.

“I think we’re done here,” he says.

Those words…kill.

I reach inside the small purse I brought with me. There’s nothing inside but two items, because of the security. Both things are pictures. I take them out and place them on the table beside us. A picture of the newly finished nursery, that moments ago I had been so proud of. And the picture the doctor printed off of my last sonogram.

“I don’t know what you wanted to accomplish today, Max. If it was hurting me, then your mission was accomplished. I brought these for you. I stupidly thought you’d want to see your daughter. You can just throw them away,” I tell him quietly, my voice thick with tears. A few have escaped, but I’m doing my best to keep them in, at least until I get out of here.

“My daughter?” he asks, but I’ve already turned away. I can’t stay here, not now. I pause at the door, trying to breathe through the pain.

“Goodbye, Max.”

He’ll never know how hard those words were for me to say. Then again, apparently he doesn’t care.

44

Max

The guard pushes me down in the seat. I don’t bother giving him the time of the day. It doesn’t matter. Nothing does these days. Nothing except this visit. These visits from Marcum keep me sane. I don’t know how he did it, and I don’t ask, but these days we get to talk sitting across from each other at a table. No more glass between us. That, at least, makes me feel less caged.

“You’re looking rough, boy.” Marcum says, and I give him a one finger salute.

“How are Tess and the baby?” I ask getting straight to the point.

“Why are you asking? You’re the fucker who pushed her away.”

“She needed to stop dreaming of a life with me. She needed to live her life,” I explain again, even if the thoughts of her with another man destroys me.

“Then I’ll guess you’ll be happy to know Officer De Luca has taken a liking to her,” Marcum says leaning back in his seat like he doesn’t have a care in the world.  The words are like acid.

“That fucking detective?” I bark, not liking the idea of his pretty boy face anywhere near Tess.

“Hey, what do you care right? He’ll take care of our girl, keep your kid safe. He’ll be honest as the day is long, and Tess can have the home in the suburbs you say she wants. All’s well that ends well, right, boy?”

“He’s not right for Tess,” I tell him, not even bothering to act uninterested. Marcum would see through that shit anyway.

“He doesn’t seem to agree. Been over at her house four times in the last two weeks.”

“What the fuck for?”

“Says he’s making sure her and the baby are okay and don’t need anything.”

“The fuck he is. He’s after, Tess.”

“Probably, she’s a damn fine woman. And thanks to you being a stupid, she’s free.”

“You and the boys need to have a talk with the asshole. He needs to stay away from Tess.”

“Why, boy? Isn’t that what you wanted?  A nice, stable, honest man for our girl?”

“Fuck, I don’t know what I wanted. I just didn’t want her pining away for something that wasn’t going to happen, Marcum.”

The old man exhales and then slides up, so he’s leaning his upper body on the table.

“It may not be overnight, but it’s going to happen, boy. You need to get your head out of your ass and give my girl some hope.”

“Your girl?”

“She’s the smartest thing you’ve ever done in your life, Maxwell. The club has claimed her; we’re keeping her and little Maddy.”

“Maddy?”

“She named the baby, Madison. Little Maddy is damn cute. Looks so much like her mom it’s unreal.”

“She had the baby? She wasn’t due till next week,” I say, feeling like I’m coming apart at the seams. My baby…she’s here…and I haven’t got to touch her or see her. Fuck. My hands shake as I reach for the photo that Marcum pushes across the table to me.

Tess. My precious Tess is holding a child. She looks so tired and worn out, but she’s smiling down at this small bundle in her hands like she’s holding the world…and she is; this small, wrinkled, beautiful baby girl, staring back at me. She’s got a head full of dark black hair, and it’s sticking up in places, Tess’s hand is lovingly placed on the top trying to calm it down. These midnight-dark eyes stare back at me, and her small little lips have a half smile on them. She’s gorgeous. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life. That’s not what makes me feel like someone is squeezing my heart and killing me though. No, that’s baby Maddy’s smile. It’s so much like Tess’s it takes my breath away.

My finger touches against the glossy photo as if somehow it can absorb through and touch the real thing.  Emotions are pushing through me at the speed of light. So many different ones swirling in all directions and all I can think is; this is my family. My woman and this child…this child that is a part of me.  A part of me and the woman I love, this child is …everything.

“She’s special, boy. Do you see her? Really see her? She’s the reason you need to get your head out of your ass.”

I can’t drag my eyes from the photo.  I don’t even try.

“I can’t magically just get out of here, Marcum. God, don’t you know if I could I’d be right by Tess’s side? Fuck!” I can’t hold it in anymore. Emotions are so thick, so raw and real that I can’t hold them inside any longer. The picture shakes in my hand.  My baby. My daughter!  Does she wonder why her dad isn’t there? Does she even know that she’s supposed to have a father there? Protecting her? Holding her? Talking to her? Rocking her to sleep? My daughter! Tears gather in my eyes. I can’t help it. I want to be with her. I want to be with her and Tess. The fact that I’m not, that I can’t be, is destroying me.

“I didn’t say you can. But, you can damned well get your act together and start helping me, to get you the fuck out of here.”

“I’m locked up behind bars, Marcum. What the hell do you think I can do from in here? That fucking Jenna has it so everything that happens to me is monitored. Your bigwig connections are worthless. They’re all fucking afraid to touch my case, so they don’t get accused of being in bed with crooks on the five o’clock news!”

“I’m handling that. I didn’t say it would happen overnight, but, son, it will happen. In the meantime, you need to quit pushing Tess away, before you lose every shot of having your family together when you walk out of here. You have the world right there. You don’t just fucking hand that away to another man. Especially some uptight cop. If that fucker raises my granddaughter I’ll personally cut your dick off, boy. Do you hear me?”

“What do you want me to do?” I ask him, drying my eyes with the side of my hand and trying to get a hold of myself.

He pushes a notepad that’s been on the table and a pen at me.

“Write to Tess. Give her a reason to hold on.”

I look at the paper like it’s a gun pointed at me. What the hell do I tell her? What in the hell can I say? Will it make a difference to her now, after the way we parted months ago? I pick up the pen, ignoring the way my hand shakes.

Hell.

45

Tess

Madison’s First Birthday Party

I watch as my daughter screams in pleasure each time Dusty throws her up in the air. She’s such a happy child. I’m thankful for that. She’s kept me going this last year. It’s been hard. I’ve lost count of the nights my pillow has held me and taken my tears while I’d read the latest letter from Max. That’s the only contact I’ve had with him for a year. Just letters. He’d send one with Marcum, and I’d send one back once a month with pictures of Maddy. I wanted to go and see him, but he asked me not to. He told me how much it hurt to see me and not be able to hold me. It hurt, but so much about Max hurts me. He apologized for the day in prison when he pushed me away. I understood, but I’d be lying if I said it still wasn’t painful. I don’t know how I’m going to react to seeing Max again. I’m excited, nervous, and petrified. I’m scared as hell.

I need to figure it out soon because Marcum called twenty minutes ago to let us know he has Max, and they’re headed here. That means any minute now Max will be showing up at the party. I will lay eyes on the man that I loved…still love…after all this time. I don’t know what to do with that. I’m not sure I even believe it.  We have so much to discuss. We have so much to decide. And Max…he’s missed so much. Things he’ll never get back. How will he handle that?  The party is suddenly suffocating me. Panic is overwhelming me.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Cherry asks her hand on my shoulder. I hadn’t even realized she was in front of me.

“I…I’m scared, Cherry,” I admit. Cherry understands, she’s been the only person I’ve been able to let in. She listens and lets me cry. I can be weak with her.

“Do you want us all to leave?” She asks, but the thought of facing Max on my own is worse. How did we get here? How did I get afraid to see the father of my child?

“No…I just need a minute to regroup. I’m going to take Maddy down to the water for a few minutes.”

“Okay, honey, I’ll make sure the boys are occupied and have plenty of food. The others have the babies.”

“Thanks.”

I go to get Madison from Dusty, which isn’t easy. The big guy is almost as attached to her as Marcum is. Luckily Maddy is so easy going. She climbs into my arms without a second thought.

“Mom-mom,” she says her little hands grasping out towards me. I take her in my arms, her sweet smell surrounding me, and her warmth reaching through my nerves and instantly I feel better. Maddy has that much power.

“Let’s go and find shells, sweet baby,” I tell her, knowing it is her favorite pastime. She squeals in delight just as I knew she would.

I lead her down the beach to the edge of the ocean and look out over the water, trying to get a rein on my thoughts and prepare myself for Max.

“Mom-mom!”  Maddy yells, demanding attention. She’s squirming and pushing against my chest, doing her best to get down. She’s not been walking long, her feet are still unsteady, but I always let her go when we’re on the beach as long as I keep me between her and the water. It’s her favorite thing, she laughs when she falls, and the sound of my daughter’s laugh is, to me, the most beautiful sound in the world. I let her slide to the ground and lead her back to the beach away from the water. We sit down, and luckily it has been cloudy, so the sand isn’t too hot. I sit down, pulling Maddy between my legs and reach around helping her to shovel through the sand with our hands. Maddy laughs as the sand covers her feet, and I smile, despite my worries.

“Hi.”

It’s one word. One word, from a voice that I remember, but haven’t heard in so long, so long that I was beginning to forget the tone and the way the timber of it sends shivers of awareness through my system. I hold my gaze down on Maddy’s head and then slowly shift it to Max’s feet. Just as slowly, I let it travel the length of his body until I rest on his face. There should be something I could say here. Something—anything. Nothing comes though. My voice is frozen in my throat. My heart is pounding.

My daughter must pick up on the change in me because she stops laughing and cooing. The sand stops occupying her, and she looks up at Max. I’m being a wimp; I need to snap out of it. Maddy however, has nothing holding her back. She pushes up trying to get away from me. I help her stand, bracing my hands on her little hips. I’m letting her distract me from Max. I need her to, because, for the life of me, I can’t even manage to say hi back. I swallow; suddenly my mouth feels very dry.

“Da-Da!” Maddy says, jumping up and down, wanting to get away.  “Da-Da!”

Of course she would recognize him. She’s only a year old, but I’ve done my best to show her picture to him every night after we read and say goodnight to Daddy.  I wanted Max to be a part of her life in whatever small way I could manage it. When I look up and see Max’s face, my heart contracts. I let go of Maddy, and she takes her stumbling steps to him. The sand is hard for her but after falling once she makes the six or seven steps to him.  She reaches up to him in complete trust, as only a child can, and my heart flips over as I watch Max hold his daughter for the first time.

46

Max

A one-year-old child unmans me. I hear her sweet voice, calling out da-da, as her chubby, little legs stumble to me, her hands opened wide and my heart bursts into a thousand pieces. I reach down to her, but my legs give out, and I drop down onto the sandy ground beneath, wrapping my arms around her and holding her to me. Tears sting my eyes, and I don’t worry about stopping them. I inhale deeply, taking in a mixture of the ocean’s salt air and the sweet smell of baby. My baby.

I thought I was prepared to meet her. Then she called me daddy…does she know me? How is that even possible? She squirms against my tight hold, so I let her go slightly, looking down at her little face. I wanted her to look like her mom, and I can see parts of Tess in her, but the truth is she looks like me. Her little hand slaps at my nose, and she laughs again.

“Da-Da! Da-Da!”

“She uh…doesn’t know many words yet,” Tess says, and her voice is gruff. Our eyes connect, and she has the same tears in hers that I do.

“How…” I clear my throat and try again when I can’t manage to get the words out the first time. “How does she know that I’m…”

I can’t finish the question. It’s just too big. I’m almost afraid of the answer.

Tess stands up, I can’t. I just sit there holding my daughter in my hands, feeling as if I’m drowning.

She comes to sit beside us and her sweet strawberry scent, a scent I’ve dreamed of and imagined for over a year and a half, closes around me and combines with that of the baby’s and feeling of rightness comes over me. A feeling of being right where I’m supposed to be.  A feeling of being home.

“I have a picture of you. I keep it in a frame in Maddy’s room. Every night, after story time, we uh; we tell daddy goodnight.”

“Da-Da!” Maddy says, on cute her little hand slapping against my cheek.

“That’s right, baby, I am. I’m your daddy.” I say, and the words settle inside of me. I kiss her forehead again and hold her close for a second. I look over at the woman I love. The woman I’ve put through hell. The woman who despite everything has given me two of the most precious gifts in the world. Not only did she give me a child, she also taught that child who I was, even when I couldn’t be here—even when I pushed her away.

“Thank you, Tess,” I tell her, and it sounds lame to my ears. I owe her more. Hell, I owe her the world.

Tess draws her legs against her chest and wraps her arms around them. She looks so small and defenseless sitting there.

“Pa!” Maddy yells out with some more baby gibberish that no one really can understand. She’s jumping and stretching trying to get free from my hold, and there’s only one reason. Marcum. I resent the way she obviously loves him. The way she clearly chooses him over me, and I feel like a fucking loser for feeling that way, for being jealous. Of course she wants to go to him, she knows him. I’m just a man from a picture. That will change now though. I have time now. I have all the time in the world. As my eyes lock on Tess, I vow not to waste it.

Maddy stumbles into Marcum’s waiting hands.

“There’s papaw’s baby!” He says, picking her up and putting her on his hip like an old pro. Then again, with as many kids as he has, he is a pro.  “I thought I’d come down and get my baby and give you two, time to talk.”

“Thanks, old man,” I don’t really want to let Maddy go, but I do need time to talk to Tess—a lot of time if the look of fear on Tess’s face is anything to go by. Marcum heads back to the house talking to the baby while she chants nonsense back to him.

I stand up and turn to Tess. She’s standing and brushing sand off her jeans. She’s gained a little weight over the last year. It looks good on her. She’s just as breathtaking as she always was, but I see signs of the stress from the last year on her face. She has circles and the light in her eyes isn’t quite as bright. Guilt hits me hard. Tess deserves so much in life. Much more than the hell that I’ve put her through.

“I think they’re clean,” I tell her when it becomes apparent that she’s going to keep dusting imaginary sand off of her pants instead of dealing with me. When she raises her eyes up to mine and slowly straightens up, she offers me a weak smile.

“I think I’m nervous,” she whispers.

“I am too. It’s been a hell of a day,” I understate, using the back of my hand to dry any remaining moisture from my eyes and try to put order to my chaotic thoughts.

“Yeah. I’m finding it hard to believe you’re standing here.”

“So am I, Kitten. So am I.”

A look flashes over her face, and I instantly want to smooth it away.

“What?”

“I’d forgotten how much I used to like when you called me Kitten.”

I clear my throat again. Hell, if I cry again she’s going to think I’ve grown weak in the last year. “I want to hold you; I’m just not sure what you’re okay with that, Tess.”

“Truthfully, I’m not sure either. It’s been a long time, Max and the last time I saw you…”

“I know.”

“We have a lot to work out,” she says, and that final hope I had of her falling into my arms and everything being okay, dies.

“Do you want me to stay in my old house, until…I mean, if you need time…”

“No. I don’t want that. Maddy needs you around. I want her to be used to having you here…”

Not exactly what a man wants to hear from the woman he loves, but I guess at least she’s letting me stay. I’ll have to use that to my advantage. She looks away from me, out over the ocean. She looks so lost in thought. Is she wishing I would leave? What’s going on in her head?

“Tess, if you don’t want me to stay here. I can leave after I visit with Maddy. I’d understand.” Even as I make the offer, inside I’m screaming no.

She turns back around to face me. Her lips are curled in, and she’s gnawing gently on the inside of her cheek.  It’s cute, but heartbreaking because it speaks louder than words of how uncomfortable she is around me now.

“I want you here, Max. I want you with me.”

I still see fear in her eyes, but for now, the words are enough. I reach out my hand to her and after a moment of hesitation, she places hers in it. Her touch is warm. Her hand in mine feels right.

“Let’s go and watch our daughter blow out her candles,” I tell her giving her hand a squeeze. She smiles, and I can’t resist kissing her forehead much like I did our daughter earlier. Then, we walk, hand in hand, back to the party.

Epilogue

Tessa

One week later

“Max! I’m home!” I call out entering the house. It’s been a hell of a day. I went back to work after I had Maddy. Max has never been happy about it. He says he has more than enough money to make sure we’re all okay. Plus, his tattoo parlor does really good, even with him not working there. I can’t bring myself to be idle though. Still, many more days like today and I’m going to scream.  I’m working in the public defender’s office now and seeing the way that most of these attorneys don’t even care if the inmates get a fair trial is wearing on me fast. I went off one of the lawyers today. I figure I may get canned come Monday. I’m not sure I care at this point.

I walk through the living room and don’t see him or Maddy, which is strange. They’re usually playing together on the floor or sleeping on the couch this time of day.  The kitchen and dining area are completely open to the living room, so I know he’s not there either. I go through the hallway and peek in Maddy’s room.  Empty.   Next is the room I stay in. I can’t say ours because Max hasn’t been in here with me. We’re slowly finding our footing, but other than a small kiss or two, there’s been nothing else between us. Max has been sleeping on the sofa, and I feel guilty about it. I even admit to myself I want him to sleep beside me, but I can’t bring myself to tell him that.

“Max?” I question as I open the door. He’s lying on the bed watching television. When he sees me the turns the TV off and tosses the remote on the nightstand. “Where’s Maddy?”

“Marcum and Cherry have her tonight.”

My back stiffens at his words. My baby has never stayed away from me. I’ve only just recently weaned her from the breast. “Max, she hasn’t stayed away from the house. You should have asked me before you agreed to this.”

“I would have; if you’d bother talking to me, Tess.”

“What are you talking about? We talk.”

“We talk about what we want to eat. We talk about the weather. We talk about the baby. We just can’t seem to talk about things that really matter.”

“Maddy…”

“Maddy is amazing, and she’s the world to me, but her mother is the reason I draw air into my fucking lungs.”

Heat fills my body, and those words make my legs quake.  “Max…”

“I love you, Tess. I love you. Living with you, but not being free to touch you, to kiss you…Hell even to hold you at night is slowly killing me. I can’t go on like this.”

“Max…”

“You gave yourself to me over a year ago. You might have forgotten that, but I haven’t.”

“I haven’t forgotten! You pushed me away, Max!”

“I was trying to keep you from tying yourself to someone who might never be able to be there for you!”

“You were wrong!”

“Maybe so! But I sure as hell have been doing my best to make it up to you!”

“You destroyed me! I cried for months! It felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest!”

“You don’t think I felt the same, Tess?”

“It was your choice, Max! That’s the difference! You decided what was best, and you did it!”

“To protect you, woman!”

“I didn’t ask for it! I asked to go away with you! You decided against that without listening to me! Then when things didn’t go according to your grand design, Mad Max struck again! You decided to freeze me out of your life. It didn’t matter what I wanted! You decided you knew what was best for me, yet again!”

“Tess!”

“What happens if I let you in again Max? What happens when you decide that things are too difficult again? What happens when you chicken out?”

“Is that really what you think of me, Tess? Do you think so little of me?”

His words do nothing but increase my anger. How can he say that to me? What gives him the right to say that to me?

“Wrong again, Max! It’s you who thinks so little of me! It’s you who thinks I am so weak that I can’t stand beside you no matter what!”

He looks at me, really looks at me, and I don’t know if my words have finally made it through, or if it’s something else. He walks over to me, and he does something he hasn’t done in so long I’ve almost forgotten how much I love it. He wraps his hand around the side of my neck, and he pulls me in close to him.

“It was never about you. It was what I didn’t want for you. What would have happened, Tess, if I never got out? If the time we had together before was all we were ever going to get. How would it have been fair to you to live like that?”

The pain and emotion in his voice cuts through my hurt and anger. I take a breath and try to make him see what he did.

“What if I get sick tomorrow, Max? Hell, what happens if I lay down tonight and don’t wake back up? If our past is all that we ever have, would the fact that I’m not here make it hurt less? Or would you rather at least have me to talk with, to know that I am still here in whatever form, and I still care?”

“You will not get sick. Do you hear me, Tess? You will not get sick. You won’t even think about that shit.” His fingers contract against my neck as he pulls me closer to him. His body shakes as he pulls my face against his chest.  “You won’t get sick, Tess. You won’t leave me.”

My hand grasp his hips, and I close my eyes. He loves me. However warped his thoughts were, I can understand them. Listening to him talk, maybe I would have done the same. I can’t say. I only saw things from my point of view.

“I won’t leave you, Max. You love me.”

“Love’s not a strong enough word for how I feel about you, Tess.”

“Then show me,” I tell him, pressing my lips against his chest.

“Tess?” He pulls back, questioning me.

“Make love to me, Max. I miss you.”

“Are we okay now?” He asks; those beautiful eyes of his looking down at me—searching.

“We’re more than okay.”

“God, I’ve missed you, Kitten.”

“Then, show me,” I dare him and wait to see what happens next.

Max

After going for so long, feeling as if everything was wrong, it’s surreal to know that finally…finally, things are clicking into place. I bend down and place my lips against Tess’s. The taste of her is familiar, but it’s been so long since I’ve had it, that I can’t stop. I push my fingers through her hair and tighten them in it. The texture, the feel, along with her taste; combine to set my blood on fire. My tongue thrusts into her mouth, not asking for entry, taking it. I ravage her mouth in the same manner, owning it. Showing her, that regardless of what has gone down in the past, she is and always will be mine. She’s right there with me, taking what I give and doing her best to match me.

When we break apart she’s breathing so hard her body is shaking slightly. Her nipples are tight, hard nubs straining through her clothes, her cheeks are blushed with color and her lips are already swollen. My dick is already straining, and my balls are tight with the need to release. It’s been a long time since I’ve had sex; since I’ve been inside Tess, and I know this won’t last long. There’s just no way. I need her too much. I take two steps away from her. She’s a drug that is clouding my head. I need to clear it if I have any hope of making this last longer than a couple of minutes.

I don’t ask, I just reach over and grab her shirt on each end of her collar and pull it apart. Buttons pull, release, or pop free. Her breasts are larger than I remember. She’s stopped breastfeeding Maddy, but maybe that still affects things. I undo the clasp at the center of her bra and Tess helps me by taking what’s left of her shirt off and then throwing her bra down to join it. My thumb goes to tweak her nipple, brushing it gently. Tess’s fingers are pushing into my hips, and when I do squeeze her nipple, her nails claw into me, making my dick throb in anticipation.

“Even more beautiful than I remembered, Kitten,” I praise her.

“Max…things are different now. I have stretch marks, and well, I’m just not the same,” she trails off, her face flushes even deeper in color, but I know now it’s from embarrassment, rather than excitement. I can’t have that.

I push her skirt down off her hips, hooking my fingers in her underwear so that it all falls down in one movement.  I see the small stretch marks that now cover her stomach and part of her hips. I pick her up and carry her to the bed, laying her down gently. Once she’s settled, I reach down to kiss her stomach. Later, when I have more patience, I will run my tongue over every mark on her body. For now my kiss will have to do.

“Tess, you are beautiful to me, always. These marks are just proof that you brought our amazing daughter into this world. I look at them and feel nothing but pride and need. Do you understand?” I ask her, my voice thick with emotion.  I’m not lying, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful. She nods her head in agreement, but I still see the doubt in her eyes. My eyes go to my name on her hip.  She’s mine. I forgot that for a little while. I forgot what we had together. Her self-doubt is my fault, and I need to make sure I leave no more room for that in her mind. She needs to know that there’s not another woman in the world who could compete with her, in my eyes. My finger trembles as I trace my name. Mine. For way too fucking long, I forgot that. I let her forget it. Worse, I let her think it wasn’t true. Time to remedy that.

I pull back, standing to undress while she watches me. There’s interest and even desire in her eyes, but it’s almost trampled out by fear. I throw my clothes behind me with more force than necessary. I’m mad at the circumstances of our past—I’m mad at myself. I bury those feelings. They don’t belong between Tess and me right now. I need to start moving forward, not looking back. I need her to do that too. I pull her legs apart, admiring the way her sweet pussy is already glistening for me. I reach down and slap it once and enjoy the sound and feel of it so much that I do it again and then hold my hand there enjoying the feel of the moisture, the rippling of her muscles contracting and the heat rolling off of her.  Mine. Possessiveness moves through me hard and fast, and I can’t resist slapping her pussy again.

“Mine,” I growl, feeling like a fucking caveman, but not about to change. Tess’s feet press down into the mattress, and she groans, pushing up against my hand. I increase the pressure of my hold by letting my fingers dig into the bend between her stomach and her pussy. Instantly the proof of her desire increases against my hand. So fucking wet. I control her pussy. Even after all this time, it’s me who can make her crazy with just a touch.

“Max, oh god!” she cries out, her voice shuddering with need.

“Look at me, Tess,” I command, refusing to do anything else until I have her complete attention. She lifts her eyes to me, and the doubt is gone. Now, she is just a creature filled with desire. “Watch me,” I tell her while stroking my cock and squeezing it tightly. I watch as a thread of pre-cum slips off the head of my dick and travels down against the pale white skin of her stomach.

“Max, please.” Her voice is hoarse and full of need.

I take her hand, wrap it around the base of my cock and then cover it with my own. Together we stroke my dick, using enough pressure that this alone could make me shoot my load in no time.

“Does this feel like I want you less, Kitten? Can you feel how hard I’m throbbing for you?” I grunt, as our hands slide back down and complete another thrust.

“Jesus, Max please,” she whimpers. Tilting her legs further apart, her whole upper body lifts off the bed now so she can be closer to my cock. She’s propping herself up on one elbow and straining to get closer. Her face is glowing, her hair mussed, and her tongue keeps darting out to lick her lip like the greedy, hungry woman she is. Mine.

“Answer me, Tess! Do you think I want you less than I have in the past?” I demand yet again, taking my hands away. I thrust two fingers in her without warning. I thought since had a baby, she’d be looser somehow. That’s not the way it worked out. Maybe it’s because it’s been over a year since she’s had the baby or maybe it’s because we haven’t been together in so long. Whatever it is, she takes my fingers, but it feels like just the invasion of the two of them stretch her beyond her limits.  I press my thumb against her clit, hard. Letting it rub and tease the slickened nub. I pull my fingers apart inside her, stretching her further. With the attention on her clit, her body nearly bends in half as she thrusts up from the bed.  “Answer me, damn it!” I growl, thrusting harder and using one hand to bite down on her hip and pushing her back down against the bed. My hand covers my name and again, one word repeats in my brain. Mine.

I thrust in and out of her harder, fucking her with my fingers as hard as I ever have with my cock. Punishing and pleasuring her body at simultaneously. Tess takes it all, and when I curve my fingers up to hit that spot that’s sure to send her over the edge, while my thumb bites into her clit, she lets out a keening cry that echoes in the whole damn house.

“Mine!” I tell her, like the caveman she turns me into. On cue, Tess erupts around my fingers. Her orgasm, crashing down on her with the force of a hurricane.

“Max!” She cries out, helpless to do anything but go wherever her body takes her. I remove my hands and poise my cock at her entrance, desperate to join her.

“Tess, condom?” I ask the poorly worded question. I couldn’t make sense right now if I tried, I’m just trying to hold on to my sanity long enough to protect her.

Her hands grasp my ass, her nails biting into me as she tries to pull me into her.

“I’m on the pill,” she gasps.

Her words bring disappointment, but I don’t delay another minute. I push into my woman and bury myself inside of her. Once I’ve fed her my entire cock, I stop and just take in the moment, taking in the memory, and rejoicing that I’m finally inside my woman again. God, I’ve missed her. The tremors inside her pussy fluctuate against my cock and remind me that she’s already over the edge. I can’t allow her to land. I position one of her legs over my shoulder and sink yet deeper inside of her. My cock raking her walls. She cries out. I lift her ass up with my hold on her hip. Leaving her helpless to take any type of control. I’m in charge. I’m in control. She will take what I give her. Then, I do what I’ve been dying to do for way too long. I fuck her hard. Each thrust is powerful enough that the headboard pushes against the wall. Her body rocks with the force of it and my balls slap against her. I wrap my hand so that I’m hugging her leg that’s on my chest and shoulder, tighter, while at the same time using the fingers from that hand to pinch, twist and pet her hard clit.

I feel heat zap up my spine, signaling my impending release, just as her head thrashes against the pillow, and she cries out. Her body clamps down on my cock and her second orgasm rakes through her. This one powerful enough to take me with her. We come together in a serious of cries and animal noises, my cum shooting inside of her so powerful, it feels as if my cock vibrates from it.

When it’s done, we’re nothing but grunting animals, breathing hard, and covered in perspiration. The scent of sex is heavy in the air. My moans join her whimpers when I leave her body. I land to the side of her, making the mattress bounce slightly. I take her in my arms, needing her as close as I can since I’m not inside of her anymore.

“Holy hell. That was…wow.”

I smile at her softly spoken affirmation.

“I love you, Kitten.”

She hugs me tight for a second and then lets off on the pressure while still keeping her arms around me.

“I love you too, Max. God, I love you so much.”

“No more doubts or hiding, Tess.” When her body tenses up, and it feels like she might argue, I stop her with a kiss on her forehead. “For either of us, Kitten. This is it. We’ll weather whatever comes our way, together.”

“No more decisions alone, Max. We’re a team now.”

“No more decisions alone,” I agree.

My fingers seek out hers, and I thread them through hers, raising our hands so I can see them together…joined.

“Why are you on birth control, Tess?”

“The doctor asked after my last checkup if I wanted to go on it. I wasn’t sure where we stood, but Marcum said you’d be coming home soon. It seemed like the thing to do,” she yawns, curling deeper into my hold.

“You wanted me, even with all of the fuck-ups I kept making?”

“I’ll always want you, Max. Always,” she says kissing my shoulder. “You’re what I’ve wanted my entire life. You and Maddy are my family. You’re where I belong.”

I close my eyes as her words wash over me, and son of a bitch if I can’t feel moisture gathering there again.

“Same goes for me, Kitten,” I tell her, my voice thick.

“Good, because I’m not letting you go.”

“Never give up on me, Kitten.”

“I never have. Even when you were an ass,” she says, and I can’t help but laugh because she’s right. I was an ass. “I’m sleepy, Max. I think you zapped me,” she says, yawning again.

“Nonsense, you just need your stamina building up. I’ll make that my life’s mission.”

“Ut oh.”

I bury my head in the side of her neck and nibble on the flesh there. She purrs and shifts against me, her body already searching for more.

“I want another baby with you, Tess,” I tell her licking the skin I’ve been torturing and trying to pretend my statement isn’t worrying me. She has every reason to say no.

“Max…”

“I’d be here every step of the way this time, Kitten.”

“Max…” I hear the hesitation in her voice, and I tap down my disappointment. If all we have, is each other and Maddy, I’m okay with that.

“It’s okay, Tess. We don’t have to …”

Her fingers cover my lips, and I look down at her. Her eyes are bright again, with happiness.

“I want another baby with you, Max. It’s just; I was kind of thinking about going to law school.”

“Law school?”  I ask her, unable to resist kissing her lips again.

“I do most of the work now, but I’m useless when it comes to going in front of the court to fight for my clients. I want to be on the frontline, so that when people like you go to trial, you have someone who cares about what happens. When a person who has served their time comes up for parole, there should be someone with them who cares about their case. I want to do that.”

“So go to law school,” I tell her, feeling at peace with the world. I lay on my back and pull her over my body, so she straddles me.

“But if we have a baby…”

“We can do both. My hours are flexible at the shop. In fact, the boys can pretty much handle it without me. I might even bring Lenny in as a partner. He’s been doing it all since I’ve been gone anyway. I can stay home and take care of Maddy and any other baby we’re lucky enough to have.”

“Seems like you have this all worked out,” she says, and her smile speaks volumes, but it’s the tears in her eyes that tell me she’s happy.

“Pretty much. Now if you’d just get busy and do what you need to do.”

“Throw away my birth control?”

“Well that too, but I meant; ride your man.”

“You’re not too tired?” She asks with a saucy grin.

“I’ve got a lot to make up for,” I tell her, groaning as she lifts up and wraps her hand around the base of my cock.

“We have time now, Max. We have time.” She says sliding down on my shaft.

“That we do, Kitten. That we do,” I agree, taking her mouth with mine.

As she starts riding me, I realize that Tess has done the impossible. She’s made me believe in fairytales.

THE END

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Epilogue

Happy Trail (Sneak Peek)

Unlawful Seizure (Bonus Book)