Stand and Deliver (RAVEN Securities #1)

Chapter 1

“I’m off,” I said as I breezed through the kitchen. Off to meet a man and get fucked.

And it was about damn time.

I made it as far as the exterior door in the utility room before I had to stop and retrace my steps.

The parking situation was just one of many obstacles we’d had to overcome since I moved back in with my parents five months ago.

We were always blocking one another since there was limited room in our driveway, and parking on the street was against the homeowner’s association rules for our neighborhood. There went my simple escape.

Poking my head into the kitchen, I said, “Mom, could I ask you to move your car?”

She stood at the kitchen sink, staring out the window while she scrubbed a skillet she’d used to make dinner.

And though her profile was to me, I recognized her dreamy smile and faraway expression.

She might’ve been standing in the kitchen, but the audiobook she was listening to had transported her to another time and place.

Everyone had their form of escapism, and the English lit teacher who raised me dove headfirst into her books.

My chosen escape for the evening hopefully involved a hunk of a man bending me over and railing me within an inch of my life, not that I would share that detail with my mother. And I was going to be late if I didn’t get my squeaky-clean and smooth ass on the road.

“Mom,” I said a little louder as I approached.

The scrubbing brush in her hand circled around and around, cleaning the same spot, as her grin grew broader and her cheeks turned pinker.

Ahh, it was one of those types of books.

Someone’s bodice was ripping, and someone’s codpiece was coming off.

God, when had I even learned those terms, and how quickly could I forget them?

“Mom.” She still hadn’t heard me by the time I reached her side, so I gently touched her forearm to get her attention.

Big mistake.

Mom yelped in alarm as she dropped the scrubbing brush into the sink and swung that fucking skillet like a weapon.

Unfortunately for me, she’d been cleaning the ancient cast-iron one she’d inherited from her grandmother.

I ducked in the nick of time, and the heavy skillet swung over my head, close enough to ruffle my hair.

The heavy bastard smashed into the front of the farmhouse sink with a reverberating clang.

My ears rang, and I labored to catch my breath as I slowly stood up, hands out in front of me in surrender. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Mom winced as she placed the skillet on the counter, but I couldn’t tell if it was because her ears were ringing like mine or if I’d yelled my apology because of temporary hearing loss.

Mom pressed a hand to her chest, heaving a sigh, and that’s when one of her AirPods flew from her ear and landed in the dirty water.

“Fuck a duck!” Mom yelled. “That’s the second AirPod I’ve lost this week.” Growling, she reached down into the water and fished it out. “At least these new ones are water-resistant. No harm, no foul. But the other poor bastard fell into the garbage disposal while I was using it.”

Temporarily stunned, I could only stare at my mother in shock.

She arched a brow and asked, “What? You act as if you’ve never heard me cuss.”

“I’ve never heard you say ‘fuck’ before,” I replied. “And I’ve certainly never heard you make a bestiality reference.” Cocking my head to the side, I added, “But I think I finally have an answer to a lifelong question.”

Mom crossed her arms over her chest and grinned. “And what’s that?”

“My chaotic clumsiness comes from your side of the family.”

Her mouth popped open in outrage, but no denial passed her lips.

The longer I thought about it, the more I knew I was onto something.

My mother was the epitome of ladylike grace until something or someone startled her, hence my deeply ingrained muscle memory that had prevented a concussion or worse.

Mom must’ve realized how close I’d come to getting injured, too, because she slapped a hand over her mouth and cried out.

Hazel-brown eyes, so much like my own, widened in regret as tears filled them.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, the words muffled by her hand.

Wrapping her in a hug, I kissed Mom’s cheek. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I know better than to interrupt your one-on-one time with a book. That must be some story you’re listening to. You blushed, you swooned, and you nearly brained your only son.”

She snorted, and we both laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. This was the lightest my soul had felt since moving back home with my heart in tatters and my tail tucked between my legs.

Mom inhaled to catch her breath and patted my chest. “What did you want to ask me?”

“When I so rudely interrupted your book, you mean?” Shaking my head, I dropped my arms and stepped back. “I bet the Braves will call you up any minute, Slugger. You’d make a great pinch hitter.”

“Oh, hush.” Mom turned back to cleaning the skillet. “Seriously, what did you need?”

Shit! I’d nearly forgotten in all the excitement. “Can you move your car? I want to head out for a bit.”

Mom looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “Are you meeting someone?” The hopefulness in her voice was unmistakable, and I needed to frame my response carefully.

“I am, but it’s not for a date.”

And it wasn’t a lie. I’d met a hot guy named Ray on the newest gay hookup app called Randy, and he was very clear about his intentions. He wanted to fuck. A one and done. That’s what I wanted too, but I didn’t want to share that with the woman who raised me.

“Oh, darn. You deserve happiness, Kit,” Mom said, her eyes going soft and dreamy. “Someone who will treat you right. An epic romance.”

Yep, Valerie Livengood was still fully entrenched in the fictional world I’d rudely crashed.

While she had hearts in her eyes, imagining a fairy-tale romance for her baby boy, I wanted Ray to plow my ass until I came hard enough to see stars.

But again, that was TMI for my sweet mother.

She was my biggest ally and supporter, but that didn’t mean she wanted to know how gay sex worked or what I preferred from a sex partner.

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Just take my car. I don’t need it tonight.”

The offer was sweet and shocking. The sleek, sporty sedan with more horsepower than one person needed was the first thing she’d ever bought just for herself.

Dad had teased that he was the one who was supposed to go out and buy a fast car during a midlife crisis, and she’d called the purchase an empty-nest gift to herself.

Hell, she’d seldom let Dad drive her precious baby, but Mom offered it to me without hesitation.

Me, the chaotic klutz. Was this an act of pity for her dateless, twenty-six-year-old son?

Did I want to stand around and ponder the reason, or did I want to accept her kind offer and get on the road?

Asshole to Atticus, we want fucked? The latter, definitely.

“Thanks, I’ll drive carefully.” I bussed a kiss across her cheek before darting out of the kitchen.

Our key chains hung from an organizer in the shape of a wooden key by the utility room door, and I grabbed Mom’s fob on my way out.

“Sorry, Sadie,” I called out to my fifteen-year-old, once-silver Subaru hatchback parked in front of my mother’s black beauty.

Sadie had once belonged to Mom during her sensible, family-car days.

She’d bought a new Subaru hatchback and had given her old one to me when I got my license.

I’ve adored Sadie ever since, and the two of us had seen some shit over the past ten years.

I paused at the driver’s-side door of the sleek black ride.

“It’s nothing personal, sweetheart. I’ll never love this car like I love you. ”

Sliding behind the wheel, I pressed the button to start the engine, and it roared to life with a throaty purr.

Loud music immediately assaulted my ears, and I reached for the volume before my brain could figure out what radio station my mom had been listening to when she’d last driven.

It was a song from one of the rock-and-roll hair bands of the eighties where the gravel-throated singer belted out a ballad about unrequited love.

As I reached for the gearshift to reverse out of the driveway, the car radio connected to my mom’s phone, and a man’s husky voice came through the speakers.

“I sank my dick into the sweetest, tightest ass I’d ever known.”

My eyes nearly popped out of my head when a new voice, also male, moaned as if he would happily die on the dick splitting him open.

Then the first guy spoke again. “‘That’s right, baby. Take it. Take all of me like a good little—’”

The rock ballad blared through the speakers again, making me flinch.

What the hell had just happened? Was my mom listening to a gay romance?

Too stunned to move, I stared into space long enough for her to poke her head out of the utility room door and mouth “sorry” at me.

I waved her away and eased my foot off the brake, carefully reversing out of the driveway and onto the street after checking both directions twice.

Still shook from what I’d overheard, my heart pounded as the narrator’s growly voice echoed through my skull.

Take all of him like a good little…what?

My mind spun with possibilities as I shifted my foot from the brake to the gas pedal.

Mom’s car shot forward as if blasted from a cannon, and I eased up on the accelerator.

Whoops! Sadie required a much heavier foot to go half as fast. Must’ve experienced those twin turbos Mom kept talking about when she’d bought the car.

I stopped at the next intersection to get my racing heart and hormones under control.

The only thing I wanted to wreck was my ass, definitely not my mom’s pride and joy.

Get it together, Atticus.