Chapter 17
Sorry I’m late, traffic is exactly how it’s been every day for the last five years, and I was not expecting that.
— Maven to her first customer
MAVEN
I was quickly losing control.
I’d gone to bed an hour and a half ago.
I’d gotten up twice now to see if I could hear any movement from Auden’s room, hoping he’d be awake when it was clear he wasn’t.
Earlier , I’d been so beat that I’d fallen asleep in the fluffy towel that smelled like Auden . And , like always happened, once it was nighttime, I hadn’t been able to go to sleep at all.
I was now pacing my room, wondering if it would wake him up if I headed out to the kitchen and snacked on some leftovers from the impromptu get together.
A get together I hadn’t been able to eat much at because I’d been so nervous among Auden’s family.
I’d wanted them to like me, so I’d socialized with them all, getting to know each one individually.
I’d met his sister, Ande , and her husband, Keene . Keene owned a circus with his sisters, and apparently Keene and Ande’s children were also partially circus children because they were crazy talented and acrobatic to the point they were hanging off of everything like monkeys.
Then I’d socialized with Hollis and talked with her about being a mom to the cutest toddler in the world, Dalia . Then I’d been insanely jealous when Hollis had been picked up like she weighed nothing and tossed over her husband, Quincy’s , shoulder.
I’d also learned that Quincy , Quaid , and Quinn were triplets. I mean, it’d been obvious once Ellodie and Shayne had pointed it out, and I’d felt kind of dumb. Then Shayne had shocked me even more when she told me not only had Garnett had a set of triplets and twins— Auden and Atlas I’d known about—but she’d also had Ande and Addison , as well as Gable and Garrett .
My heart had ached all over again when they told me about how Addison had died a few years back from suicide.
It’d broken my heart for the entire family, and I’d felt like utter shit for even bringing up the missing sister.
Luckily , I’d done it in the presence of the female spouses and not any of the brothers. Shayne had shared that they were all still very broken up about it and didn’t think that they would ever stop.
I didn’t blame them.
The death of Addison was quite different from my stepmother’s.
Though , that was what my stepmother’s death was. A suicide. In the grand scheme of things.
Even worse, the car that she could’ve avoided, who’d also run their own red light, must live with the consequences of this crash for the rest of her life.
It also got me to remembering Dorsey , and Dorsey’s phone that my stepmother had.
I pulled my phone out and messaged my sister, flabbergasted that I hadn’t thought to contact her about it all until now.
When I reached for my phone, I saw I had over thirty messages from my sister on Messenger .
“ Shit ,” I said as I read them all.
They started out pretty tame, then ended with Dorsey saying she was going to start heading back to Dallas if I didn’t answer soon.
I quickly typed out a message, telling her everything that had happened from the moment my stepmother had called on her phone.
It took her a solid ten minutes to read and respond, and when she did, I burst out laughing.
Dorsey :
Is it bad that I don’t give a fuck?
Me :
I don’t think so, no. I hate to be this person, but she died right next to me, and the worst thing I could think of was that I’d have to deal with Chief Austin .
I’d probably never forget how Vickie looked after she’d died. I didn’t think that you could ever get over seeing someone stuck halfway out of a windshield, bloody and broken.
But the fact that it was my stepmother didn’t really change much for me.
Sure , I felt bad.
Who wouldn’t?
But Vickie and I hadn’t been close. Her lack of caring about how we were treated, as well as her indifference to anything but her work, was enough to stop me from caring about her a long time ago. At this point all she was was an acquaintance.
Dorsey :
Okay , I won’t come home. And I’m glad, because the drive here was fucking awful. It was balls to taint traffic the entire way from the moment I entered Tennessee . I felt like I was driving on 635, but on a two-lane road, the entire way. Ugh . Love you, Mave . Let me know how the funeral goes.
Me :
You’re not coming home for the funeral?
Dorsey :
Absolutely not. I don’t want to see Scott or Chief Austin .
I just shook my head.
Me :
I don’t know that I’m going to go either. Would it be the expected thing to do? Yes . Do I care at this point? Absolutely not.
Dorsey :
Good . It’s time we take care of ourselves. Guess Mom was right. Time to get my own phone plan.
I choked on my own spit.
Me :
Night , Dorse . Love you.
Dorsey :
Love you, too. Also , just sayin’, but it’s seventy degrees here right now.
I choked.
Me :
What ?!
That bitch.
It was a hundred damn degrees, and it was damn twelve-thirty in the morning.
After signing off with Dorsey , I texted Athena to see if she was awake, but she didn’t answer.
Which left me to my own thoughts about the man who was sleeping just feet away.
The man who made me burn and had been doing it since I’d met him the first time he came into my bakery.
I got up and started pacing. After the fourth down and back, I decided to brave the kitchen.
The only thing that would make this better was if I had either the man himself, or a Danish .
Since the man wasn’t a possibility right now, I chose to take the Danish .
Opening my door as quietly as possible, I snuck down the hall to the kitchen, once again admiring the house.
Auden had landed somewhere between rustic farmhouse and simply modern.
The kitchen was bright and airy, had top-of-the-line appliances, but also boasted the best farmhouse sink I’d ever seen, a great big butcher block island in the center of the room that would be perfect to bake on, and a roof line that was glorious.
The ceiling was a clear, sealed pine, and the walls were simply white.
The countertops that lined the back counters of the kitchen were white quartz with gray accents.
The floor was a rustic dark wood that felt like it was tile, and…
“ Hey ,” Auden said.
I gasped, surprised to find him sitting at the island counter munching on my cheese Danish .
“ I was coming out here to eat that,” I admitted softly.
I felt his eyes travel up the length of my body, stopping to take in my bare legs.
That’s when I remembered that I was in his t-shirt and nothing else.
“ I’ll share,” he said huskily.
He broke the Danish in half, then offered me the piece he’d eaten off of.
I snickered and reached for it, our fingers brushing. I brought the small bit to my lips and ate it whole.
When I was done, I licked my fingers clean of the gooey cream cheese and icing. When I looked back at him it was to see his eyes heated and him readjusting his seat.
I bit my lip, and his eyes zeroed in on my mouth.
I wasn’t sure who moved first, him or me, but in between my licking my fingers clean and pulling my fingers from between my lips, we were pressed against each other.
He twisted us, picking me up easily, and depositing my ass on the counter.
I squeaked at the feel of the cool counter underneath my bare ass, and squirmed.
But that discomfort was overshadowed with how he moved in and caught my mouth with his again.
“ Sweet ,” he said, pulling back to lick my lips. “ You taste like my favorite thing in the world.”
I knew that the Danish was his favorite. That was why I always secretly held one back for him in case he showed up at my bakery for a snack.
It was also why I kept making the Danish itself when I rotated literally every other thing in my bakery, including the chocolate chip cookies which were everyone’s favorite.
“ I only make them for you,” I admitted when he paused in kissing me to allow us to breathe.
His eyes gleamed in the low light, and I couldn’t stop myself from returning the favor, licking his lips clean like he’d done mine.
His were sweet, too.
The move caused his hands to grip my hips tight, fingers digging into the ample flesh.
“ Do you think this is too fast?” he rasped, his gaze on my mouth.
I moved forward, allowing our groins to brush.
“ I think it hasn’t been fast enough,” I admitted, then gripped his t-shirt and pulled him in even tighter.
He came willingly, then used his grip on my hips to press us together so fully that there was no doubt he wanted me just as much as I wanted him.
Between one breath and the next, my t-shirt was gone from my body, and he was pushing me backward on the counter.
“ This is the other thing I’ve been dying to do,” he admitted as he pulled my ass to the edge and bent down.
I gasped, my legs lifting on their own volition, to clamp down on his head that was now fully between my thighs.
The first brush of his tongue against my clit had my back bowing off the counter.
The second had my fingers digging into his hair and tugging.
He chuckled against my clit, and that was the last rational thought I had as I urged him on, pushing my pussy against his mouth in invitation.
His fingers left my hips, one going south while the other went north.
The fingers of his left hand entered me while the fingers of his right caught one of my nipples and twisted.
I cried out at the sensation.
His mouth on my clit, two fingers deep inside my pussy, and his fingers pinching my nipple had my head whirling.
I didn’t know what to concentrate on.
And maybe that was his entire intention, to disorient me.
“ Oh , fuck,” I gasped in the most ladylike fashion.
My thighs had to be smothering him, but I couldn’t stop the squeezing. Couldn’t stop anything, really.
Especially not the orgasm that was barreling down on me.
I gasped, my toes curling, and then he curled his fingers.
That , apparently, was all that I needed to come.
I came, too.
As in, gushed.
I’d never, not in my life, felt the sensation before, but when he pulled back, his mouth and throat wet, my cheeks flamed.
Had I just…
“ Fuck , that’s so hot,” he growled, his eyes strangely intense. “ Fuck me.”
I went to reply, ready to apologize for practically soaking his face, but he was on me in the next breath.
I was flipped, my legs were now hanging, my toes barely brushing the ground, and he was filling me up so full that the embarrassment fled.
He felt… divine.
Like he was meant to be exactly where he was at.
His cock moved, slamming into me with such force that it should’ve hurt.
It didn’t hurt. It felt perfect.
He hit me so deep, the orgasm that had just passed felt like a baby compared to the one that was once again heading my way.
Like the calm before the storm.
I cried out with each thrust of his hard and very large cock.
I felt stretched where I’d never stretched before.
And God , did he feel deep. So . Deep .
His hands dug into my ass, and for once the self-consciousness didn’t rear its ugly head as his fingers were filled with the less than toned flesh.
My breasts were shaking. Hell , the fat on my belly was shaking. My ass was shaking. Everything was shaking.
I didn’t care, though.
I was so lost in the spiral downward into oblivion that I was psychically incapable of caring about anything but his next thrust.
His thrusts were long, deep, and even. No deviation in a single inch that he was giving me.
I built, higher and higher and higher. So high, in fact, that I started to get a little worried.
If he could make me feel like this, what else could he do to me?
“ That’s it, baby,” he growled, his voice low, thick, and deep as he turned me onto my back, plunging in again without any pause. “ I can feel that pussy tightening on me.”
I was.
“ Can you give it to me?” he panted. “ Can you let go?”
“ Not yet,” I keened. “ Not just…”
Something hit my clit.
I felt it tap on the very tip, then it started dripping down, mixing with…
Another tap.
I peeled open my eyes to see him spit on me a third time.
I hated spit. I hated…
I came.
I came so fast and hard that I forgot what it was I was supposed to be disgusted by.
The orgasm overtook me.
I closed my eyes, my body arched, and it took me over completely.
“ Fuck , fuck, fuck,” he growled. “ Fuck , look how pretty you come.”
I was dizzy.
The air inside my lungs was frozen.
My body was hot and cold at the same time.
I was floating and so heavy.
“ Jesus , baby. Jesus ,” he gasped.
Then he was pulling out, and my pussy continued to clench on emptiness.
Bereft .
That was how I felt.
Like I was missing a vital piece of my soul.
The spray of his cum lashed at my overheated body.
I felt the thick spray of it hit from groin to lips.
Four hard pulses, that I only managed to take all the way in on the fourth pulse.
He was… gorgeous.
His eyes were molten chocolate.
His mouth was a thin line, and his jaw was clenched so hard that even through the light beard he had, I could see the muscles work.
But it was the way his abs were tensed, and his hand was fisted around his pulsing cock, that had my gaze enraptured.
He pumped hard, pulling the last dregs of his release from his body with harsh pumps of his hand over his engorged cock.
His big, never going to fit in my mouth no matter how much practicing I did, cock.
My eyes were wide as I stared at him, taking him in from head to mid-thigh.
My legs were spread wide, heels resting on the counter.
His eyes were closed now, his head drooping.
His chest was heaving.
His abs were fantastic and defined.
His forearms were spectacular.
His hands were to die for.
His cock was intimidating.
His balls were large and hung loosely.
But it was the tattoo on his chest, of a cupcake, that finally caught my gaze and held it.
“ You have a cupcake tattooed on your chest,” I breathed.
His eyes slowly opened, and he stared into my eyes.
That lazy gaze swept down over my body, taking in the cum that was decorating my torso.
I wiped it free of my face with two fingers, then reached down and swiped it over my nipple, rubbing the thick liquid into my areola.
His eyes went even lazier, and I swear that his cock gave another pulse.
“ When I was eighteen, and thought I was hot shit, I walked into a tattoo parlor on the day of my birthday and got it,” he said. “ My friends were with me, and they laughed their ass off when I picked it off of a wall. I loved it, though, because it was so detailed. But maybe my eighteen-year-old self knew something I’m just now realizing.”
My lips tipped up.
He reached for my hand, and slowly tugged me off the counter.
I went to step down, but he caught me with one hand behind my ass, then directed me to wrap my legs around his waist.
I did, and he carried me straight to the bathroom.
Once there, he turned on the shower, and stepped inside only when it was heated completely.
We didn’t talk as he washed me clean of his release.
He didn’t say a word when he washed my hair with his shampoo and conditioner combo, either.
Not once did he say a single word while he was drying me off.
Nor did he say anything when he pulled me to his bed, not bothering with clothes for either one of us.
I stayed silent, my mind whirling.
I had so many questions.
I wanted so many things.
And , as if he could sense that my mind was a spiraling mess, he shifted the covers over us both, pulled me in close, uncaring of my wet hair, and buried his face into my neck.
“ Go to sleep, cupcake ,” he whispered. “ I have to go to work at six, and I have a feeling I’m going to need my strength. Both to keep up with you when I get up in the morning, and to deal with your dad when I’m done. I’ll have all the answers after that.”
I swallowed hard but laid my head back down on his chest.
I would be quiet.
I would be…
I was asleep before he was, and completely missed his last words.
You’re mine, and we’ll figure this out together.