Chapter 25 Keaton
Chapter twenty-five
Keaton
“K
eaton Fisher.” Mr. Scottsdale, the high school principal, stepped into my biology class at the end of the day.
“Can you collect your things and come with me, please?” The “oos” of my classmates didn’t bother me as I did what the principal asked.
I know I hadn’t done anything wrong, but when I stepped out in the hallway and saw my younger brother Lincoln standing there, I had no doubt he did something wrong.
I swear if he jeopardizes my scholarship because he pulled some dumbass prank, I’m gonna kick his ass.
“What did you do?” I accuse him and he holds up his hands.
“Don’t come at me like that, I am just as confused as you are.
” We follow our principal to his office, where the sheriff and the guidance counselor are seated.
The door clicks behind us as we step in, the space suddenly becoming a lot smaller.
“Boys, we brought you in here because unfortunately we have some bad news.” My brother and I look at each other unsure what the hell could be going on.
“Earlier today there was a bad accident out on the interstate. Unfortunately, that accident involved your father.” “Is our dad okay?” Lincoln asks.
Mrs. Grimes, the guidance counselor, begins to cry and shakes her head.
“Boys, I’m so sorry.” “Where’s our dad?” I ask and the sheriff looks over at us.
“Your dad didn’t survive the crash, boys.
He’s passed. I’m so sorry for your loss. ”
I scrub at my skin until it’s raw, trying to erase the painful memory from my mind. Instead, another one crashes into me.
“Hey, Mom, I’m home!” I call out to the house where we all live.
For now, anyway. The company my brothers and I have started together is slowly building and I see big things for our future.
I walk further into the house, but my mom isn’t perched on the couch in her usual spot.
Hmm, maybe she’s taking a nap. Heading into her bedroom just to make sure she’s okay, I find my mother in her bed, pale and breathing shallowly, covered in her own vomit.
Was she sick? Is it a bug? “Mama, you feeling okay?” There’s no response from her.
I walk over and place my hand against her forehead and she’s burning up.
Fuck. She was fine this morning. “Mama,” I say again, but she doesn’t react.
That’s when I see it. The empty prescription bottle in the bed next to her.
I call 911 and then Lincoln. Cam is hours away at law school, so I’ll have to catch him up later.
It feels like hours before the ambulance shows up, even though my phone shows that I only called six minutes ago.
I stood back to let the paramedics take over.
Lincoln was on his way and as soon as he arrived, I hopped in his car, and we followed the emergency vehicle to the hospital in the next town over.
They pumped her stomach but ultimately sent her to Lexington where she spent several weeks in recovery and we found out what happened.
She had gone into town that morning for her monthly hair appointment down at the Clip n’ Curl, followed by lunch with some ladies in town.
Apparently, she had complained about not being able to sleep without my dad beside her anymore, so one of them offered her some pills to try and help.
What had actually happened was she overdosed on them as she tried to take the pain away, and then when we finally got her better and discharged from the hospital, we brought her home and she never left it again.
A roar comes out of me as I blink back the tears that burn in my eyes. I try to remind myself of the positives. Mama is here. She’s okay. She made it.
Anna sits beside me on the plane, her thick thigh brushing against mine, and all I want to do is reach out and touch her so badly.
I want to tell her that I’m sorry and there was nowhere else I wanted to be than with her.
But the look of hatred on her face has me keeping my hands and words to myself.
“I don’t want to speak to you.” Her words sliced my skin, sharper than any blade ever could.
“I don’t want you to speak to me.” Another cut, deeper this time.
“We are going to fly home and go our separate ways.” Knowing I had lost the only woman I ever felt this way for was the final blow.
I open my mouth to say something, anything to make her believe me.
But she’s right. I hurt her. I’m the problem. I don’t deserve her.
Physically and emotionally exhausted from my memory-laden shower, I turn off the water, ready to get in bed and try to sleep off the pain that has crept up in my chest. As I step out of the bathroom, a figure stands in front of my bed.
I jump back but then see it’s the curvy goddess I’m head over heels for.
I listen to her confession, holding my breath the entire time she tells me what I’ve longed to hear.
She loves me.
“Fucking finally,” I say and take pleasure in the gasp that sounds from perfect lips as I rush to her, palming the back of her neck and crashing my lips to hers in a fierce, fiery passion. It’s not enough. I need more of her. I need all of her. And I need it right fucking now.
I tug off the tease of a top that has showcased her perfect tits.
I ought to give her a whipping for wearing that out in public and allowing eyes other than mine to linger at her beautiful display.
I snap her bra off so fast that teenage me would be hooting and hollering with applause if he were here to witness it.
Her plush lips feel so good against mine, but I rip them away so I can suck her nipple into my mouth.
She writhes and moans against me as my tongue flicks over the bud, bringing it to a hardened point.
I pull back to blow a cool breath over it and a shudder runs through her.
God, I love how responsive she is to my touch.
I repeat the motion with her other breast, making sure I give them both the equal attention they deserve.
“More, Keaton. More, please.” A growl escapes me as I swap our positions. I move her over the bed, pushing her back until her front side is flat against it, then I lean down to her ear. “More?” I ask. “What do you want more of, Baby?”
“You, please,” she whimpers and I’m about to explode from the sound alone.
“Where do you want more of me?” Teasing her may be my new favorite thing to do with this woman that drives me absolutely crazy with need and desire.
“I…” she stammers and it’s the cutest fucking thing. “I want you in my pussy, Keaton. Please.”
Sliding her jeans down her legs, I notice she upgraded her panties tonight from her white cotton briefs to a lacy, black thong. I run my finger up and down the scrap of fabric making her squirm. “Beg me, Baby.”
She groans at my demand. “Please, Keaton. Please touch my pussy.”
Pulling her panties down and off her, I bring them to my nose and inhale her intoxicating scent. “That’s strange. This doesn’t smell like your pussy, Anna.”
“What?” she shrieks. “Those are mine. You just fucking pulled them off me. What are you talking about?”
I take the flimsy fabric, soaked in her arousal, and bring it to her nose. “Breathe that in, Anna. Does that smell like your pussy?” I trace my fingers around her, faintly brushing where she wants me, but not giving in just yet.
“It’s mine, Keaton. Those are mine.” Her voice is crying out and she’s trying to lift herself off the bed, but we can’t have that. I crack my palm against her ass, taking in the beautiful shade of red that blooms across her cheek.
“Stop lying to me, Anna. That doesn’t smell like your pussy at all.” I lean over her, allowing her to feel my hard cock underneath the towel that’s failing to conceal how I feel about this gorgeous woman.
I reach down and use my fingers to spread her lower lips apart. “This doesn’t look like your pussy, either, Anna.”
She trembles and I can feel her cunt pulse against my fingers. I swipe one of them inside of her, collecting the arousal that’s dripping from her. Sucking the taste off my lips, I hum. “It doesn’t even taste like your pussy.”
“Keaton, please,” she whines and I get a sick pleasure from the torment I’m putting her through.
“You gave that beautiful speech and have already forgotten what you said.”
“What are you talking about? Please. Please Keaton, I need you.”
“I believe the words you said were ‘I’m yours.’ So, let’s try this again. Where do you want me?”
“My pussy,” she repeats, and I slap my palm against her left cheek this time, causing her to cry out beautifully. “Your pussy. Yours. It’s yours. Please touch your pussy, Keaton. Please, it’s yours.”
“Fucking right it is,” I mutter, spreading her legs apart and lifting them at her thighs so I can explore what’s mine.
Her tangy taste floods my mouth and I can’t get enough.
I chase her wetness with my tongue, then insert a finger inside before slipping in another.
She clenches around me so tight I could explode right fucking now, but I won’t allow myself that particular pleasure until I’m balls deep inside her.
I’m relentless, pumping my fingers in and out of her as my tongue swirls around her clit. I can feel how close she’s getting, and I want at least one orgasm from her before I sink my cock inside this delicious cunt.
I take my time licking over her clit before sucking it into my mouth, refusing to stop until she’s a complete mess.
I push a third finger into her, and she comes undone.
“Fuck, Keaton, yes. Yes!” My girl isn’t quiet as she rides through her orgasm and I fucking love it.
Scream the house down, Baby. Wake the whole fucking neighborhood.
Let the whole world know that you belong to me.
When her breathing begins to regulate and she finally begins to settle against me, I pull my fingers from her, sucking her sweet taste off each one. Her eyes track my movements, and I smirk at her, knowing she loves every dirty action I make. “Tell me what you want now, Wife.”
A sexy smile blooms on her face. “I want you to fuck me, Husband.”