Chapter 20
TWENTY
Deacon
By the time we get back in the Urus after dropping Paul at the Puck Pad, and I’m latching Savannah’s car seat into the base, she slides into the passenger seat. I like this too much.
When I get in, she runs her hand along the center console like she’s reading it. “So, what exactly is this thing capable of?”
I smile because she sounds impressed, and it may be pathetic, but I like the way that question feels. “Six hundred and forty-one horsepower. It handles like a supercar. Looks like a bully in traffic, but it floats.”
“That is ridiculous.” She laughs softly, eyes bright. “In a good way.”
“It is ridiculous,” I agree, “but she deserves it.”
“She?” She arches a brow.
I nod. “She. The Urus is definitely a she.”
She laughs again, soft and warm. “And did she come with the exact base for Savannah’s car seat?”
Ah. There it is. The question that, if answered honestly, wouldn’t just scare her, but might push her away.
I shake my head slowly and decide I will not have lies between us. “That was me. Feeling stuff, I have never felt and failing at holding back, so I don’t scare you away.”
She lifts her chin. “I don’t scare easily, Deacon. But I’m not…”
“Wasn’t expecting this either. But that’s the tell, isn’t it?”
She rests her head back against the seat and looks out the window, and silence settles in. Not the brittle kind. Not the kind that says, “Back off.” The kind that sinks into the car like warm air, giving breath to everything that was just said.
It hits me all at once. The honesty. The trust. The fact that she did not try to redirect, correct, or deny.
I turn onto Old Fulton Street, the one that curves under the Brooklyn Bridge, where the River Café lights shimmer against the water.
The moment feels too big to let pass, so I ease the Urus to the curb. Smooth. Controlled. A gentle stop.
She straightens a little. “Are we okay…?”
“Get out,” I say quietly.
Her brows lift. “What?”
“You’re driving.”
Her hesitation lasts half a second. Maybe less. Then she unbuckles and opens the door.
That hits me harder than anything she has said or left unspoken. I get out too, walk around the hood, and she is already sliding into the driver’s seat. Confident. Calm. Not a flicker of fear on her face.
A growl slips out before I even think. “You have no idea what that strength does to me. That confidence. That fire, Claudia, it is unreal.”
She looks up at me like she hears every word loud and clear. So, I lean down and kiss her. Not rushed. Not needy. Not an ending. Just a slow, sure press of my mouth to hers that tells her this pull is very quickly becoming too hard to deny.
She kisses back with the same steady confidence she does everything else, and for a second, with the bridge humming above us and the river behind us, I am absolutely gone for her.
We break just enough to breathe, my forehead pressed to hers, “Anyone ever tell you how incred—” She cuts me off.
“Nope,” she smiles as she pulls back, adjusts the mirrors, checks on Savannah, and then pulls into the lane with the same control I saw in her eyes a minute ago.
I watch her, completely undone.
“You learn to drive in a city?”
“My psych program was in Palo Alto. You do not survive California traffic unless you know how to thread a needle with a bumper. And before that, I rebuilt my first car. Old thing. 2001 Civic. Barely held together.” She smiles. “Taught me patience.”
I turn fully toward her. “You rebuilt a car.”
“Well, someone had to. The foster family I lived with that year had three kids already, and I needed wheels. I needed a way to get to school. So. Yeah, I rebuilt it.”
I stare at her, completely wrecked in the best way. That is it. That is the moment. Right here, under the Brooklyn Bridge, in the passenger seat of my own car, watching her drive. This is the second I fall for her. Hard. No going back. And the crazy part is…She drives like she already knows.
As she turns down Koa’s road, I shoot him a quick message that we are close.
When we pull into the driveway, one of the garage doors lifts.
“Pull right in there,” I nod.
She gives me a look. “Into Koa’s garage?”
“Koa and Nalani’s, yeah. I am leaving it here while I am out of town. The garage I lease from does not have the space I want until next month. Koa offered this up.”
She eases the Urus into the bay as if she were born driving this car.
The interior lights flick on, and Koa steps out into the garage, arms crossed, smirk already loaded.
He whistles low. “Well, look at that. Claudia is in the driver’s seat of your expensive midlife crisis.”
I try not to smile and fail. “It is not a midlife crisis.”
“Huh.” He walks around to the front, eyeing the matte black paint. “Had to be Italian. You could not just buy a normal SUV like the rest of us mortals.”
Before I can fire something back, Claudia is out of the car with Savannah in her arms, tucking her into her shoulder.
Koa’s expression softens instantly. “Hey, little one.” He grins at Claudia. “Nalani is inside. Kitchen. Surrounded by stuff.”
“Stuff?” Claudia asks.
“Photos. So many photos.”
Claudia smiles. “Good. I will go help her sort.”
She heads inside, Savannah curled against her, and I watch her go for a second too long.
Koa nudges me. “You....”
I sway the conversation from where he’s trying to lead it. “Dreading sitting on my ass in a hotel tomorrow, yeah.”
“So, Paul is good?” Koa asks.
“Good as he can be. The move drained him, then the meeting with the lawyer for the lease.” I run a hand over the back of my neck. “We will need to start the demo next week. He has contractors lined up from the list I gave him.”
“What is the plan for the layout?” Koa opens the back door and jerks his head for me to follow.
Nalani answers from where she’s perched on the massive kitchen island, sitting amongst the photo albums, “First floor will match exactly what Patsy had. Down to the wallpaper if we can find it.” She nods to Claudia, “Her idea.”
Koa nods slowly. “Respect.”
“The second floor will be Claudia’s place. Full renovation. New wiring. New plumbing. All of it.”
“And the upper floors?” I ask.
“The third floor gets two apartments. You and Dash, right?” Nalani asks, and I nod, avoiding eye contact with Claudia. “Fourth becomes storage.”
“And the little apartment stays,” Claudia adds.
I frown. “What little apartment?”
Nalani flips a page. “He wants the little apartment left exactly the way it is. Just in case some other little bird needs somewhere to land.” She mimics Paul’s voice, soft and gravelly. “His words.”
“Good man,” Koa murmurs.
“He collects us,” Nalani says.
We go over contractors, timelines, which walls can come down, and which ones are load-bearing. Half an hour passes before an alarm goes off.
“Okay,” she claps her hands together. “Dash is picking you Bears up in thirty minutes.” She slides off the counter and holds out her hand, “Let’s go get your bags.”
As they leave, Claudia asks, “Yours in the vehicle?” She asks, looking down at Savannah, fast asleep in her little seat.
“Yeah,” I say, trying not to look at her.
She walks past me to the garage, “Let’s go grab it.”
“My bag?” I ask, confused, but when I see her eyes, heat, and mischief mixed, I follow her. “You willing to chance getting caught?”
She turns, smiling as she continues walking backward toward the door. “They’ll be busy.”
I catch up to her easily, “Yeah?”
In the garage, she breaks our kiss and then pushes me against the hood of the vehicle. She’s already got my sweats bunched at the hips, and then, with a swift motion, I should stop, but I’ve wanted her mouth on me for over a year, fuck maybe a lifetime, and I can tell she wants it too.
Before I can process, she’s on her knees and has yanked my pants and boxers down so the hem of my shirt is the only modesty I have left, and even that won’t cover me if they walk out.
My worry about that is gone when she grips me, fingers strong, as she circles me and runs her thumb up the vein.
Her eyes flick up, searching for permission or, maybe more, a dare, and then she smirks and sinks down, enveloping me in a heat so sudden and so perfect that my knees buckle and I have to reach behind me and grip the hood for support.
“I’d rather be inside you than… fuck… fuck Doc, you … fuck.”
I feel the glide of her tongue and the squeeze of her lips, and a mmm that vibrates up through my stomach and into the base of my skull. I try to curse, but it comes out as a whine. I sound like a pussy.
“You’re fucking me so hard in ways I can’t…fuck”
She takes me deeper, her nails digging into my thighs for leverage, and for a second, I think I’m about to black out from brute-force pleasure.
The garage is quiet except for my panting, her low, greedy moans, the wet pop when she pulls back almost to the tip and then plunges down again, never breaking eye contact.
She alternates slow, maddening drags with sudden, messy lunges, slurping and rubbing her cheek against my length like she’s starved for it.
When she reaches up to fondle my balls, I almost come on the spot, but she senses it, backs off, and grins, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, feral and proud.
Then she comes right back, deeper and rougher, and my hands are in her hair without thought, holding on for dear life as she brings me to the edge and then, with a final deep suck, I’m done.
She’s swallowing, making gulping noises, and letting me watch every second of it before she licks me clean and releases me with a satisfied pop.
She stands, wipes her lips, and smiles, “We’re even now.”
I drag her up and pull her in tight, “Doc, we’re nowhere close to even. You’re up by one, and I don’t want this series to end.”
My phone chimes as I’m pulling my pants up and in the process of pulling Claudia back so I can spread her out on the hood of the Lamborghini.
As I fish my phone out of my pocket, she pulls me toward the door.
“Dash will be here in two,” I grumble as I follow her in. She heads to the fridge, and I beeline it to Savannah.
“Don’t you dare wake her up,” she whispers as she opens a bottle of water and takes a drink.
“Gonna be gone for six days,” I squat down and just look at her for a few quiet moments. “See you soon, little one.”
I stay like that until I hear a door shut upstairs. When I stand, my eyes connect with Claudia’s. “Don’t like leaving.”
She looks at me like she wants to say something, but then looks toward the stairs.
“You ready?” Koa asks as he walks over and smiles down at Savannah, “We’re leaving you in charge.”
“We should get going before they end up rolling in here and waking her up.” I walk toward the door, without looking back, because this shit, this leaving, it sucks for the first time ever.”
We climb in, and Dash’s smirk is locked and loaded. Killer has his hoodie up, looking weird, and Faulkner is chill, as per his norm.
Dash chuckles as he looks at Koa, “How’s domestic life?”
“Perfect.”
Killer cackles. “Man did not even try to hide it. Whipped. Leashed. Microchipped.”
Faulkner shakes his head as he looks down at the book he’s reading.
“Glad to see you upright again.” He pats my shoulder dramatically. “How is your head? Still tender?”
Killer grumbles, “Let’s hope not. The new kids doing great. Johnson,” he shakes his head. “He needs to go.”
The whole vehicle, including Joel, Dash’s driver, agrees.
Killer grins. “You think if we do one of those interventions with Coach D, we’ll get her to see the light?”
“If he didn’t get sent down after Montreal when Deacon set his ass straight, and he popped him, he’s not going any time soon,” Faulkner states.
“Deacon was asking for it,” Dash laughs.
“Baited him with a body check,” Killer chuckles.
“Had to happen,” I shrug.