Chapter 22 #3
She keeps stroking my dick. “I stayed on birth control, just in case, even if I didn’t plan to date.”
“You’ve been it for me for a long damn time. I promise I don’t have anything. Shit—” I’m going to fuck this up just inches from that dripping-wet pussy of hers. “I can find my results or—”
“I believe you.” She lowers herself and rocks her hips. The tip of my erection grazes damp fabric, and I clamp my hands to her thighs. She rocks across the crown again. Blood hammers in my cock. Almost there. “Push my underwear aside, Cruz, so we don’t have to wait any longer.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I yank her panties to the side.
I don’t have to slick my fingers through her wet heat and ready her. We have each been waiting for weeks. She sinks farther, taking me inside her.
“You feel so good,” she whispers.
“You’re fucking velvet.” I grip her ass cheeks to hold myself still and not lift and lower her at a frenzied pace. “Do you have to be anywhere today? I want to keep you on your back and under me until the sun rises.”
“Nowhere.” She rises and slides back down, nearly crossing my damn eyes when she takes me all the way in. “I’ve got all night. Thanks to you.” She pants, her mouth falling open. “I’m going to do more than work now, and a lot more of this.”
I’m going to be inside her every minute possible. Without a barrier, every twitch and clamp of her muscles is more acute. The onslaught of pleasure is like trying to stop a tornado with an umbrella.
“It’s not going to be long,” I say through gritted teeth. I lick my thumb and slide it between us. Her clit is soaked and begging for attention.
“Yes, Cruz.” She rides me faster.
“Come for me. Nice and hard.” I can barely hold myself away from my peak. My muscles are straining, but I won’t come until she does.
“Yeah,” she whimpers and her rhythm is erratic. “Oh god, yes!”
She drops her head back and rolls her hips once, twice, then she shudders and collapses over me. I can finally release. The energy inside me unleashes. I buck up into her willing heat and explode into the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had.
Elodie
Cruz covers us with blankets and lies down beside me on his bed.
My hair is wet, spread out behind me on a towel.
His warm citrus scent surrounds us, and I’m boneless.
Utterly melted. We enjoyed his massive shower, giving his water heater a workout until me screaming Cruz’s name bounced off the walls.
I’m fully in love with the man, and I’m developing an obsession with his house. The bed is comfortable, the kitchen is a dream, and his living area is homey when he’s not obsessive about cleaning.
“This bed is so soft.” I snuggle deeper into it.
“You look damn good naked in it.”
I smile. “What a coincidence, so do you.”
It’s quiet here. Huckleberry Springs is a mellow town at night, but there are still cars and trucks.
After Bootleg closes, it gets loud again with customers going home.
The bakery is in an older building. Cruz’s house is new and secure.
Cozy. We’re in a little cocoon just for us, and I can finally talk to him about anything or everything.
“I called Damon.” Even in the silence between us, my voice isn’t loud. “I was going to inform him that he’s not getting a dime from me and to go ahead and tell the world. He thought I was hounding him for the money he’s going to pay back.” A small giggle slips out. “Should I feel bad?”
The blankets rustle as he moves closer. “You didn’t know when you called him?”
“No, but I missed you, and I was sick of how I was living. I called him after I invited Clem and my parents to the bakery. I told them. Everything. Including the blackmail. Though I didn’t tell them about your dad, and I didn’t share your history.”
He tenses only briefly. “How’d they take it?”
“Worried. Mom blamed herself and I asked her not to. I blamed myself enough for everyone. I know you’re going to be shocked, but they didn’t crumble from the stress.”
His grin is big enough to see in the dark.
“Clem tried to play it cool,” I continue, “and she was concerned and righteously angry, but I think she was taking notes and getting plot bunnies, or whatever she calls them, for her stories.”
He laughs and tangles his fingers through mine. Ever since I arrived, he hasn’t quit touching me. “What if word spreads?”
“I don’t care. I’ll open another business, or get a job at the café, and actually get weekends off once in a while. But I think it’s time I hire another baker.”
“No shit?”
“A full-time one at that. Like I said, it’s because of you I have the funds and the time. That cookie dough fundraiser idea has legs. And if Damon and Dwayne really pay me back? That’ll go a long way.”
“Good.” He lifts my hand to kiss my fingers.
Everything he did made my life better. I’m closer to my parents and Clem, I won’t be working every waking minute, and I might get an influx of funds. But what did it cost him? “Is everything done with your dad? Are you really okay after seeing him?”
His soft exhale tickles the skin of my hand. “Yeah, I’m okay. It was like taking a pressure bandage off. I don’t have this . . . restlessness . . . when I think of him, like he’s waiting in the shadows to ditch me for a lunch date again. Or that he only wanted to tell me what a loser I am.”
“Did he do that when you were younger?” I’ll never forgive myself for driving Cruz to speaking to his dad again if that’s the case. I don’t know how I’ll make it up to him.
“No, but he was always pushing me and Lane to do more and be more. If I lost a fight, he’d coach me on how to win it. When I said I’d be late for work, he said it was a shit job anyway. That kind of stuff. If we were gonna be bad, we’d better be good at it.”
“If he’s not proud of you now, then he’s not worth another second of your time.” I’ve got enough for everyone.
“I owe him some of my time. It’s part of the deal.”
Fear strikes through me, and I prop myself up. “What? No, not for me.”
He gives me a kiss. “Relax, sugar. I just have to answer the phone when he calls—if I’m able. He gave me freedom for that.”
Anxiety curls through my stomach. “Cruz, if he’s trying to control you—”
“No, Elodie. He won’t. He can’t. He knows it, but he’s used to bargaining. It’s his life, and it’ll be ours dealing with him. He’s always going to test our limits. It’s fun for him, especially when his boys prove stronger.”
That’s a warped father-son relationship, but it could be worse. I wiggle closer to Cruz. “I can’t believe you did that for me.”
“I have to name my first kid after him,” he says abruptly.
I shoot up to a sitting position. “What?”
He’s not laughing. Is he even smiling? Oh god. He’s not kidding.
“It’s okay.” He tugs me back down and gives me a quick kiss. “I said it’d be a middle name.”
“You really are serious.”
“Mom never gave us Dad’s name, and that’s always bugged him. This is the only way he feels like he can live on.”
I root around my brain for a quick fact. “Sy Lawson? That’s what Damon called him.”
“Sylvester Lawson.”
“A strong name.” An image of a dark-haired little boy or girl pops into my mind. “Lawson’s a cool name.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Assuming, you know, you want kids.” I do not sound casual.
“I’d like kids. If the right woman wanted to have them with me.”
I suck in a breath through my teeth. “Ooh, she might be hard to find.”
“Or . . . she might be right here.”
My heart stops. Is he proposing?
“When I ask you to marry me,” he says like he’s reading my mind, “it’ll be with a ring and more romance than lying in bed after a sex-fest. But it’s going to be you that I ask.”
Giddiness fills me. He wants to be with me. The man who’s seen me at my worst and at my frumpiest wants to spend his life with me. “Okay. Until then, I’ll figure out the answer.”
“Do you want kids?” His question is hesitant.
“Do I want a Lawson Foster?” Using our connected hands, I pull him on top of me. The towel for my hair falls to the floor, and he nestles between my legs, keeping his weight off me. “You gotta admit—has a nice ring to it.”
“It does. Sylvester Foster?”
I laugh. “Sylvie Foster?”
“Damn, sugar. That’s a good one.” His erection nudges against my leg. If I shifted, he could slide inside, but I don’t. Our conversation sounds lighthearted, but it’s serious. We’re working out our future.
“Both are very good names,” I say softly. “How do we decide?”
“I don’t know.” He lines kisses along my jaw and down my neck. “Maybe we have to have more than one.”
“Assuming I say yes.”
“And that’s after I propose.” He drags his mouth back up to nibble at my ear.
Shivers race across my body. How can I be ready to go again? “Of course.”
“I think you should move in with me.”
Pure happiness fills me full enough to float away. Yesterday, my world was spinning out of control and I was at the end of my rope. “Are you going to ask me that someday too?”
He touches his lips to mine. “I’m asking now. Want to move in? I have a big closet.” He scoots down and takes my nipple into his mouth.
I arch into him. “How do you know I won’t use you for your big . . . closet?”
He flicks his tongue across my sensitive skin and smiles against me when I grind into him. “I have a lot of big things you can use me for.”
“I’m going to have to think hard about it.”
He switches to the other side and slides his hand between us. I hiss when his fingertip hits my clit. Just as I think my pussy can’t take more, pleasure carries me away.
“Okay,” I gasp as he notches the broad tip of his cock at my entrance. “I’ll move in.”
He thrusts in and out, his hips pumping underneath the blankets. “Go ahead and think about that longer. I’m going to take my time convincing you.”