Chapter Twenty-Four
Misty
Zep shows up with a bottle of wine in one hand and sparkling grape juice in the other. I haven’t told Bernie he’s here for dinner yet. Part of me couldn’t help but worry he’d back out, and I didn’t want to disappoint her.
Or me.
“Zep!” Bernie calls, scrambling to her feet from the couch and running to hug his legs. “My hair still looks so cool.”
She does a small twirl in front of him, and he winks at her. “The coolest. Better than Sierra’s hair, that’s for sure.”
“Yeah! Are you here for dinner?”
He frowns and looks up at me. “I thought so.”
“Sorry, baby, I thought I mentioned it,” I lie. A lie I can tell he sees right through.
“You can sit next to me!” Bernie says, pulling him into the kitchen.
At least I have three place settings, so he can’t get too upset with me, right? “What do you have there?” I ask.
“Beverages. Adult and Bernie versions. Thought this was a celebration, but—”
“Celebration? For what?” Bernie asks. “Is it your birthday? Did we forget? Hang on, and I’ll make you a card.”
Zep swoops Bernie into his arms when she tries to run past him. “It’s not my birthday, kiddo.”
Her body physically relaxes, and then she bursts into giggles as he swings her around like she weighs nothing. “Then what are we celebrating? Stop! Stop, that tickles!”
Leaning on the counter, I just watch and take it all in. I still can’t figure out how her father can voluntarily miss this. Zep treats her more like a daughter than her father ever has, and I just want to cry.
Instead, I smile and walk over to them. “Bernie, there’s something Zep and I need to tell you,” I say, moving over to him as he sets her down and wraps my arm around his waist.
Why is my heart racing like this? I might vomit, and I hate that I have this reaction. It’s pure fear even though I’m pretty sure Zep won’t walk away from us.
But I’m not one hundred percent positive.
“Are you getting married?” Bernie asks, her eyes wide with her eyebrows standing above her glasses like two little caterpillars.
“No,” I say, just a little too fast. “We’re dating. Zep’s my boyfriend.”
“Do you want us to get married?” Zep asks.
How the hell is he so cool about this right now? Oh, right. This isn’t his kid. He doesn’t have to deal with the fallout when someone she gets attached to breaks her heart while mending his own.
“Yes!”
“Maybe one day,” he says. “It’s still a little early. Your mama’s about to hyperventilate, so we should maybe sit down. I can bring the food to the table.”
“No, I’m okay—”
“Sit,” he orders.
God, his dominance is hot. Which has me a bit conflicted because I don’t like being told what to do. Except by him.
“Yes, sir.”
He winks, and I melt. We’re really doing this. It’s real. It’s happening.
“Mommy?” Bernie whispers, walking over to the chair I’ve at least managed to sit in gracefully.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I’m happy about this.”
And there goes that panic rising again. “You are?”
“He makes you happy. You like to fight with him. And he has kitties. Plus, he’s my best friend.”
So much at stake. Damn it.
“I’m glad you’re happy, baby.”
“Are you happy?”
I was. “I am.”
All worry disappears when Zep walks over wearing my apron over his leather kutte and oven mitts on his hands. He really knows how to lighten a mood.
Maybe this isn’t going to be a disaster. Maybe, just maybe, this can work.
Bernie’s already in bed when I join Zep on the couch. He holds out his arm, and I snuggle into his side. This feels so… normal.
“What’s going on in there?” Zep asks, tapping his finger gently on the top of my head.
“It’s just… very real now.”
“Still scared?”
Swallowing, I tilt my head up to look into his eyes. “Terrified.”
“Misty—”
“Bernie says you’re her best friend, Zep. Promise me that even if things don’t work out between us that you’ll still be there for her.”
He pulls me onto his lap and cups my face. “I don’t plan on leaving either of you.”
“You say that now, but—”
“Baby, I need you to lower that fence you have around your heart just a little bit more. There’s nowhere I’d rather be and no other family I’d rather be a part of.”
I want to believe him. I do. And part of me does. But then I remember Chanel standing out in his yard wrapped in his bedsheet not that long ago. The woman Zep took a beating for.
“I don’t want her,” he whispers, his eyes locked on mine. “Nothing she has to offer holds a candle to what I get with you and Bernie.”
“Which is? Because I have to be honest, Zep, no man has ever wanted to stay before. Not for the long term.”
His tongue slides over his lower lip. “First, this family comes with a woman who gives surprise blowjobs in the bathroom at a bar to distract me. And who I can’t stop thinking about moaning my name when she finally stops being bossy and lets me take charge.”
“Is that right?” I ask, my breathing becoming shallow as I think about how much I enjoy those things, too.
“And she comes with a daughter I’d jump in front of a train for before ever letting her get hurt.”
I can’t take it any longer. I need to taste him. My lips crash onto his, and he holds me tightly as he deepens the kiss. I’m so head over heels for this man that I’m willing to do almost anything. Like lowering my guard enough to fully let him into my heart.
“Do you want me to go?” he whispers.
The bulge pressing against my core tells me leaving is the last thing he wants to do, and I shake my head. “My bedroom is that way. But we can’t be as loud as we’re used to. I’m not looking to have the birds and bees talk with Bernie before I have to.”
Standing, he keeps me in his arms and carries me down the hallway off the kitchen to my bedroom. He sets me down and gazes at me with a look so intense that I think my clothes could actually burst into flames.
It’s hot. Really hot. And I squirm under his gaze.
“What?” I ask breathlessly.
“I just can’t believe you’re mine.”
Yep, my clothes should be melting any moment now. I don’t remember feeling this hot.
He takes his time undressing me. First, he pulls my shirt over my head and places it onto the chair in the corner.
Then, he unbuttons my jeans and slides them off, placing them on my shirt.
My bra is next, and he gently kisses each breast, sucking only a moment on each nipple before tossing it onto the pile he’s created.
And when he gets to my panties, my body screams for his touch. His mouth. His fingers. All of him. Except, he pulls my panties down so slowly that I can’t tell if he’s trying to torture me or cherish me. But eventually, I’m naked and bare while he’s still fully clothed.
“Well, this won’t do,” I say, my voice husky as I stand up in front of him.
Zep’s eyes never leave me as I gently push his leather off his shoulders and set it on my clothes. He has to help me with his shirt because he’s a bit too tall, and he bends down to take off his boots himself.
Hearing his footsteps when he walks, I can tell they’re heavy. Probably too heavy to take off in any way that remotely resembles sexy.
He stands back up, and I reach for his jeans.
Now I understand what he was doing. He was admiring me the same way I’m doing to him.
His ripped abs. Large biceps. Even his shoulders have muscles.
And don’t get me started on his back. I’ve never seen such defined back muscles, and they’re surprisingly sexy.
His stomach sucks in when I unbutton his jeans, and sliding them down his thick, muscular thighs makes him gasp. Especially when I do us both a favor and take his boxers with them.
Stepping out of his jeans, Zep climbs onto the bed and lies down, his hand reaching out for me. I can’t get over this man in my bed. Everything he says is what I’ve wanted for so long, and I need to take the chance. I need to believe him.
I climb onto the bed with him, and he says, “Misty, I need—”
Now is not the time for talking, so I cut him off by moving to take his cock into my mouth. His lips form an O as I give him what I know he likes. And seeing him like this is one of my favorite versions of Zep.
He never asks for this, and I suspect he’s been turned down more than once by the woman he loved. All I want is to give him everything he’s ever wanted. To show him he’s worth more than just giving pleasure to a selfish woman.
“Oh fuck, baby,” he moans.
His fingers massage my scalp when I hollow out my cheeks and suck. It causes his ass to lift off the bed slightly, and I feel in control. His pleasure is fully dependent on me right now.
“Not like this,” he says between pants. “I don’t want to come in your mouth.”
It ruins my plan—and my fun—but I release him. “I was more than happy to let you.”
“I know,” he whispers and pulls me up his body. “That’s what makes you so fucking special.”
“I’m special, huh?”
Positioning me over his cock, he smiles up at me with a delirious look. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Misty, and I don’t think I ever will again. You’re a walking contradiction, and I love it.”
He loves it. Not me, but it.
I’ll take it.
“Same, Zep.”
I lower onto him, and I moan as he fills me. Stretches me. Nothing and no one has ever felt as good as he does.
“Best view in the house,” he says and cups my breasts, roughly massaging them and tugging on my nipples.
Biting my lower lip, I grind against him, giving my clit the friction it needs. It still amazes me how quickly I find my climax with this man. Even on my own—knowing exactly what and how I like it—I don’t come this quickly.
Maybe it’s his ability to always make me come during sex. Or maybe it’s how he looks at me like he just found the most precious gem in the world. No one has ever looked at me like that before, and I never want him to stop.
Sure, men have told me I’m beautiful. Or they say I’m sexy. And naked, I get more than an appreciative look, but Zep is different. It’s almost… amazement. Awe.
“Zep,” I moan, careful not to be too loud as I come hard around him.
He pulls me down to his chest and kisses me, his arms around my back, strong and steady. Digging his heels into the mattress, he takes over and works hard and fast into me, rubbing my already over-sensitized clit while hitting all the right spots inside.
Our lips never separate, our tongues tangling, and another orgasm rips through me. He swallows the sound before growling and finding his own release. Three long pumps inside before stilling. I know he’s done. Spent.
“I don’t think that was too loud,” he whispers into my ear, his arms still tightly wrapped around me as my body relaxes on him.
“No, I think we’re good,” I say, my head resting on his shoulder.
The words are right there. I love you, Zep.
I want to shout them, but then the crippling fear kicks in. It’s too early. He’s just settling in with us. I don’t want to risk pushing him away by getting too serious too fast. Watching him run would break me more than I can fathom.
Instead, I just let him hold me for as long as he wants before cleaning up. God, it’s nice being held. And no matter what happens, I know he’ll always protect Bernie and me.
It’s the first time in a long time that I’m not in fight mode. Surviving. Being the strong one to make sure my daughter’s taken care of before even thinking about myself. It almost feels selfish to be here right now.
No wonder I’m in love. Zep makes me feel like I’m not alone anymore.
God, I’m so screwed.