7
Christian
We pulled into the -Eleven next to my house, and Maeve hopped right out of the car like she was a kid at a candy shop. What this woman could possibly need to make me stop was beyond me.
“When I was in college, I used to make my friends stop at -Eleven for cheese puffs and beer,” she responded as I trailed her, watching as her ass moved from side to side as she practically pranced around the store.
“Chelsea and Gianna?” I asked, knowing Tatum had just moved here.
“No. I didn’t know them until we worked at the brunch spot.” She stood flooded with the fluorescent lighting of the place in front of a large array of beer.
Shit, the men from five years ago would be panicking right now. Standing in front of an entire cooler full of beer, I would not have had the self-control to walk away from it. I would have joined Maeve in on her simple, carefree fun and then gone down a path I had no desire to go back. Instead, I’m ten years sober and more capable of knowing my limits. I walked away from Maeve and grabbed a bag of cheese puffs from the snack aisle when she returned with a 40oz beer.
“Want one?” she asked.
“Nah.” Instead, I grabbed an energy drink from the cooler and went to check out.
“You’re not going to drink with me?” she complained. She had no idea I was sober. It wasn’t something I shared often. Very few people knew I was sober.
When Julian rescued me that day in the bar, he saved my life in every single way. I was wrung out and didn’t have a direction. He gave me friendship and a purpose. I will never be a made man by blood, but I would give my blood to him.
“No,” I said quite matter-of-factly and then threw a twenty down before telling the high school kid behind the counter to keep the change.
“Come on, firecracker.” I gestured her outside the shop, where the lights were obnoxiously bright and the music far too cheery.
Maeve happily pranced, yet again, outside and immediately darted right.
“What the—” She had grabbed the bag straight out of my hand, and I chased her when I realized she had plopped herself on the curb on the side of the store.
“What are you doing?” I looked down at her while she stretched out her long legs and opened the 40oz bottle of beer.
“It’s part of the aesthetic.” She gestured to the curb next to her, where there were probably years of layered dog piss. “Come on, fancy-pants.” She stuck out her lower lip like she was pouting, and I was a fucking goner.
“Okay, weirdo.” I plopped next to her just as the crinkle of the cheese puff bag opened, and she shoved them in my lap.
“If you aren’t drinking, at least have one of these.” I looked down, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her I hated eating junk food, too. They reminded me too much of growing up with an addict mother who didn’t have enough money to feed me, except the crap she stole from hotel rooms, or whatever she could get from her pimps.
“Fine.” I grabbed one cheese puff and shoved it in my mouth, crunching extra hard for effect.
“Ugh, you’re making me feel like a loser drinking alone,” she grumbled as she took another swig of her beer while looking out at the back of the parking lot.
“I don’t drink,” I finally confessed after a beat.
“That’s not true. I’ve seen you go out.” She then looked up as if she was racking her brain to remember me drinking.
“I’ve gone out. I just never drink. I’m sober.” I didn’t know why I confessed it. I guess I didn’t want her to feel worse than she already did. Something tugged at my chest, and suddenly, I had no desire to be an asshole to her. She was going through a lot of shit tonight with her ex, and I just wanted to make her feel…comfortable.
“Oh.” As if my words were catching up with her. “I am so sorry.” Her piercing blue eyes, the color of the ocean on a clear day, looked at me like I had just told her the worst news of her life. I could see the tears start to well up, and I needed to fucking fix this fast. I couldn’t watch her cry again. She didn’t deserve it and not from me.
“I’m a horrible human being today. I must be getting my period soon or something. I yelled at you in the bathroom. I just called you a loser for not drinking when you’re a recovering alcoholic.” She looked down at the beer in her hand and then up at my face. Shock laced her features. “I’m throwing this out.” She attempted to get up, but I pulled her down, keeping her seated next to me on the piss-stained curb where she so desperately wanted to sit.
“Stop. If I can stand to be in a club with a bunch of drunk idiots, then I can sit with you as you drink a beer on what’s probably the shittiest night ever.” I offered her a small smile, hoping that would let her relax.
“I just had a bad drinking problem when I got out of the Marines.” Fuck. Why was I telling her this? I didn’t need to confess shit to her. “But really, it’s okay.”
“It's okay not to be okay with it, too.” She stretched out on the curb, letting her long legs out from under her. She grabbed a cheese puff from the bag I was holding and looked up at the sky as it started to turn pink, indicating the sun was setting.
“Who did you come here with? In college, you said earlier?” She looked over at me like my question scared her.
“Tyler was in law school. We were together and had a group of friends we all hung out with. They were his age, so a few years older than me.” She shook her head and laughed, but it wasn’t the same type of laughter that sang melodies in my mind every night. “Once we split, they obviously all decided to stay friends with him, and suddenly, I was left with no one. I realized quickly that all my friends took his side, which was ridiculous since he was the one who cheated on me. I was the doting wife stuck at home.” She fumbled with her fingers, dusting some of the puff off them. But I could see her thoughts spiraling.
“I am so sorry.” I grabbed a cheese puff at the same time she did, and our fingers very gently touched. Both of us immediately looked at each other. No way did she feel the same thing I did when our skin touched. It was a chemical feeling that made me forget about everything else around me. It was dangerous and brought my entire guard down.
“Do you think he’ll come and do something dangerous tonight?,” she hesitantly asked and looked at me, fear distinctly prominent in her blues.
“No. That’s why I’m around, firecracker.” I gave her a little wink, and she playfully shoved me.
“This is fucking disgusting, though. I cannot get over how much dog piss we’re sitting on.” I looked down at the curb. Julian's bougie ways had really started to rub off on me because ten years ago Christian would happily enjoy sitting on a curb drinking a forty with a hot girl. This time, real laughter exploded from Maeve’s little body.
“I guess I never thought of it like that.” She continued to laugh as it echoed.
“Let’s go. You can finish the beer in the car.” I pointed at her snacks and bottle, not giving a fuck about any open bottle law. In my line of work with the Marchetti men, we were always above the law.
Once we got back into the car, I pulled out and continued to drive to the casita where I was staying. When Tatum moved out, I decided to take over her lease since I was staying at Julian’s at the time. It wasn’t far from where Maeve’s guesthouse was.
“You never told me why you call me firecracker?” She looked over at me as I pulled into the driveway in the back and threw the car into park.
I turned to look at her as she slowly licked the cheese off her fingers. She shoved each one in and out of her mouth as she lapped around it, using her tongue so erotically to get the fucking cheese dust off her fingers.
“What are you staring at?” Maeve asked. If this was how good her mouth looked working her fingers, I couldn’t imagine how those pretty pink lips would look wrapped around me while her blond hair fell down her bare back.
“Are you going to somehow scold me for not using a fork on these puffs?” She laughed, but her voice only made me harder. I felt my cock twitch at the mental image of her and quickly shoved that image out of my head. Get your mind back in the game and go inside to get your bag. Let’s get this night over with .
But she just kept doing it with her tongue, darting it in and out of her mouth. The moment she let out a little moan, she looked up and closed her eyes, and I about fucking lost it right there. I could have come in my damn pants watching her dirty little mouth wrapped around her fingers. I grabbed a cheese puff from the bag before popping it into my mouth. My hands were decorated with the same dust she was sucking off.
With her eyes closed and her tongue wrapped around her fingers, I yanked them out of her mouth and shoved my fingers to the back of her throat, making her gag.
A small sensual gasp left her lips, and her eyes opened to look at me. They were hooded, darkening as they locked with mine. I shook my head when I saw her hand reach up to pull my fingers out of her mouth.
“If you’re going to sit there and tease me, then be a good girl and open wide for me,” I demanded, full of dangerous craving.
She very slowly took my fingers into her mouth and parted her lips ever so slightly as she grabbed my wrist. I thrust my fingers deep into her so that her pretty little mouth would be full of me. I watched as she looked down at my black pants, and she saw how fucking hard she made me.
With a tantalizing gesture, she grazed her teeth along the dusty surface, savoring every morsel before delicately consuming it, all while I continued to delve deeper into her mouth with my fingers. There was no music, no ambient noise, absolutely nothing but the small pants she let out occasionally as she sucked my fingers raw.
This was it. This was my responsibility, just like any other task Julian had bestowed upon me. Tonight, my mission was clear—ensure her safety. Yet here I stood, exploiting a vulnerable girl. Withdrawing my fingers, I opened the door, refusing to glance back. If I did, I feared that the desire etched upon her face might weaken my resolve.
We parked at her house, and as I approached, I cast a playful glance back at her as she exited the car. "Don't let your jaw hit the floor, Maeve. It's not a flattering look," I quipped, chuckling to myself as I got out of the car Amid my laughter, her muttered, "Jerk," only served to fuel my amusement.