Chapter 23
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
Hartley
“What happened to your hand?” I ask Brooks as we watch Pigasso root around his enclosure.
“Peeling an apple, of all things. I need to come up with a better story, though. One that sounds more badass.”
I grin as the cool evening air blows through the fields.
I’ve never been an anxious person, figuring that I can solve problems as they come at me, but today, I feel more at peace than ever. And the fact that it’s because Mira is in our house, getting herself settled and chatting with Cathy, is wild as hell.
“Thank you for walking her down the aisle,” I say, picking at a piece of wood peeling off the rail. “I don’t know what made you think of that, and it makes me feel like an asshole that I didn’t.”
“That’s why you have me around. To think of all the things that you miss.”
I snort, the sound fading into a chuckle. “Okay.”
“I just got to thinking about things, you know? Her dad did me a solid once, so I thought I might be able to pay him back in a small way. That’s all.”
“For the first time in your life, I think you’re underestimating yourself.”
He laughs, pushing away from the fence.
We walk down the dirt road toward my house, both of us lost in our thoughts. I’ve often wondered what that’s like for Brooks. What goes on in his head when it’s just him listening? I kind of imagine it as a cartoon from the eighties where someone chases the other around with a baseball bat.
“Did you hear about Audrey’s brother?” he asks, fighting a grin.
But I can read Brooks like a book. I may not always understand what I read, but I know the story's angle. And this grin? He’s up to something … and he’s amused by it.
That’s never, ever good.
“What happened to him?” I ask.
“I guess he was arrested a few hours ago.” He shrugs, trying to appear casual. What it really means is I know exactly why.
“Why?”
“Fuck if I know.”
I groan. “Just tell me.”
“Turns out the motherfucker was betting while he was fighting, which is a big no-no,” Brooks says with a smile.
“He was also involved with bribery scandals and other shit. But you get the picture.” He looks at me over his shoulder.
“This is all alleged, of course.” He laughs. “No, it’s not. He did it. All of it.”
My mind goes to sweet Audrey. She’s one of the kindest people—truly good to her bones—and I hate the thought of her hurting because her brother is an ass.
“How’s Audrey taking this?” I ask.
“She’s okay. We sat down a few weeks ago, and I told her some things that she needed to know. I think that shocked her more than him getting arrested.”
I narrow my eyes at him. He’s too happy about this. “Did you have anything to do with him getting arrested?”
We stop in front of the porch steps, and I rest my arm on the railing. Cathy’s garden has been replanted while I was gone. And someone, probably Bobby, cleaned up a pile of wood that was tossed against the barn.
It all ran fine without me.
I grin.
“I wouldn’t say I had anything to do with it,” Brooks says. “I just told a few people the truth about a few things, and voilà! The trash took itself out.”
“Nice.” I pat his shoulder. “It’s been good talking to you, man, but my wife’s inside and I need to check on her.”
He laughs, shooing me away. “Go. Enjoy. I’ll talk to you later.”
I take off my boots and set them beside the door before I walk through it. The house smells like cinnamon and apples, a scent my mother loved and I’ve never changed. Maybe it’s time to do that.
The thought twists my heart, yet it feels right.
“Hey,” Mira says, smiling brightly at me. “Your washing machine is royally screwed. Are you aware of that?”
I pull her into me and give her a kiss before answering. “Yes, I do know that. Cathy’s been on my ass about it for months.”
“Is there a reason you didn’t replace it?”
“Yup. I didn’t know which one to get. I was waiting on you to pick it out.”
She laughs, leading me down the hall. “We’re already married, Charmer. Save your lines for our first fight.”
“Oh, I’m never fighting with you. You can always be right.” I strip my shirt off and toss it into a hamper. “I need to grab a shower. What did you do this evening?”
She sits on the edge of the bed and sighs. “I put my clothes in your closet …”
I stop unbuckling my pants, lifting my eyes to hers. We never discussed what rules remained after our honeymoon. I was afraid to bring it up. But knowing she chose to stay in here means more to me than I could ever explain to her.
“Is that okay?” Her voice’s a little shaky around the edges.
“Is it okay?” Is she serious? “It’s great. It’ll save me time hauling your shit from one of the other rooms in here later. Where it belongs.”
“It does feel that way a little, huh?”
My jeans fall from my hips. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“It feels like my stuff belongs here.” She says the words carefully, as if she has to taste each one. “I’ve never felt like my stuff belonged anywhere, really. It’s an odd feeling.”
I dump my pants and socks into the hamper and try not to acknowledge that she just shared these feelings with me. If I make a big deal about it, she’ll change the subject, and I want her to feel safe to open up to me about anything with no pressure.
“Want to get in the shower with me?” I ask, stepping out of my boxer briefs.
Her gaze drops to my cock, and a slow smile curves her lips. “Why don’t you come here instead?”
I walk toward her. She scoots off the bed, sitting on her knees. Her shirt is off before I even make it to her.
Fuck me.
Is this real life?
“I lost the shirt in case you want to come on my tits.” She smirks.
My heartbeat speeds up as I reach her, and she reaches for my cock. She’s so beautiful on her knees in front of me—because she wants to be there—with her hair pulled away from her face. I put my fingertip under her chin and lift her eyes to mine.
“What?” she asks, confused.
“I just wanted to look at you.” I smile. “Now have your way with me.”
She laughs, wrapping her hand around the base of my shaft. “I want you to know that I’m soaked right now.” She flicks her tongue around the head, licking off the bead of precum. “My thighs are sticky.”
“I’ll fuck you. Just say the word,” I say, hissing as she sucks the tip past her lips and into her wet, warm mouth. “But dammit, that feels good.”
Her lashes are thick and dark as she looks up at me through them. Seeing her like this, with my cock in her mouth and those big tits waiting to be sucked, is enough to make me blow a load on the spot.
“Where do you want to come?” she asks, licking the head like a popsicle.
“In your pussy, preferably.”
She grins, flicking her tongue against me. “Not this time, but not because I don’t love it. I just want to keep things interesting.”
“Darlin’, I don’t think you have to try too hard to manage that.”
Her laughter vibrates around my dick. I dig my fingers into her hair and guide her head up and down.
“I’ll come down your throat,” I say. “But you have to respond in kind.” I groan as she takes me deeper. “Thinking about my tongue in your pussy while yours is wrapped around my dick is a special form of magic.”
Her spit drips down my shaft, rolling off my balls and onto the floor, so she scoots up to take me in better. With her free hand, she cups my balls, which tighten as my orgasm begins to unfurl.
I thrust into her mouth. Each push is smooth and soft, and coupled with her hand, it’s perfection. Watching her take me in and those tits bounce is my undoing.
“I’m going to come,” I warn as my body begins to shake. “If you don’t want it in your mouth, now’s the time to stop.”
Her eyes darken, almost as a challenge, as her cheeks hollow.
A groan rumbles through my chest as my orgasm spreads through my body. I tense, thrusting harder and deeper into her mouth.
“Mira …” I say, barely able to get the word out through the build of the climax. One final look at her kneeling before me, and that’s it.
I paint the back of her throat with my cum, and she hums as I pump into her mouth, coming harder than I can ever remember. Every muscle in my body tightens as she swallows my seed.
“Dammit, Mira,” I say through clenched teeth. My fingers loosen in her hair, and I ease up, shivering as the last of my orgasm leaves me. “Fuck.”
My cock pops out of her mouth, and she wipes her lips with her discarded shirt.
“Is that what you wanted?” I ask, catching my breath.
“Yup.” She grins salaciously as she crawls onto my bed. She slips off her shorts and panties, spreading her knees apart. “Is this what you want?”
All day. Every day. Forever.
“You, Mira Adler, are what I want. In any way I can get you.”
Her eyes widen, but she recovers quickly. Then a slow smile slips across her cheeks.
“You, husband, can have me any way you want. But I’d really like your face buried in my pussy right now.”
It’s a good thing I didn’t get around to turning the shower on. Because it’s going to be a long damn time before I get there.