Chapter 23 Alice
ALICE
Dinner is quiet tonight.
Leo looks at the sautéed kale like it’s raw gator meat, but when he sees Lia noshing on it, he gives it a try. After chewing and chewing and chewing, I see him slip the whole bite into a napkin, but I know he’s not insulting my cooking.
Zoey chatters away happily about the origami project. She and Lia are making a string of paper cranes that they plan to hang with a strand of fairy lights to create a “magical backyard girl crew garden” or something like that.
I love that Lia seems completely content to hang out and work on crafts. I don’t know what the girl’s dreams or plans for her future are, but she’s a great influence on Zoey. Sweet, good-natured, and great manners.
I wonder how she and Tiny will be over time.
I think about Zoey growing up without a dad for so long, and then having Jerry as the male influence in her life.
She’s going to need a lot of Morris and Leo time to undo the damage Jerry’s done.
Even just a few days away from Jerry’s rules and temper seem to have made my little princess a lot more open, less restrained. Less shy.
A few days away from Jerry have done the same for me. I still don’t have money, a job, or a plan, but something has changed for me. I’m different.
I watch the people eating around the table, the delicious smells of my chicken stir-fry still filling the kitchen. Lia’s dogs have eaten their herbal smoothie doggie dinners and are lazing on the kitchen floor near the back door.
I clear the dishes from the table, excusing everyone else to go get comfortable and relax while I clean.
Only Morris stays behind.
He watches me while I wash the dishes, the hot soapy water relaxing my hands and giving my mind something familiar to focus on. I know Jerry isn’t gone. I haven’t fully put the nightmare behind me. But tonight, I can dream of something more.
People I love around me.
Work I care about.
A place to live filled with laughter.
The past in the rearview.
A life I choose.
After I tuck Zoey in, I take a shower to wash the pains of the day away, then climb into bed beside Morris.
“I love everybody in this house.”
“You love everybody under this roof, huh?” Morris is shirtless and wearing sleep pants. His feet are bare, and he’s on top of the covers. He’s wearing a pair of reading glasses, and he’s looking at something on his phone.
“Yeah, Professor, I do,” I say, tapping the stem of his glasses. “You look hot in these. Sexy.”
“Necessity,” he explains. “The perils of being an old man. But I love the compliment, sweetheart.”
“What are the perils of being an old lady?” I ask. “Specifically, your old lady?”
Morris gives me a smile and pulls the glasses from his face. “I don’t know about perils, but there are definitely some perks.”
“Really?” I ask. “Like…?”
Morris sets his phone on the bedside table and looks me over. His expression is wicked, teasing. A dimple blooms in the corner of his cheek when he gives me that naughty, seductive smile, and I want to lick my way from the scruff on his neck until I can taste that sweet spot on his cheek.
“Happy to show you,” he says. He touches my chin with a finger and draws me close to his face.
Once his lips touch mine, the flirtation falls away and I cling to him. I want to lose this shitty day, bury it in the pleasure of Morris’s touch. I want to feel every hard angle and plane of his body beneath me, feel the bite of his teeth tearing deliciously against the flesh of my thighs.
“Morris,” I whisper. “I want you so badly. It almost scares me. This hunger. It’s like I’ll never be satisfied.”
“I love a hungry woman,” he growls. “As long as the only meal you ever need is right here.” He points to himself, his hand motioning toward his already-hard cock.
“And here,” I add, taking his hand from his dick and moving it toward his heart. “I want both. And more. This,” I say and lean forward to kiss his forehead. “And here.” I kiss his neck.
I work my way down his body, kissing the planes of his smooth chest, the contours of his sculpted abs. His cock bobs invitingly under his pajamas, and I kiss closer and closer until finally my mouth is over his dick, and I’m breathing hot kisses through his pants.
“Fuck, woman,” he hisses, clenching the covers with his hands. “The things you do with that mouth.”
“The things I will do,” I correct. I slide two fingers under the waistband of his pants and shift them down just far enough that his cock springs free. He groans, and I hold the pants out of the way with my hand, leaving them on, but paying lavish attention to his generous length.
I plant featherlight kisses on the shaft and puff out hot little breaths as I work up his anticipation for the heat of my mouth.
When the tip is weeping and his chest is rising and falling in erratic breaths, I sink my lips onto his cock, drawing the length of him into my mouth with a firm, deep suck.
He gasps but then quickly relaxes, his face composed, but his lower lip clamped between his teeth.
“Alice,” he grinds out.
But I hold up a finger to shush him. I want this to be about him.
He’s done so much for me, and I’m sure if last night was any indication, I’ll wake up in the middle of the night to a sweet surprise and a flood of orgasms. But right now, I want to take care of him.
I want to taste him, feel him, explore his body and everything that makes him feel good.
I want to treat my old man like a true old lady would. Pleasing him. Loving him.
I move to kneel over his legs and get into a better position to hold his dick in my hand and suck him in, when all of a sudden, both of our phones start to chirp.
“What’s that?” I wonder, lifting my head up.
“Ignore it,” he mumbles, not even opening his eyes.
But the sound is insistent, and it’s coming from both of our phones. “Morris, something isn’t right.” I reach over and pull the waistband of his pants to cover his cock, and I turn to find the pink glitter phone Lia gave me earlier.
The moment broken, Morris’s brow furrows as he grabs his phone too. “What the fuck is this?” he mutters. “I have never heard this noise before.”
“It’s an app notification,” I say, swiping at the home screen to bring up all the recent notifications. But I don’t have to struggle to figure it out. I hear a set of pounding footsteps on the stairs and the sound of a door opening.
“Morris?”
“Alice!”
Leo and Lia are both at the door, knocking and calling our names.
“Come in,” I call, and Morris tosses a pillow over his lap to hide his arousal.
Leo shoves open the door. His face is white, and Lia is holding her phone out to us to see.
“The cameras,” she explains. “Something set off the motion sensors. There’s a picture.”
So, that’s what it is. The motion sensor doggie cam app Leo and Lia installed on our phones.
“What is it?” Morris asks.
Lia looks at him gravely as she shows him a photo the app captured. “It’s a man, Morris. There’s someone in the building.”
I look at the image on Lia’s phone and then quickly look at the one I’m holding in my hand. It’s not just any man inside the building.
It’s Jerry Cruz.