Chapter Fourteen #4
out the front door.
He’d received a text.
Standing on his mother’s front porch, he made a call.
“Mo,” Brock Lucas answered.
“Hey, Slim,” Mo greeted. “What’s up?”
“We had a situation last night in lockup.”
Mo drew in breath.
“This guy,” Slim went on, “the one who sent those letters
about Lottie, some of the other men set on him at chow and did a number on him
before the guards could break it up.”
Jesus shit.
“No idea why,” Lucas kept going. “He’s an easy mark, uptight
like he is, no priors, slight, no experience lookin’
out for himself, definitely not in a situation like that. They could have just
scented weak blood and went after it. He’d already had some trouble bein’ pushed around. Complained to the guards he’d been
threatened. They put him in solitary a couple of days and the men who were
causing the problem were moved out, either transferred or they made deals or
bail. So they put him back in gen pop. Apparently, those men had friends and he
was still a target.”
“And?” Mo prompted when he didn’t say more.
“They got him to the hospital and fixed him up. But in
recovery, he developed a pulmonary embolism. Lost oxygen to his brain. They
took him back into surgery, got that fixed too, but the damage was done.”
Mo’s entire body felt tight.
“What damage, Slim?”
“Man’s alive, but braindead,” Slim said. “He’s on a
respirator. Considering his inclinations, something my guess due to their
reactions to the trouble he was in they suspected, his family is not tight with
him. They’ve been called in. I don’t know if they’ll elect to take him off the
machines. I just know, even if they don’t, this man isn’t gonna
be in a position to hurt Lottie, or anyone. There’s not a blip on him, Mo. He’s
breathing, but he’s still gone.”
Mo didn’t know what he was feeling.
Because he was human, he didn’t want it to be good.
But mostly it was good.
“So it’s over,” Mo noted.
“Not for the boys in lockup who are now also facing
manslaughter charges, but for Lottie, yeah. It’s over.”
Yeah, what he was feeling was good.
He wondered if Smithie or Hawk had some hand in this guy
being hassled in jail.
Or for that matter Lee or one of his men.
But he stopped wondering almost before he started because he
really didn’t care.
“Thanks for telling me, Slim,” Mo said.
“Not a problem. You’ll inform Lottie?”
“Absolutely,” Mo told him.
“Great. Thanks. Later, Mo.”
“Later.”
He hung up.
He then heard the storm door open behind him.
Lottie stood in it, holding it open.
“Everything okay?” she asked, watching him closely.
“The man that sent those letters about you got jumped in
lockup,” he stated straight out. “They did some damage. He got an embolism
which made him braindead. He’s on a respirator but if they pull the plug or
not, it doesn’t matter. He’s not coming back from that so he’s no longer a
threat.”
She stared at him.
Mo let her and kept his eyes locked on her as she did.
Eventually, he asked, “You good?”
“I don’t really feel anything,” she replied, then asked, “Is
that bad?”
“Could come up later, baby,” he noted carefully.
“I’m probably the safest person on the planet,” she
returned. “You. The boys. My brothers. I had my freakout but then…” She
shrugged. “It was already over for me before it was over over
for him.”
That was when Mo moved into her, entering the house pushing
her back into it with him and letting the storm door hiss shut as he pulled her
in his arms.
She slid hers around him too and gave him a squeeze.
“You good?” she asked, her head tipped back to catch his
gaze.
“Totally.”
Lottie took a moment to assess this.
Then she smiled.
“Everything okay?” his mother asked at their sides.
Mo looked her way and answered, “No. I need more cake.”
His mom also took a moment to assess this, her silver eyes
shifting back and forth between him and Lottie before she also smiled.
Tammy never got his mother taking her in with Mo and then
smiling.
This was the fourth time that night he’d caught that from
his ma.
He’d been right. So had his boys.
Lottie being Lottie and giving what she did to Mo, she had
nothing to worry about.
“I’ll go cut you one, darling,” she said then she was off.
Mo moved Lottie out of the way and shut the front door.
He then walked his girl back to his family.
And got more cake.
Lottie
As far as I could tell, Mo Morrison was great at
everything he did.
But he had a particular talent with giving head.
Something right then, in my bed, he was demonstrating.
I had both hands on his smooth scalp, holding him to me, but
I didn’t need to do that.
He had me spread open with two fingers.
And my man was hungry.
When it happened, I hoped he got enough because he’d driven
me to the edge and once there, I leaped off and went flying, coming hard in
Mo’s mouth.
He licked me clean like he had the rest of his night to do
it and only rose up and settled over me when I gave him the sign by gliding my
fingers over the top of his head.
Once in position, he pushed his face in my neck and worked
me there.
I could feel his hot, hard cock pushing against my thigh.
So I encouraged, “Come inside.”
Mo glided his lips up to my ear. “Gonna
let you come down, play with you, work you back up, then you’re gonna take it, in my lap, doggie style.”
If he wanted me to come down, saying things like that didn’t
help.
His mouth eventually worked its way to mine and in the
middle of the deep, sweet, wet kiss that tasted of him mixed liberally with me,
I pressed up into him and Mo, being my Mo, got my message and took us to our
sides.
He broke the kiss and murmured against my lips, “My weight
too much?”
“Never,” I whispered, ducking down to press my face into his
throat running my hands over his warm, smooth skin, feeling the power
underneath, liking the power underneath but loving that it was all mine.
I tipped my head back and kissed the underside of his jaw.
“Sweet Lottie,” he said softly, cupping my ass in one hand,
holding me tight with his other arm.
“Tonight was the best, Mo,” I told him.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
“Your family rocks,” I shared.
“My mom rocks. The guys are the shit. My sisters are
nutcases.”
They were.
But the good kind.
“I liked them.”
“Thank fuck,” he mumbled.
I smiled against his skin.
And there, I informed him, “The day I met you, Smithie and I
had a conversation.”
I heard his head move on the pillow, so I tipped mine
further back in order to catch his eyes in the moonlight.
“About what?” he asked.
“About the fact I was giving up since I hadn’t found my
dream man and never thought I would.”
His big body grew still against mine.
“Then, hours later,” I carried on, “he walks right up and
knocks on my door.”
It was guttural when he groaned, “Baby.”
But I didn’t need to hear the emotion.
I was feeling it since he was squeezing the breath out of
me.
I let him, knowing he’d do what he did.
Relax his hold but keep me close.
I thought this was a good way to start the festivities back
up.
But unusually in times like this (and other times besides),
Mo was feeling chatty.
He shared this by saying, “You got that wrong.”
“I do?”
“Not wholly, but importantly.”
“How do I have that wrong?”
“I’d given up too. After Tammy, I was done. I thought it was
me. I thought it was my shit that was driving them away. Then one day my boss
hands me an assignment, and not an hour later, I walk right up and knock on the
door to the house of my dream girl. And she made me see a lot of really fuckin’
important shit differently.”
“Mo,” I whispered.
His big hand shifted to cup my face as his dipped closer to
mine.
“I don’t know what’s gonna happen,
baby. I know some of it probably isn’t gonna be
great. But who you are and what you give to me, most of it’s
gonna be awesome. You know I have bad dreams and they
may never stop. I don’t want that for me, or for you. But I can handle it a lot
better now, knowin’ I’ll get those and wake up to my
real dream, right there beside me.”
It was my voice that was hoarse when I declared, “We need to
fuck right now.”
“Yeah, we do,” he agreed.
But he didn’t fuck me.
Not immediately.
He kissed me, hard, deep and for a long time.
Then he rolled me to my belly, positioned between my legs,
shoved his knees deep underneath me so he was sitting back on his heels and
pulled me back on his cock.
Taking him, my neck arched, I came up on my hands, and my
powerhouse thrust into me.
Mo was feeling it at the same time feeling like making a
seriously good memory of it, so he didn’t let me control it.
To do that, he had to stop the action to switch positions so
he could fuck me in a variety of different ways.
But we ended with me back in his lap, face to face, my legs
up his chest, Mo on his ass, his arms around me, driving me down on his cock.
And we were kissing.
Later, I fell asleep in his arms and the last thought I had
was that I’d been right.
That night was the best.
But add the end of it?
It was living the dream.
So I didn’t get a Hot Bunch guy.
I got my Dream Man.
And the best of all of that…
My Dream Man got his Dream Girl.