Chapter 45
forty-five
JUDE
The second time Flinch shows up at the barbecue, I have no choice but to leave for the compound.
The party was winding down anyway and my medical expertise was needed.
That happens a lot when Sully is out of pocket with Vivienne.
I’m normally eager to help, especially when it involves finding P.J.
, but I can’t just walk out when I have my nephews.
There are other adults around, but I’m the one they’re comfortable with.
We couldn’t put questioning Andrew off. P.J could slip through our fingers if we wait.
Ignoring Andrew’s muffled whimpers, I pull out one of the chairs in the shed and stretch out with my legs in front of me. I have no bad feelings for this man. He was a creeper to my woman, and is now likely helping his kid brother elude us.
Scrolling through the photos from today’s barbecue on my phone, I pick through a couple of the best, looking carefully at the background before sending them to Willa. It’s something I do after bringing the boys anywhere.
We texted Presh yesterday to say we weren’t coming to the barbecue, since my sister doesn’t want the boys around the club.
When Presh heard, she called my sister, and suddenly it was fine.
I can’t explain the reasoning behind this one, but I know the boys enjoyed themselves more than if they were just hanging around with us.
Too bad I had to leave before they were dropped off with Willa. I don’t want my nephews to think I’m not going to be around.
After securing the last of the bandage wrap around Folgers arm, I stand from a crouch. “Really hope you’re right about your blood type.”
“I told you, I’m B negative,” Folgers says with a confused look.
“Or was it A positive? I can’t remember.
” As Andrew thrashes his confined body around in a poor attempt of keeping me from accessing a vein, Folgers' straight face doesn’t falter once.
The field transfusion kits I keep in stock usually include Eldon blood typing cards to ensure donor and recipient compatibility.
I’m short one, meaning we had to rely on Folgers’ memory. Good thing it’s sharp as a tack.
“Hey, cut it out. He’s fucking with you,” I bark. Fat tears roll down his reddened face, but they’re wasted on us.
Folgers and Flinch hold him still while I start the drip of donor blood. Once I’m done, I turn a glare towards Folgers, “Did you have to make it harder?” I accuse.
“Eh, gotta find a little fun where I can,” Folgers answers.
The room reeks. Andrew pissed his shorts, wetting the plaster cast on his leg.
The other is in a cage, pinned to keep it steady while it heals.
Guess Goldilocks went to town a little bit too much on that one when they caught him at the country club a few weeks back.
It’s rare we have to pick someone back up before they’ve healed from our last visit. This fucker really is that stupid.
Flinch leans down low and says, “We know you got a phone call from P.J. Just tell us what was said, and this can be over.”
“He just asked for a picture of his Social Security card.”
“Did you send it?” Flinch demands.
“No…Mom did.”
Did he really just sell out his mother to save his skin? Who does that?
When Greer’s number shows up on the caller ID, I answer on the second ring and step outside.
In the darkest moments of my work, her sweet voice is a ray of sunshine. “Hey, just letting you know I dropped the boys off with Willa,” she says in greeting.
“Did they do okay?”
“They’re exhausted and probably won’t be awake much longer.”
“I shouldn’t have let you take the boys. I thought you’d be home by now.”
Greer’s voice is amused. “Right before we left, Solomon told Aiden he could take some dinosaur eggs home to his mom, so he spent forever in the chicken coop. I thought he was going to have a heart attack when he found an egg with a blue shell.”
“Oh yeah, what did he say?”
“He thought the Easter Bunny left it. Solomon told him he was a smart boy, then brought him to the rabbit hutch in the barn.”
I missed that moment of childhood magic.
“And Braxton?”
“He got a little nervous, but seemed happy to see Willa.”
“Thank you for doing so much for them this weekend, Baby Doll. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I wouldn’t have had it any other way. The old ladies are trying to organize helping hands for your sister. A meal train, and someone to come in and clean.”
“I’ll ask Willa, but she hates the club.”
Then, to again prove how absolutely made for me this woman is, she demands, “I think I need to turn this car around and go have a talk with your sister…”
I roar out a laugh, “I’d better get back to work. I’ll be home in a couple of hours.”
She clears her throat, “Yeah, it’s been such a long day. I think I’m going to sleep deeply tonight. Very deeply.”
My ears begin to prickle. “Oh yeah?”
“Definitely.”
Anticipation thrums through my veins. Is this it?
We share “I love you,” then hang up. I’ve been waiting for the moment Greer might hint at our shared fantasy. Even worried she’ll forget.
Greer certainly knows how to make a man rush home to her.
With three large paces, I crash the shed door open.
“Alright, time to stop messing around. Let’s get him stable enough that I can go home.
” I yank on a pair of latex gloves, then survey the scene in front of me.
Flinch’s patience has worn off, and he’s gotten a little creative with his methods of persuasion.
In an exasperated tone, I mutter, “Damn it. Now I’m going to have to keep him from going into shock. Thanks for that.”
Hank’s asleep in his playpen instead of in our room.
Interesting.
As I crack open the bedroom door, light from the hallway illuminates Greer’s sleeping form.
She’s on her back, long ginger hair splayed across her pillow. My god, she takes my breath away.
With all the things I do for the club, I can’t believe the universe picked this woman to be mine.
We fit like a glove together, down to the same dirty little desire.
Let's check to see if I get to bring it to life tonight.
After drawing back the comforter, I lift the hem of the tee she’s wearing. Mine, to be precise. No panties.
Green light.
Baby Doll wants to be fucked.
I strip at record speed, tossing my clothes into the nearby hamper. My aching dick feels immediate relief from the confines of my jeans.
I stroke my cock with my fist, staring at her form in the dimly lit room, her bare pussy, the exposed skin of her thighs.
I need this. Need inside of her.
Climbing on the bed, I spread her legs to taste her pussy.
Sweet, my own addictive nectar. I take her clit into my mouth, sucking, nudging two fingers into her depths until she grows slick, ready to fuck.
I move over her, and line myself against her entrance.
We’ve discussed the rules. I can have her as many times as I want.
She’s giving me the gift of pleasure while she sleeps, oblivious to my use of her body.
She insisted that she doesn’t need to come, but I’m going to make sure she does.
I test the ease of movement in her depths, withdrawing before pistoning into her with one fierce thrust, bottoming out with a stifled groan. My knees start quaking, heart beating rapidly in my ears.
I pump into her channel, skimming a palm up to her breast, kneading it.
The other’s on her hip, pulling her to me with each greedy thrust. When my balls begin to tighten, I slow my thrusts, wanting to draw this out, to rip every drop of pleasure from this moment.
Every greedy lunge of my hips is euphoria.
Greer lets out a little groan, her body responsive even in her sleep.
Stars start to dance in front of my eyes as I come.
Faster than I want, but that was an appetizer to take the edge off, and test how deeply she’ll sleep for next time we play.
My cock stays hard, too much of a glutton for her, for this.
My fingers work on her clit, demanding a response. I want Greer to know what I’m doing to her.
I switch the angle of my thrusts, trying to hit her G-Spot.
She moans low and arches her back. After burying myself to the hilt, I lean down and steal a kiss. Time for Sleeping Beauty to wake up.