Colorado 03 Lady Luck (40 page)

Walker pushed away from the railing, feeling
Julius follow him.

“Beer, babe,” he said, moving to her.

She nodded on a grin up at him then her eyes
moved beyond him to Julius. “You need a refresh?”

“Yeah, woman,” Julius replied.

She grinned at him, turned and lifted her
face when Walker got close, he gave her what she didn’t verbally
ask for but he knew she wanted, bent and touched his mouth to
hers.

Then he moved beyond her into the house.

Julius followed.

When he hit kitchen, he looked back to see
she was returning to the house after collecting his cup and
Julius’s empty.

And seeing that, Julius’s words hit his
brain.

Gives back a little of what she’s givin’
you.

Fuck.

He set it aside and walked out to the back
deck to see she’d put out placemats, cloth napkins, plates, cutlery
and she’d lit little, squat candles around the base of the
umbrella. Some of these were recent additions she’d bought when she
was with her girls, getting it in order to make a nicer table.

And there was also the food, fried pork
chops, mashed potatoes, gravy, greens and rolls.

A celebration for Julius, the best she could
do with no notice and it was obviously still really fucking
good.

Gives back a little of what she’s givin’
you.

Fuck.

He again put that aside and sat, Julius sat
opposite and Lexie came out with three beers, announcing, “Apple
pie and ice cream after dinner. It’s a frozen one but it’s a good
one.” Her eyes came to Walker and she gave him a smile. “Luckily,
went to the store on my way home from the salon before Julius
showed.” She sat between them and her eyes went to Julius. “He
works out loads but my man has got a sweet tooth. Can’t keep
stocked.”

“Not big on desserts inside,” Julius told
her as a joke but saw his mistake immediately when the shadow
crossed Lexie’s face. Therefore he instantly muttered, “Sorry, baby
doll.”

She pushed through it, declaring, “That’s
why I keep stocked.”

Julius studied her a moment before he
grinned.

Walker let him have her return smile before
he shot his hand out, caught his wife behind the neck and pulled
her to him. Her head turned as he moved her and he caught her mouth
just in time. No touch, he wanted a taste and the minute he started
opening his lips, she felt it, opened hers and gave him one. He
touched the tip of his tongue to hers and let her go.

Her smile for him was a fuckuva a lot
better.

Then he grabbed the platter of pork chops
and handed it across to his brother.

* * * * *

Walker slid his hand from his wife’s hip,
over her ass, down her spine to the middle of her back and pressed
in. He didn’t have to press hard, she gave him what he wanted
instantly, her back arched, her arms slid out in front of her, her
torso pressed into the bed and her ass tipped higher toward the
ceiling, allowing him deeper access.

Yeah, she offered her pussy any way he
wanted, not even a noise of protest.

Lexie was on her knees, those knees at the
edge of the bed. He was on his feet beside it, powering inside her,
rough, hard, nearly brutal. He hadn’t had this for two weeks, he
was taking it and there she was in front of him, his wildcat, so
fucking wet she was drenched, so tight, so sweet, loving every
second of it.

He knew this to be true when the sweet, sexy
noises she was making changed, went from pleasure to desperation.
She was close, it was almost on her.

He pulled out and instantly her head flew
back, her neck twisting at the same time.

“Don’t stop, baby,” she whispered, that same
desperation in her tone.

He bent forward, his hand in her back slid
around her ribs to the front, he pulled her up and turned her to
face him, his arm around her back now going down over her ass. He
lifted her up and her arms circled his shoulders, her head tipped
down, her mouth finding his, her tongue sliding inside.

He put a knee to the bed, her legs circled
his hips, the other knee went in and once he was in, he fell
forward, taking her to her back. Then, their mouths still
connected, their tongues tangled, he surged back inside.

He lost her mouth when her neck arched.

Fuck, but his wife liked his cock.

He got up on a forearm in the bed, tipped
his body slightly to the side and kept thrusting deep and hard, his
eyes on her, his other hand gliding up her body to wrap around the
side of her neck. Her head righted and her eyes found his.

No words, he didn’t like them when he had
his cock buried deep in wet pussy, she didn’t need them. During sex
or not, her eyes spoke for her.

And he liked what they were saying.

So his fingers dug gently into her neck as
he tilted his hips and powered back in, finding her sweet spot,
giving it to her and she took it. Her back arching, her arm behind
his back flexing, her legs circling his hips tightening, her other
hand flying to his wrist at her neck and holding on tight, she
gasped first, deep, audible, then came the loud moan and then the
whimper.

He dropped to her, gave her his weight and
grasped her hips, yanking her down on his cock as he drove up
inside her, near savage. He was heavy, he knew it, felt and heard
her breath stay labored and not just with sex. But she’d give him
this, she’d done it before, she’d hold her breath until she passed
out, take his cock no matter how hard he gave it to her, hold him
tight like she was just then, all of this to tell him he could have
what he wanted how he wanted it.

But he never did it unless he was close.

And he was close.

Then he was there, ramming so hard and deep,
she cried out, he planted himself to the root and came.

The instant he could, he took away his
weight but stayed rooted and covering her.

He gave it a minute before he lifted his
head to look down at her. When he did, one of her arms went from
around his shoulders so she could cup his cheek, her hand shifting,
her thumb sliding over the scar at his eyebrow and down to the
smaller one under his eye. She did this often too, ever since he’d
whispered to her one night in the dark that his mother gave him
that scar by throwing a glass at him when he was nine, a glass he’d
left in the living room, something she didn’t like, a glass that
broke on his face. A miracle it didn’t do worse damage, he’d told
her. She didn’t agree. She saw no miracle at work in that scar and
she touched it like she could make it go away then, when her thumb
moved and it hadn’t disappeared, the specter of disappointment that
she hadn’t succeeded in erasing the physical manifestation of this
memory shadowed her face before she fought it back.

He watched that specter glide through and
disappear.

Gives back a little of what she’s givin’
you.

She was on her back in their bed for him. No
less uncomfortable that it was Julius a stairway away and not Ella,
he told her he was done with bathroom sex and she objected no
further. Though he promised her he’d asked Julius to make certain
he closed his door, he couldn’t know if Julius had complied. She
still gave it to him like he wanted it.

Gives back a little of what she’s givin’
you.

Fuck.

He should tell her about Peña, open that
option to her, discuss their future and how he should play it. He
knew it. Lying on top of her, still inside her, her hand still at
his face, her eyes sweet on him through the moonlight, he knew
it.

But he wasn’t going to.

Instead, he whispered, “You took my cock
hard, baby, I hurt you?”

Her lips tipped up at the ends and she shook
her head.

Yeah, she got off on it.

He grinned at her.

“Missed our bed,” she whispered back.

He knew that, she’d been creative, creative
enough he knew she was storing that shit up, it had built so high,
she couldn’t contain it and unleashed it all at once. That was why
he gave it to her so hard, because she spent some time and effort
working him up.

“Yeah,” he replied.

Her hand left his face so her arm could
circle his shoulders and both arms gave him a squeeze.

“I like Julius,” she murmured.

“Good,” he murmured back.

Her eyes went soft and they did that often
but not that way. That was new. And it settled in the way he’d felt
earlier. It was weighty but not heavy. Warm. Welcome. Deep.

“What’s on your mind, mama?”

“That I like it when you call me ‘mama’,”
she lied instantly.

He shook his head.

“Just called you that, Lex, so that wasn’t
on your mind,” he replied softly.

She sucked in breath. Then, always putting
herself out there for him, even at the beginning, she didn’t do
anything different now and said, “Lived under a shadow one way or
another all my life. Now it’s bright. Even at night. Not used to it
and sometimes it hits me. That’s what was on my mind.”

There it was again. That thing settling,
welcome, warm and deep.

He bent his head and touched his forehead to
hers briefly before lifting it up and pulling out.

“Get cleaned up, baby,” he muttered and
rolled off her.

She rolled with him, shoved her face in his
neck a moment, kissing him there then scooted off the bed.

He got in it.

She did her business in the bathroom, came
out and joined him. They’d fucked without the lights on for once
but the moonlight still shone through the windows. Still he didn’t
see that she got in bed without tagging her panties and tugging
them on, he heard it.

That meant Walker was grinning at the
ceiling as she slid across the bed and curled around him.

His wildcat was far from done.

Moments passed and he waited for it.

She gave it to him.

“Honey?” she called.

“Yeah.”

Her arm around his gut gave him a squeeze.
“You tired?”

“Mama, just fucked you hard.”

Her body slumped into his side and she
whispered, “Oh.”

He grinned at the ceiling again.

Then he said, “Doesn’t take a lotta energy
to eat you, though.”

She shifted restlessly against him.

She liked that. Wanted it. Fucking
wildcat.

Walker turned into her and found her mouth
in the dark. It wasn’t hard to find, she’d tipped her head back to
offer it to him.

He didn’t kiss her, he spoke. “On your back,
Lexie, and spread for me.”

“Okay,” she whispered against his lips.

Then she got to her back and spread for
him.

Then Walker ate his wife and then he fucked
her again.

After they were done, she got back to bed
from the bathroom and again didn’t tug up her panties before she
did it but this time not because she wanted another round. This
time, because she was out the minute her cheek hit his
shoulder.

Five minutes later, she rolled, he rolled
with her and he was out the minute her body settled into the curve
of his.

And from her leaving him to go to the
bathroom to Walker falling asleep, not once did he think of the
bars, of the smells or of the feel of the institution. All that
shit was gone in a way he didn’t even notice that it was.

And it was unfortunate he didn’t notice
because, if he did, he’d have realized Lexie gave that to him
too.

And if he’d realized this, the next day he
wouldn’t have done what he would do.

An Hour

“What do you think?” I asked Dominic as I
showed him the flier I’d painstakingly crafted on software I’d
never used before considering my skills with computers were limited
to e-mail, internet shopping, facebook, downloading e-books on my
reader and looking up weather and movie times.

In other words, working on it between
taking phone calls, ringing up services and purchases, dusting and
restocking shelves, assuring every exiting customer that they
looked
fabulous
, the
flier took me five days.

And the flier was important. It announced
the soon-to-be released new services Dominic’s spa was offering,
making his spa that was really a salon into an actual spa.

Therefore I wanted it to be right but knew
it wasn’t.

“
I
love
it!” he cried, snatching the flier out of my hand to
examine it closer.

Perhaps I was wrong.

“You do?” I asked, thinking it looked what
it was, like a blind six year old with learning difficulties
designed it.

“
It’s
brilliant!
” Dominic exclaimed then shoved it back in my hand and
looked at me. “Print out fifty. I’ll send Daniel out with Blue
Tack, a stapler and a mission.”

I grinned at him, he grinned back then his
eyes slid over my shoulder to the front window and narrowed.

“Shit! Shit! On a Saturday,” he snapped then
hissed, “figures.”

I turned my head to see what he was looking
at but couldn’t see anything but a figure moving at the window
behind the blinds that were partially closed against the heat of
the sun.

He went on, “Never calls for an
appointment. Thinks she owns the town, I swear. She always waltzes
in here and thinks I can do her walk-in. Do I
look
like a stylist who accepts walk-ins? Uh…
no.
”

Then the door opened; the figure that was
obscured by the blinds moved through the door and Misty Keaton
walked in.

I froze.

Shit. Shit. Fucking
shit.

“Misty!” Dominic cried as if she was his
bestest best high school friend who he hadn’t seen since they got
shitfaced at their graduation party and they’d just locked eyes at
their twenty-five year reunion and he had not been bitching about
her five seconds earlier.