Coup De Grâce (13 page)

The tightening of the chain sounded, and both of them started giving it gas.

Then, all of a sudden, Michael stopped.

“She’s going forward,” he said, covering his face with his hands. “Please tell me she’s not. Because I’ll be embarrassed to call her my sister.”

I hopped out of the truck, and my white tennis shoes immediately sank into the mud.

It came all the way up to my lower calves, but I got out to circumvent the argument I knew was about to ensue.

“Hannah!” I whispered loudly.

She turned and let off the gas.

“Backwards!” I whispered again.

Her eyes widened, and then she covered her mouth with her hand. “Shit!”

With pink cheeks, she pushed it up into reverse and started to go backwards.

Michael then started to go forward, and immediately pulled her out of the dirt with little to no effort at all.

He drug her all the way to the road where he pulled over and parked just to the side of the road and got out.

“You need a driveway,” he growled.

Hannah fell out of her Jeep because she was parked on the incline that lead to a ditch, causing her to trip and nearly fall on her face.

Her baby brother, though, saved her before she could even make it to her knees.

“You’ll need to keep parking here where it’s packed ground, otherwise you’ll keep getting stuck,” he told her, setting her on her feet.

I crossed my arms over my chest and turned to look at the dog that was peeking out the door behind me.

“Hey big boy,” I said to him.

He was old.

He was a black lab that had a white mask covering the entirety of his face.

He moved slow as he made his way to me.

I went down to my haunches, holding out my hand for him.

He nudged my hand, and I started to pet his head.

“You’re a sweet baby,” I told him, scratching behind his ears.

“That’s Mogley,” Hannah said from behind me. “He’s a sucker for some lovin’s.”

I smiled. “He’s sweet. I used to have a black lab like him named Nike. My dad had to put him to sleep when he was fifteen because he couldn’t walk anymore. Too many Frisbee tosses, I guess.”

“Mogley’s a whiz with a tennis ball. He used to be my ex’s, but Joshua didn’t want to take care of him anymore when he started to lose his desire to duck hunt,” she said sadly.

What a dick.

How could you just get rid of a dog who was too old to do what you asked of him?

Certainly not me!

I’d kill for a puppy, but my apartment’s pet deposit was outrageous, and you couldn’t have a dog over twenty five pounds.

And, although I loved small dogs, I couldn’t handle the high pitch barking that came with them.

I much preferred a dog that would protect me. Play with me. And genuinely have fun with me.

I’d have that again someday.

“He’s a sweetheart,” I told her.

Michael came up to the porch and offered Mogley a scratch on the head before he started stripping off his boots, followed quickly by his pants.

“Got anything I can change into?” He asked.

I blinked when he stripped right down to his boxer briefs.

“What would you do if I didn’t?” She asked laughingly.

He glared at her.

“Drive home in my underwear,” he said simply.

Of course he would.

Although, men could get away with that.

They could get away with almost anything.

Whereas, if a woman had tried to drive home in nothing but a bra and panties, she’d get into trouble for it.

“I have some of Joshua’s old clothes in the spare bedroom. They won’t fit you well, but I’m pretty sure there’s a pair of old shorts and a t-shirt or something,” she told him.

He grunted and walked into the house, completely ignoring me.

“Hmmm,” I said once he left.

“He’s in one of
those
moods,” she explained softly.

I nodded. “He’s fine.”

She looked at me carefully.

“You know,” she said simply.

I blinked. “Know what?” I asked innocently.

“That he’s bi-polar.”

I nodded. “Yeah, he told me.”

Her eyes widened in understanding.

“He loves you,” she whispered. “And you love him.”

I blinked.

“Well…” I did. I just didn’t want his sister to know.

I was waiting.

I sensed that that was somehow crucial to our budding relationship.

If I spooked him, he would run.

Which was why I was denying, with everything I had, what I sorely suspected
wasn’t
food poisoning
or
a stomach bug.

I was pregnant.

Very pregnant.

Because since I’d hooked back up with Michael, I’d not had my period.

I was so regular with my period that I could set a timer to it.

I could tell you within the hour of when I was going to start, because it started at the same time every month.

Which meant that the first time we were together we’d conceived a child.

A child that he didn’t want.

A child that I had to convince him that he could have. Who could be
healthy.
Who could be a good person, just like he
was.
Whether he wanted to admit he was a good man or not.

“You love him,” she confirmed, nodding her head. “Good. He’s a good man.”

See? I knew he was.

“I know,” I told her. “He’s a
really
good man.”

“He’s a sap for a little kid, though. As you can see, he’s collecting them once again,” she said with a snicker. “A year or so ago,
he saved a little boy from a car crash, and stayed with him for four hours while he was cut out of a car. Now Jackson is Michael’s biggest fan. They still hang out with each other every once in a while. Hell, he’s Reggie’s best friend. He’s all she talks about sometimes.”

That knowledge that he loved kids gave me hope.

I’d already known that, of course, but it was good to have it reiterated.

“How old is Reggie?” I asked, gathering up Michael’s clothes and boots and putting them into a trash bag that Hannah had magically produced out of a planter/secret hiding spot between two chairs on her porch.

“She’s two and a half, going on eighteen,” Hannah laughed. “She’s Michael’s little mini-me. Imitates everything Michael does, and it drives my ex-husband bonkers. I love it.”

I laughed with her.

Which was how Michael found us.

He wasn’t in a bad mood any longer.

No, he was in a great mood.

Which he proved when he said, “I like it when my two favorite girls get along, smiling and laughing.”

I gave him a thumbs up. “Well, we were laughing at you. Does that make you feel any different?”

He shook his head in the negative.

“No, it doesn’t. As long as you’re getting along,” he announced.

I raised a brow at him, studying his attire.

He was in a black pair of jogging shorts that were seriously too tight on him, mostly because I could make out the outline of his cock through the shorts. And although it was a very nice outline, it wasn’t something I wanted the world to be seeing.

His shirt wasn’t much better, but at least it was something.

I was happy to see his tattoos in the daylight, though.

Normally, I only got to see him when we were at his house or mine. And it was only in the privacy of our bedroom.

Michael wasn’t like normal men.

He didn’t go without a shirt. He always had one on.
Always
.

Unless he was going to bed or getting out of the shower.

“Why wouldn’t we get along?” I asked curiously.

Hannah was the one to answer.

“Joslin and I didn’t get along. At all. She was selfish and stuck up. She also
hated the fact that I called her on her shit when I picked up ER rotations. Something she really, really
didn’t like,” she answered.

“Ahh,” I said. “That makes sense. She hates me because I do that, too.”

Hannah grinned. “Looks like we have a ton of stuff in common. And guess what! We can gang up on her at family dinners and Christmases! Because my big brother is being stupid and marrying the cheating hoe!”

Michael’s head tilted to the side. “How’d you know she cheated?”

Hannah looked at him as if he were stupid. “Michael, baby brother dear, I’m not stupid. I work in the same hospital she does. And her stink doesn’t just stay on the ground floor. It permeates to all the floors. Trust me.”

I had to agree.

Joslin was somewhat famous.

She was the hoe of the hospital, and everyone knew it.

They may not know her by sight, but they knew her by name, and that name wasn’t really pretty.

“They call her Whoreslin instead of Joslin,” Hannah informed him.

He blinked.

“And she’s alright with that?” He asked in disbelief.

My eyebrows shot up.

“She doesn’t know she’s called that,” I told him.

He blinked. “If everyone calls her that, she has to know. The woman is far from dumb,” he told me.

I shrugged. “No matter. Whatever she is,
is not dumb. But she also has no care of what others think of her. She’s going to do what she d
oes without another thought on what anyone else thinks.”

“So will you be on time for dinner tonight?” Hannah asked, changing the subject.

I was glad.

That subject always had the ability to make me depressed.

A year and a half of working with her, and I still hated it.

The fact that I was about to meet his parents, though, wasn’t much better.

In fact, the nausea was back full force at the thought of meeting them.

I’d met parents before, but I never knew what to say.

I wasn’t a very outgoing person.

I could talk to someone, of course, but I always said or did something to make myself look stupid.

“We’ll be there on time, I think. Unless something with the team comes up,” Michael said, lifting his arms high above his head to rest on the lip of the porch’s roof.

His way too short shirt rode up exposing his taut belly, and my mouth started to water.

His belly was covered with tattoos, but I could still see the defined ridges of his abdominals peeking out.

The man was seriously ripped.

And it never hurt to see his tattoos. Something which made me so happy to see on display since they were made for people to see.

Not that he agreed with me.

It’d been the subject of many discussions, and I’d finally decided to just let it be.

He could do what he wanted to do, and I’d be there to support him.

“Well,
it’s not like you have any control of when you get a SWAT callout. I
t is what it is,” she said, waving her arm at the idea that he’d be late for that. “Mom will get over it.”

I sensed that this was also a sore subject, him being on the SWAT team, and I made a mental note to ask him about it later.

“Alright, Hannah. I’ve got to run. We’ve got a lunch with the boys, but I’ll see you later this afternoon,” he said to his sister.

Hannah walked forward and hugged him, effectively getting him muddy once again, but not nearly as much as he’d been before.

He scrunched her hair and kissed her forehead before he let her go.

“Be careful,” he whispered to her.

Hannah nodded. “I will.”

Then, before I could think or say anything to the contrary, I was picked up.

One of his arms swept my legs out from under me, and the other went behind my shoulders to catch me as I fell.

I squealed and looped my arms around his shoulders, hanging on for dear life, even though I knew he’d never drop me.

“I’m too heavy!” I protested.

He snorted.

“You’re not heavy. You’re petite. Which is the opposite of
too heavy,” he said with that annoyingly sweet tone of his.

I could hear the way his feet sank into the mud with each step, and I couldn’t help but object.

“Michael, my feet are already covered in mud. Why are you carrying me?” I asked.

He laughed.

I leaned my head down to rest against his neck.

“Whatever,” I said teasingly.

He squeezed me tighter, and I’d never felt safer or more content in my life.

Don’t put off tomorrow what you should’ve done today. Maybe I will…tomorrow.

-Fact of life

Nikki

“Michael!” I gasped, my head going back as he roughly pulled my hair, exposing my neck to his mouth.

He ran his tongue from my collarbone all the way to my ear lobe, which he sucked into his mouth, running his tongue along the outer shell.

“We’re going to be late,” I said desperately.

He wasn’t listening, though.

He was already pulling my jeans down my thighs, pushing them down with both hands as he bent me over the side of the bed.

“I’ll be quick,” he rumbled deeply, making my eyes roll back in my head when his bearded cheeks ran down my slit as he traced the length of my sex with his tongue.

“God,” I breathed, pushing back involuntarily as he thrust his tongue into my waiting pussy.

The scratchy beard covering his chin dug deliciously into my clit, and I was on the verge of coming when he pulled back so abruptly that I cried out in frustration.

“Alright, we can go now,” he said sternly.

I looked over my shoulder at him, saw the gleam in his eyes, and knew he was joking.

Narrowing my eyes I gave him the stink eye. “You’ve already got me on the brink. How about you just finish the job?” I asked, wiggling my ass for effect.

He grinned and slowly worked the zipper of his jeans down, unbuttoned them, then lowered his pants from around his hips just enough that he could free his erection without much maneuvering.

I licked my lips causing him to grin at me.

He knew how much he affected me, and I didn’t care one bit.

“Michael,” I urged, pushing my hips back against him.

His eyes darkened, and he lined his cock up with my entrance before slowly easing inside.

I gasped and threw my head back.