For A Good Time, Call... (28 page)

“You
got the tattoo,” he said, reaching out to touch the intricate
black ink underneath my breasts. He had been right. The scars had
completely disappeared. “I wish I could have done it,” he
said, skimming his hands over the design that was exactly the one he
had drawn up himself. “but it came out really great, baby.”

His
hands slid down my ribs and landed on my hips for a moment before
pulling my panties down, letting them drop to the floor, before
pulling me forward and planting a kiss right above the scars there.
“God, I missed you,” he said with a quiet kind of
fierceness that made me almost sway on my feet.

My
hand went to his hair, stroking it down toward the back of his neck
and allowing myself to say something I promised myself I would never
say to him. “I missed you too.”

I
felt his warm breath on my heat and before I could process what he
was doing, his hands were pushing my thighs apart and I felt his
tongue find my sensitive clit. My hands slammed down on his
shoulders, trying to keep myself standing. “You taste so good,”
he said before going right back to his torturous exploration.

“Hunter,”
I groaned, reaching down his back to start pulling his shirt upward.

He
pulled backward, planting a line of kisses up my belly, between my
breasts, taking my nipple into his mouth and making my cry out when
he sank his teeth into it. He stood up slowly, pulling off his shirt
and my hands went for his zipper, pulling his pants down desperately.
It had been so long. So long and my body had barely gotten a taste of
what it had wanted before he left. I needed him. Right then. There.

My
hand reached out for his cock, stroking it until he made a growling
sound in his throat, reaching for me. “Get on your hands and
knees,” he told me and I quickly lowered myself down to the
floor. I saw him stoop down into his jeans for his wallet, heard the
crinkle of the condom wrapper, then felt him move up behind me. His
hands went to my hips for a moment and I felt his cock press against
my ass. He reached forward, pulling my hair away from my neck so he
could see my tattoo. He twisted my hair in his fist and pulled
slightly so I arched up.

“Tell
my how much you thought about me,” he said, one of his hands
slipping between us and bringing his cock to slide between my slick
folds.

“Every
day. Every other moment,” I admitted. “No matter how hard
I tried not to, I couldn't help it.”

“I
thought about you too,” he said and I felt his cock slide
backward and press against the opening. “And, fuck how I wanted
you again. Like this.”

Jesus
christ. I needed him inside of me five minutes ago. He was killing
me. “I wanted you too.” More than anything I had ever
wanted before.

“Like
this?” he asked, plunging forward and burying deep inside me.

“Fuck,”
I cried out, my hand slamming down on the floor. “Yes.”

His
hand pulled my hair harder as he started thrusting into my wildly. No
particular rhythm and my body didn't care. I just needed him. The
fullness inside. The friction. My orgasm was building quickly,
tightening around his cock with each thrust.

“You're
so fucking tight,” he ground out, slapping my ass hard once.

“Don't
stop,” I pleaded, pressing my thighs closer together, trying to
push my body closer to the climax, trying to feel him as fully as I
could.

He
pushed harder, each thrust sending my body slightly forward across
the floor. “Come for me, Fee,” he said, sounding close
himself. “I want to feel that pussy grab my cock.”

Holy
hell. I tried to suck in a breath but my orgasm slammed into me hard,
making my breath come out in s strangled yelp.

“Fuck,
baby, yeah,” he hissed, letting go of my hair and grabbing both
my hips, slamming me back against him as he thrust forward. I heard
his breath catch and his cock slam in fully, twitching slightly as he
came deep inside me.

My
legs were weak and wobbly from the unexpectedly intense orgasm, and I
started to slide slowly down toward the floor. Hunter wrapped his
arms around my middle, pulling me up and against his chest.

I
looked down at his arms and felt my heart drop slightly. I had spent
hours studying his tattoos. A family crest on his shoulder, a Dante
quote on the inside of his right arm... dozens of them I was as
familiar with as my own skin. But there was a new tattoo on the
inside of his left wrist, running right up over the vein that goes up
the arm. Just about four inches long and already healing.

A
antique locket key with very familiar filigree and a heart in the top
of the key where a rope of chain would fit through.

“Hunter...”
I said, not sure what to say. What to ask.

He
looked down over my shoulder, kissing my neck as he did. “Yeah?”

“What
is this?” I asked, my fingers reaching to run over the key.

“It
looks like a key tattoo,” he said.

“It
looks like a key tattoo that matches a locket tattoo of mine,”
I said.

“Mmmhmm,”
he said, resting his face against mine. “I think we both know I
am the only one who will ever have the key.”

“That
is a bit... presumptuous,” I said, not quite ready to say it.
Not sure I would ever be ready to.

Luckily,
he saved me from having to do so first. “I love you, Fee,”
he said simply. “I think I loved you the morning you stormed in
and stole all my hammers. I think I have only loved you more each day
since then.”

There
was a strange sensation inside, starting in my stomach and moving up
toward my chest. Something that felt like tightness and lightness at
the same time. Something that felt foreign and yet familiar. Like it
was something I had been waiting for all my life.

I
hope one day, darling, that you will know the touch of a man who
loves you. I pray you will know how wonderful it is. How rare and
beautiful. How godly. Even if it isn't within the union of marriage.
It isn't wrong. Nothing could be more right.

I
put my arms over his on my stomach, squeezing as much as the awkward
position would allow. “I love you too, Hunter,” I
admitted, closing my eyes against the rush of feeling. “Even if
you did steal my cactus.”

Twenty-Three

“You
sure you want to do this?” he asked me for the fourth time
since we hit the road. We were already several hours outside of the
city and I was staring out the window watching all the new leaves
start to break out of their buds on the trees.

“Yup,”
I said simply. I had been planning on meeting his family since the
day he told me about them. At first, because I wanted to validate his
story. But as time went by, it was pure curiosity. I wanted to know
them: these people who made Hunter who he was. Wonderful. Perfect.
And, also... who didn't want to meet a real life friggen loan shark?
That sounded like a blast.

We
had waited for the winter to pass. Spending our days and nights
curled up in bed, keeping each other warm. Enjoying the blissful cozy
feeling that was new love. But spring was well underway and there
were no more excuses he could throw at me that I would accept.

I
had spent hours agonizing over my wardrobe all the while Hunter had
insisted that the more “me” I looked, the more his family
and especially his mother, would like me. So I had thrown a bunch of
mini skirts, tanks, crop tops, and heels in a bag and called it a
day. I had slipped into a peach mini skirt with a white and robin's
egg blue vertical striped crop top with nude heels for the meeting.

Hunter
had nodded at me, taking the bags out of my hand, lifted my skirt,
shoved me against the wall, and fucked me from behind until my legs
were shaking. Then we casually went down the stairs and got in his
car.

“Alright,”
Hunter said, pulling into a bar parking lot and cutting the engine. I
eyed the bikes parked out front, chrome and black, suggesting a
particular kind of clientele. I sat there for a second fighting the
image of Hunter in head to toe leather and studs. “What's so
funny?” he asked, looking over at me.

“So...”
I said, biting my lip to keep from laughing. “do you own some
leather pants I don't know about?”

“Oh,
shut up,” he said, getting out of the car and walking around to
meet me. “You're sure about this? We could just turn around and
head back right now,” he said, reaching for my hand and pulling
it up to kiss it.

“Take
me to your mother,” I said instead, and he nodding and pulled
me in through the doors. The inside wasn't what I had been expecting,
sleek and sophisticated. Several stereotypical bikers sat at the bar
and stood around the pool table to the right. Toward the back of the
room was a group of tall, dark haired guys that were, unmistakably,
Hunter's four other brothers.

“Hunt!”
one of them called and the rest turned, four sets of blue eyes on me
and I almost took a step back. Almost.

Hunter's
hand went to my lower back, firm and steady. I turned my head to him
and he smiled down at me. “Out of the frying pan,” he
said, nodding past his brothers.

“Into
the fire,” I whispered back, watching his parents break through
the group and walk up toward us.

“Mom,
Dad,” he said, leaning forward to kiss his mother's cheek.
“This is Fiona. Fee, these are my parents: Charlie and Helen”

They
stared at me for a long minute, his father a glimpse at what Hunter
would look like in twenty years and his mother a gorgeous, albeit
intimidating woman, in her six inch stilettos and tight black jeans.

The
silence stretched on and I glanced from the parents to the brothers.
“So,” I said, breaking the impossible silence. “if
I walk out on my tab tonight...” I see the knowing smile on
Hunter's face while I spoke. “which one of them is gonna break
my kneecaps?”

Hunter's
father was the first to laugh, reaching out and grabbing me into a
hug. “I like this one,” he called over his shoulder at
Hunter as he pulled me over toward the other Mallick boys. “Alright,
this is Ryan, Shane, Eli, and Mark. Boys,” he said, tightening
his arm around my shoulders. “this is Hunt's new girl. He's
gonna be the first one of you worthless lot to get me a grand baby.”

“Dad,”
Hunter warned.

“I
got it, Hunter,” I called back, beaming up at his father.

Maybe
I had never given motherhood any thought before. It always seemed
like an impossible goal. Seeing as getting pregnant generally meant I
needed to get naked around someone and before Hunter, that was not
even an option. But I wont lie, I have been giving it a little
thought lately. Perhaps you could blame my mother's letters. To
finally feel that connection with her without the threat of my father
finding out. I would like the chance to pay that forward. To break
the cycle. To raise kids in security and comfort and warmth. And
love. Oh, the love. Especially with someone as giving and good as
Hunter.

“Give
it a few years,” I said close to his father's ear and he
chuckled, nodding down at me.

“Need
the honeymoon phase. I get it. When I met that woman,” he said,
looking over at his wife with a look of wonder and pride. Even after
all their time together. “I didn't let her out of arm's reach
for five years before I got her with Ryan.”

The
brothers groaned, rolling their eyes, and I laughed. “So,”
I said, turning to all the Hunter look-a-likes. “which one of
you is Shane?” I asked and watched as they all tilted their
heads to the biggest of them.

“'Sup
Fiona?” he asked, inclining his head at me.

I
looked back at Hunter's father then stepped out of his arms, closing
the few feet between us, and slapping Shane as hard as my much
smaller frame would allow across the face. The other brother's eyes
went wide, then they laughed as did Charlie “Don't even act
like you didn't have that coming,” I said.

He
reached up, rubbing the skin on his cheek that had turned a
satisfying shade of red. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“Damn
straight you did,” I agreed, not stepping back though I had to
crane my head up to speak to him. “And if you ever feel like
some stupid fucking sibling rivalry gives you the right to play God
in his, in our, lives... then you'll be answering to me.”

“You
better listen to her,” Helen said, coming up on the other side
of me. “I hear she is pretty ruthless with a knife.”

My
eyes went to Hunter who looked as every bit as guilty as he was.
“Sorry Sixteen,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“So,
Fiona,” Ryan broke in. “what do you do?”

I
felt myself smiling and Hunter held his hands up as if letting me
know he hadn't told anyone. Good. Saving the juicy bits for me to
share. “I'm a small business owner,” I hedged.

“What
business?” his father asked, looking curious, being a
businessman himself.

“Phone
sex,” I said matter-of-factually and one of the brothers, Eli,
who had been drinking a beer, choked on it. “And let's say...
supplies for certain fetishists.”