Screw It Page 13

  A woman walks out, and I’m guessing it’s his wife. She’s decked out in a black dress, full makeup, and blonde hair blown out. She’s staring down at her feet, which have mismatched shoes.

  “Which shoe?” she asks. She lifts her head, and her face brightens. “Oh, hey. You must be Zach.”

  “Yeah. You must be Krissy.”

  She walks forward and shakes my hand. “Yep.” She squats down to the kids. “And you must be Nick and Ashley.”

  “Yep,” Nick says, puffing out his chest.

  Ashley hides behind my legs but peeks out and gives a little wave with her pudgy hand.

  Krissy straightens. “Sorry. I’m almost ready. Which shoe do you like better?”

  Matt looks down at her shoes. Then, he lifts a finger and makes a twirl motion. When she does, I get why he wanted the twirl. He’s checking to see which shoe lifts her ass more.

  That guess is confirmed when he points to the taller one. “That one.”

  She looks down at her feet. “Really? I thought the one with the pink bow was cuter.”

  “Babe, you asked a guy which shoe, and seeing as that shoe does great things, you’re gonna get a guy answer.”

  Her eyes widen as light dawns. Rolling her eyes, she smirks, one side of her lips tilting up. “Gotcha.” She turns, sends Matt a wink over her shoulder, and struts out.

  Matt chuckles and then says to me, “I’ll go get the girls.”

  Holding back my smirk, I lift my chin.

  I’ve been looking forward to tonight since Matt called to let me know that all was good for us to come over. He also filled me in that he’d told Becca about what he’d shared with me. I don’t plan on pushing Becca about that information anytime soon. I need to earn that trust, and I have no doubt that I will.

  I continued to run with her in the mornings and walk her home at night. Friday night, she was quiet and guarded. I didn’t like the retreat, but I got it. Me knowing that shit put her off her game. When she opened her apartment building door Saturday morning, she smirked and rolled her eyes. At the end of the run, she tried blowing me off, but I wiped invisible dirt off her arm and took my time doing it. She shivered, and her nipples hardened under her sports bra. Then, of course, she jerked away, threw attitude, and stomped up the stairs while I chuckled.

  Tonight, I’ll have her for hours.

  Fuck yeah.

  Two little girls run up to Nick and Ash, and Matt follows behind them, coming to a stop beside me.

  The older girl starts yapping, “Yay! I’m so excited you guys came over. My daddy said you’re five. I’m five, too. Isn’t that so cool? Do you wanna go see my toys?”

  Nick peeks up at me with a smile and his eyebrows high.

  I lift my chin. “Be good.”

  After a “Whoop!” from Nick and a squeal from the girls, the four of them dart down the hall.

  Narrowly missing getting trampled by the kids, Becca walks in barefoot with her hair piled on top of her head, makeup free, and wearing short jean shorts that show off the creamy skin of her toned legs and a flowing purple tank top at least a size too big.

  Christ, just puttering around the house, she’s gorgeous.

  When she sees me, she smiles without it hitting her eyes. “Hey.”

  “Hey right back atcha, sweets.”

  She smirks and then slides her eyes to Matt. “Just gonna check on the pizza real quick.”

  “Great. Make sure you leave some for me. I do not want to miss out on that shit.”

  She smiles big, and this time, it’s genuine. “Will do.” Then, she rounds the corner.

  “Right. You finish up that report yesterday?” Matt asks me.

  The case we’ve been working on for a week is done. Aside from the sleeping pills, nothing else appeared in Sharon’s tox screen, and no other evidence was found in the home. There were no leads, so her death was officially ruled a suicide. As sad as Sharon’s death is, my pride swelled at closing my first official case.

  “Yeah, finished the paperwork while Becca was working.”

  Krissy bustles into the room. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “Fucking finally.” Then, Matt hollers, “Kids! Come say good-bye!”

  After the girls hug and kiss their parents good-bye, they rush back down the hall to play.

  “Later, Becca!” Krissy calls.

  Her head pops around the corner, her smiling eyes on Matt and Krissy. “Have fun, guys.” Then, she disappears again.

  Once they’re gone, I head into the next room to find Becca. I hit the white country kitchen to see Becca bending over in front of the open oven. Her shorts ride up, so I can almost see the crease where her legs meet her ass. Jesus, I remember licking that crease, the taste as sweet as the rest of her.

  She stands and pops the pizza stone on the stove. The smell of cheese, garlic, and buffalo sauce hits me, making my mouth water for her buffalo chicken pizza. Fuck, never had a pizza so good before her and definitely not after. I can make a mean sandwich, fry eggs and bacon, and make toast, but other than that, I live on takeout and Mom’s leftovers.

  My eyes zone back in on her legs and ass as she pulls out plates and shit for dinner.

  Goddamn.

  Buffalo chicken pizza and that ass—it’s my own slice of heaven.

  “If you’re done staring at my ass, can you go get the kids for dinner?” she asks without turning around.

  My lips twitch, fighting my laughter.

  She peeks over her shoulder. “Um, hello? Kids?”

  “Sweets, you said if I was done staring at your ass to go get them. Seeing as I’m still standing here, that means I’m not done staring.”

  She rolls her eyes and turns back to moving around the kitchen, but she can’t hide her shoulders shaking with laughter.

  When she turns back to me, her eyes are smiling. “Fine. I’ll amend that. Quit staring at my ass, and go get the kids.”

  With that, I smile huge and do what I’m told.

  After I’ve eaten four slices of pizza and Becca threatens bodily harm if I eat any more, I clear and do the dishes while Becca cleans pizza-faced kids. Then, she bitches that I used too much soap.

  I say, “Woman, it’s a plate, and it’s clean. Quit your bitching.”

  Her eyes widen slightly in surprise, and then her mouth twitches, causing my eyes to drop to her lips. I like the sight so much, her smirk and the spark in her eyes when she bitches, that I decide she can nag all she wants. I might even provoke it.

  Once everything’s cleaned up, Matt’s oldest girl, Ana, uses the only volume she seems to have as she shouts, “Let’s play hide-and-seek!”

  “Yeah! Let’s pway hide-and-seek! Hide-and-seek! Can we, Auntie Becca? Pwease?” three-year-old Alison whines.

  “Sure, babes.” And not for the first time, Becca’s face lights up with pure fondness.

  Seeing her look at her niece like that warms my gut.

  My girl is sweet.

  “Sounds good. I’ll count first.” I turn my back, put my hands over my eyes, and start counting.

  For the next hour, we play hide-and-seek. When I was a kid, I used to play this game with my parents. These days, I do it with both Jed’s and my sister, Christy’s, kids, but I’ve never had this much fun. That’s because Becca plays the game with more excited enthusiasm than the kids. She’s a totally different woman—throwing her head back and laughing, joking teasing, tickling.

  It dawns on me that she didn’t have this growing up. I don’t know her whole story, but the bit I know tells me that smiling, laughing, and tickling didn’t happen often. So, now, she’s soaking it all up and giving it right back to these kids. It’s a thing of beauty.

  This doesn’t take into account that, after a while, she pulls me into her fold. She grabs my hand and laughs without abandon when I do something goofy for the kids. Christ, she doesn’t stop smiling once, and it’s nothing but genuine, even when aimed at me.

  It’s not just a thing of beauty. It’s beautifully sw
eet.

  My girl—pure sweet.

  Now, it’s Nick’s turn to seek, and he’s a speed counter, so as he fires off numbers faster than he eats jelly beans, Becca and I rush around to hide the other three. I pop Ashley in the shower and tell her to be quiet as Becca hides the other two somewhere in the room the girls share.

  Nick gets to eighteen when I get out of the bathroom just as Becca emerges from the bedroom. My blood is pumping, and I’m grinning from ear to ear. Becca giggles as our eyes dart around, looking for a spot to hide.

  “Ready or not, here I come!”

  I spot a closet door, open it, and grab Becca’s hand to drag her in with me before closing the door, shrouding us in darkness.

  Seconds tick by with our breaths coming out in heavy pants, the excitement still pumping through my body, when I realize that this closet is way too small for both of us. Her body is plastered against mine. Her face is at my chest, her hot breath seeping through my shirt, and it’s killing me. It’s not because I don’t want her exactly where she is, but because I don’t think she’s ready for what it’s doing to me. I can’t see a fucking thing, so every exhale and every movement is amplified in a way that’s making my dick hard.

  “Thanks for the hiding spot,” she whispers against my shirt, making me grit my teeth.

  “Don’t mention it,” I whisper back.

  She smells so damn good, the scent of oranges and lavender permeating the air around us. I suck in a breath when she slowly, hesitantly snakes her arms around my waist.

  “It’s more comfortable than having them squished between us.” She tenses her arms, accentuating her words.

  “Mmhmm,” I mumble.

  After a few seconds, she says quietly, “I forgot how good you smell.”

  Fucking Christ.

  Maybe I was wrong about her not being ready. My heart hammers, and my semi-hard cock jerks.

  Tits sliding across my chest, she lifts up and gives my collarbone a touch of her tongue.

  Fuck.

  The feel of her tongue is soft, hot, wet. My chubby grows harder, and it takes everything in me not to drive my hands into her soft hair and take her mouth.

  “Sweets, you sure you’re ready to go there?”

  “I just wanted to see if you taste as good as I remember.” She glides back down.

  The disappointment moving through me does nothing to stop my dick from throbbing. “Fuck, Becca. Don’t do that again if you’re not ready for that shit. There’s only so much a man can take.”

  She’s silent.

  I try to ease my dick down, but it’s pressed against her hard stomach, and I know she can feel it. There’s no way she could miss it, and the idea that she’s aware of my dick is not helping me find my calm. In fact, it’s the opposite. It’s been six years, but I know how good she tastes, how well she takes direction in bed, how fucking phenomenal her tight pussy sliding up and down my cock as I hold her hands looks and feels.

  Without thinking, I tangle both my hands in her hair, which is longer than before but no less soft. When she sucks in air, my hips jut forward, my dick rubbing against her tight abs.

  A moan catches in her throat, so I tilt her head up. I move my head downward at a snail’s pace, giving her time to push me away.

  A half inch from her mouth, feeling her heavy breath against my lips, I ask, “You sure?”

  As her answer, she closes the distance. The instant her lips touch mine, fire sweeps through me, and I’m all over her. With my tongue devouring and my hands on her ass, I take everything, and she gives it. Her nails dig into my shoulders as she moans.

  The door swings open, and the light is blinding, even behind closed lids.

  “Found you!”

  My Picture

  My heart jumps into my throat, strangling my yelp. I leap back, but Zach’s fingers are stuck in my hair, so he stumbles forward with me. I barely miss Nick and the kids in my jumbled closet escape as I trip over my feet, flailing my arms. Zach’s hand finally detangles from my hair and reaches out to grab me, but momentum brings us down to the ground with him braced above me.

  There’s a beat of silence as we stare at each other, my throat still tight. For a moment back there, I forgot. I forgot about control. I forgot about my plans and why I need to stick to them. I forgot this thing with Zach is fake. Laughing and having fun with the kids, with him, I let my guard down. I gave in to the heat pumping through my body, the feel of his hard body pressed close to mine, his growing cock on my belly, and the promise of release.

  I lost control.

  Shit.

  Pushing on his chest, I say, “Lemme up.”

  He scans my face as I struggle to shut down. I need to squash the sudden and very fucking unwanted urge to have him for real, to trust him and give him a genuine shot. I can’t do that even if I could trust him. I learned my lesson, and it won’t happen again—never, ever.

  “Don’t.” His fierce whisper makes me blink.

  “Don’t what?” I feign confusion.

  “I had her. Give her back.”

  I narrow my eyes, genuinely not following him. “What?”

  “My Becca—the sweet, open, fun-loving Becca, who lights up with just a kiss. I see it in your eyes. You’re taking her from me. So, don’t.” With the last word, his hard face dips closer.

  My lips part to mouth off even though I don’t quite know what form that will take, but Alison breaks in, “Is Zach your boyfriend, Auntie Becca?”

  I whip my head around to see Alison with a huge smile on her face, her hands clasped under her chin. She looks hopeful.

  Damn.

  I say, “No,” just as Zach says, “Yes.”

  Looking back at Zach, I widen my eyes and scrunch my lips, silently saying, Don’t push me right now.

  His gaze drops to my mouth and then back at my eyes. His lips slowly split, giving me that smile that never seems to fail in sending a jolt to my pussy. Then, he starts chuckling, and that feels nice. With his huge body covering me, shaking feels real good, too good.

  I need to be out of this situation—like, now.

  “Movie night!” I blurt.

  Zach jerks back, and his eyebrows pull together. “What?”

  His question is nearly drowned out when the girls shout, “Yay!”

  Then, they disappear to, I assume, their room to get jammies.

  “Lemme up.”

  He sighs and shakes his head, but he hefts himself off me. He offers his hand, so I let him pull me up.

  Once I’m righted, Nick asks, “What’s movie night?”

  Moving to Nick and Ashley, I take a knee. I smile big, and with my voice high, I say, “We’re gonna put on jammies, make a big bed on the living room floor, and eat popcorn while watching a movie.”

  When Nick’s handsome little face lights up, my heart warms, and I smile. Ashley claps her pudgy little hands as she bounces up and down, making her chestnut pigtails sway.

  Nick turns to Zach. “Can we have movie night, Uncle Zach? Please?”

  Before he can answer, Ashley starts chanting, “Moobee night! Moobee night!”

  Nick joins in, “Movie night! Movie night!”

  I can’t help the little giggle that escapes my lips. These two are fucking adorable. I peek up at Zach to see his shoulders shaking from his soft laughter. He meets my eyes with his dancing ones and grins. My clit tingles.

  Okay. Need to get out of this situation.

  “I’m gonna go help the girls with their jammies.”

  Once jammies are on, we make a bed of blankets on the floor. Then, popcorn is popped, and Sleeping Beauty is playing. I settle the kids in, which might be more difficult to accomplish than world peace.

  I love kids. I love playing with them. I love tickling them. I love doing just about everything with them. I love it because I get to be a kid, something I never did. I didn’t realize this about me until Alison hit the babbling stage. I loved her the moment I saw her, but when she started jabbering and giggling, I
was all about the baby talk. I did it for hours. Then, when she started tummy time, I’d be right with her under that jungle thing, making goofy faces in the mirrors and whacking rattles.

  But right now, as I sit on the couch with my tablet, searching for the perfect food truck, I’m about to commit murder. The I-need-to-go-potty, I’m-thirsty, and she’s-touching-me complaints along with the giggling, arguing about space, and bouncing around while Zach lays on the floor encouraging them has my eye twitching. They’re finally settled and in varying stages of sleep, but Zach doesn’t seem to like that.

  “I swear to Christ, if you tickle one more kid, I’m taking a sledgehammer to your nut sack,” I grit the words through my teeth.

  “What’s a nut sack?” Alison asks.

  Fuck.

  Zach bursts out laughing, and I glare at him before I turn to Alison.

  “Don’t worry about it, baby girl. It’s just something boys have.”

  “So, I don’t have a nut sack?”

  My lips press together to stop the laughter from bubbling out before I say, “No.”

  “Do I have a nut sack?” Nick asks, making Zach laugh harder.

  “Ask your mommy.”

  That seems to settle the nut-sack discussion.

  Thank Christ.

  I tap my tablet, searching through the selection to find the perfect truck for the right price. Thirty seconds later, in my peripheral vision, I catch Zach reaching toward Ashley. If I could shoot fire out of my eyes, he’d be burned to a crisp.

  “Swear to Christ, Zach…” My voice is low.

  He meets my eyes and grins, but he continues to reach for the little girl. After an hour of trying to settle these kids and keep them settled, I’m desperate. Clearly, he’s sick. Only a sick, sick man would take pleasure in using innocent small children to drive me insane.

  I switch tactics. “Seriously, can you please stop? They’re tired, and they’re gonna turn whiny soon. That’s my kryptonite. I can’t handle a whiny kid. Legit crying? Fine, no problem. But no whining. It’s so brain-melting that it should be used at Gitmo.”

  He pauses and tilts his head, his eyes narrowing in thought. “I’m willing to negotiate losing fun time with my niece and nephew and their new friends.” He pauses. “Are you?”