STONED

Josh and Leelee

 

 

 

LEELEE AND I HAD GOTTEN hitched on Thanksgiving Day, but we’d decided to celebrate our anniversary the day before just because . . . holidays.

Didn’t matter to me one way or the other. As long as Leelee was happy. Plus it meant twice as much sex. Not that we still weren’t fucking like crazy four years later.

This year, though, no fancy restaurant, no night in a hotel . . . I’d arranged something completely different to celebrate.

I just hoped I didn’t bomb out completely.

The phone rang on the counter, the waiting room of Stone’s Auto Service packed to the gills as usual. Ray—the blond fuzzy bear of a man—had a cell tucked to his ear while he typed details into a computer and dealt with another customer at the same time.

“Stone’s, at your service,” I answered the jingling jangling thing.

“Joshy!” Ma sounded breathless. “I just wanted to let you know we’re running a few minutes . . . ah . . . late.”

“Ma? You okay?”

Ray finished his call, glancing over at me with bushy eyebrows raised.

“Oh, oh, Oh Dear Lord!” My ma gasped.

I cringed.

“Tucker Freeman. I told you to stop that!” Then I heard the sound of a whack—the kind of thwack she’d give me on the back of my head . . . often. Followed by Tucker’s low dirty chuckle.

Fuckin’ A. Do not wanna know what the elders are gettin’ up to.

“Great, Ma.” Rolling my eyes while Ray pumped his hips obscenely, I said, “Just . . . whatever. See you when you get here.”

Gross.

I slammed the phone down like it had an STD.

“They’re still goin’ at it like jackrabbits?” Ray asked, smirking.

“Shut it, jackass.” Then I whacked him on the back of the head with a clipboard before handing the work order over.

I stalked through the door behind the counter, into the garage where the scent of solvents filled my nose like a bouquet and the sounds of air compressors hit me like a symphony.

What? My best friend—Nicky—and my wife—Leelee—were both romance writers. I read their shit. I could be poetic, too.

With schools and preschools on vacation—because of holidays—I’d had JJ and Josie at the garage all day. Not that it was unusual for them to be getting into everything here. I usually had them right after school so Leelee could fit in a whole day’s work writing. And also, free babysitting in the form of the knuckle draggers: Mick, Ray, Javier, Rayce, and Gerald. Gerald, the big black dude, at that very moment tossed my precious daughter so high into the air I worried about zero gravity before he caught her in hands the size of hubcaps.

And my heart stampeded in my chest.

Jesus Christ.

“Please don’t drop my baby girl,” I gritted out the words through my teeth before heading toward JJ, who squatted down with his butt on his heels as he watched Mick tighten the lug nuts on a new tire with a quick spin and flick of his wrist.

“Hey, kid.” I laid my palm on his head, smoothing down the cowlick he’d never outgrown.

JJ peered back with the same hazel eyes as mine. “Mick said I can do the next one.”

“Did he now?”

Mick tweaked the bill of his perpetual baseball cap. “Someone gotta take over after you retire, old man.”

“Fuc—screw you. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

I watched: Leelee’s and my children, the grease monkeys, the well-oiled machinery of life carrying on.

Gerald tossed Josie again, and when she landed in his upraised arms, she grabbed onto his shiny bald head, squealing, “Ger Ger!”

Ray shoved his face into the garage. “Hey, y’all. Gigi’s here!”

“Gigi!” Josie, my tiny little redheaded sprite, giggled.

“Yes! Jamma!” No longer the toddler he used to be, JJ still called Ma that funny name.

And he still frickin’ adored Jamma. ’Course he did. She spoled them both with presents and sweets and trips to the cinema to watch movies I wouldn’t let them see.

I smiled, stepping out of the open bay door. Then I scowled, seeing Tucker beside Ma.

Okay. They’d been together a fair few years.

They were married.

Ma deserved a life. To be a woman. The sexin’ shit I did not need to know about, though.

Painting a smile on my face, I hauled wriggling Josie up into the cradle of one arm, held JJ’s hand in my other—even though he was getting too old to be babied and never failed to remind me of that fact.

I brought my kids over to the couple who beamed like they hadn’t just seen JJ and Josie at dinner last night.

I set Josie on her feet, and she toddled over to Ma.

“Gimme some sugar.” She leaned down to take her granddaughter in her arms, spreading kisses all over her face.

JJ—the little man—shook Tucker’s hand while the old man’s mustache twitched with a grin. Then the two switched, Ma and Leelee the only ones JJ let cuddle him anymore. And Josie squealed delightedly when Tuck kissed her because the whiskers tickled.

“Be good for Grandma and Gramps.”

Gramps winked at me when I said that.

I smiled somewhat less begrudgingly. He was damn good to my ma, but I still liked to harass him sometimes.

“These two are gonna help me and Tucker bake the pies for tomorrow,” Ma said as Tucker took Josie’s diaper bag from my hand.

Baking. That was the only way I wanted to think about Tucker, my mom, and pie in the same sentence.

I gave Ma a kiss, watched while they settled the kids in the back of her shiny new Merc. Then I leaned in through Josie’s open door.

“Daddy loves you.” I puckered up, hands on her cheeks almost swallowing her whole head.

“Mwah!” She liked to enunciate her very sloppy kisses.

The kid reached across, granting me a fist bump. I couldn’t resist ruffling his hair one last time.

“Daaad.” He shrank back while I chuckled.

Standing in the middle of the parking lot, I watched them drive away, Tucker at the wheel after he’d helped Ma into her seat and shut the door for her.

Yeah. She could’ve done way worse.

I rubbed my chest, the ache not one of pain like it used to be.

An hour later, I ushered the final customer from the garage, happy as a clam with our brand of lowcountry hospitality and southern service.

I’d just finished cleaning up some in the washroom when Ray hollered, “Hey, Stone! Your lady’s here.”

Strolling into the front area where the whole crew was clocking out, I spied Leelee through the window. “Great. Now y’all get the fuck outta here.”

“Thanksgiving at Gigi and Tucker’s tomorrow?” Gerald asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Get lost already.” I scowled impatiently.

“Hey, jefe!”

“What?” I growled at Javier.

“She’s gonna love it.” He winked at me with those bottomless black eyes. “She looks muy caliente tonight.”

“You’re gay.” I huffed. “How would you know?”

“That’s exactly how he knows.” Ray set off a round of chuckles while Javier fumed in Spanish.

“I’m bringing Jules tomorrow,” I heard Mick mention as they frigging finally departed.

Jules Gem, Jesus Christ. The mouthy, ballsy head-honcho from LitLuv Con had hooked up with Mick. I wished him all the luck with that.

I exited after them, leaning against the door, watching through hooded eyes as Leelee greeted all the men in her usual easygoing manner.

Easygoing . . . yes.

Fucking muy caliente? Good God. The woman was gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.

Leelee looked even more luscious than usual. The dress I’d never seen before. It was tight on top and swishy around her legs. The high heels made her curvy legs even longer. Her strawberry blonde hair flowed all loose and wavy. And as soon as she approached me, I saw her green eyes held a mischievous glint.

Before she got to me, two of the resident old geezers, who hung out regularly at Stone’s and played chess at the table out front, waylaid my woman.

“Miss Leelee, care for a game before we pack it in?” Jasper wheedled, while Buddy stood up from his rickety chair.

Buddy took her hand, kissed it, and she gave a tinkling laugh.

“I’d love to, but I believe I’ve been spoken for this evening.” Biting her bottom lip, she glanced at me.

I stood up straighter. That was my cue. “Beat it!”

Buddy and his cronies laughed and slapped their thighs and fucking finally packed up their games and headed toward the Caddy that sat in my parking lot pretty much every afternoon.

“So”—my Leelee swayed over to me, and my mouth went dry, my cock bone-hard—“where are you taking me?”

“Ummm.” I rubbed a hand against my chest. “Surprise?” Christ, this is a really dumbass idea. And I’d let the fucking meatheads convince me it was awesome.

Leaning down, I cupped the back of her neck and eased my mouth over hers for a slow, hot, luxurious kiss.

“Mmm.” Her hand smoothed up and down the front of my coveralls, feeling the sturdy muscles beneath. “Do you need to change?”

“Not exactly?” I cringed.

Then I took her hand in mine, laced our fingers together. The small touch tingled right up my arm then straight down to my hard-on. Inside the garage, I locked the door, flicked the OPEN sign over.

“Are you going to clue me in on this great big anniversary plan?” Leelee asked.

Great. Big. Anniversary. Fuck up?

I swallowed down the stone lodged in my throat. “How ’bout I just show you?”

Before she had a chance to answer, I guided her down the hall.

Holding my breath, I opened the office door.

The interior was lit solely by candles, the desk shoved out of the way, a little table set up with real china instead of Chinet, flowers everywhere. Javier and his hubby Tate had helped me get this all together.

Leelee’s eyes widened. Her lips parted. She gasped.

Walking in—swish sway—she bent to smell one of the flowers. “These aren’t the usual roses you hand out to your female customers.”

“Nope.” I started to grin, thinking maybe I hadn’t been a massive screw up after all.

Keeping one eye on her, I flipped my phone on, selected the playlist I wanted, and Nat King Cole’s “For All We Know” filled the office with music.

“Why, Josh, you romantic, you.” Leelee faced me, smile shining. “Our song.”

The first one we’d ever danced to. “You know it, babe.”

“In your coveralls?”

“You like my coveralls.” To prove the point, I unzipped to the waist, bare underneath.

The tat over my left pec was even larger now, expanded to include a butterfly over a blossom for little Josie, to go with the chrome and the heart for JJ, the songbirds and ribbons for Leelee.

“I love your coveralls,” she all but purred, and the tone went straight to my groin.

I goddamn quivered.

“Our anniversary . . . at the garage.” She kissed the side of my throat, and I wrapped my arms around her, moving us to the song that had pretty much started us down this awesome, magical, wild road.

I palmed her ass before skimming my hands to her waist. “Because it’s where we got it on after you came back to me.”

“The famous LitLuv photoshoot. How could I forget?” Her fingertips trailed through the hair on my chest then roamed lower.

Not low enough to stroke my straining cock, though.

“Want me to do another photo session?” I took her earlobe between my lips, lightly flicking it with my tongue.

“Only if I’m handling the camera this time,” she whispered breathlessly, pelvis digging harder against my groin.

I groaned both at the sensation and the idea. “That can be arranged.”

When the song ended, another one started, Chet Baker that time, and I wanted nothing more than to lay Leelee out across my desk and shred her pretty dress to tatters so I could bury myself in her body.

“Food?” Voice gruff, I waved toward the table.

“First?”

“For once.” After seating her, I lifted hot covered plates from the thermal container, presenting her with a variety of our favorites, hush puppies and fried oysters and sweet cornbread.

I poured wine for her, popped a beer for me, but she only took small sips. Me, too. I was thirsty for something else.

I barely glanced at my plate. I hardly tasted a thing. Our eyes kept returning to one another, lingering longer each time. And we held hands, tracing fingers and lines of knuckles and hills of palms.

Shivers worked all over my body.

Leelee’s nipples tightened visibly in her divine dress.

Sexual tension grew at the same rate as my engorged cock.

We lasted approximately fifteen minutes before overwhelming hunger—for something other than food—beat out the need for nourishment.

I wanted her body beneath mine.

“You ’bout done?” I asked, voice rough.

“Thank God, yes.”

“Time for fucking?” I quickly stood, almost overturning the small table.

“Definitely.” She grasped my hand, and her lips crashed into mine as soon as she gained her feet.

With a muttered curse, I pulled away, lips on fire, a fire that singed all the way to my balls.

When I tugged her from the office that time I wasn’t exactly gentle.

“Where are we going now?” She pulled back, stomping her foot, my fiery little redhead. “Please tell me we’re not going to some damn hotel or—”

I shut her up by slinging her up into my arms, lengthening my strides.

Leelee threw her head back, laughing gloriously.

“Remember when we drove to Shreveport, and I got so pissed because you trashed the inside of my car?”

She started struggling.

I held her tighter.

“I did not trash the inside of—”

My turn to laugh, and I did so, all the way from my belly while I strode into the garage bay.

No candles, too much possibility for explosions what with all the gasoline and oil, and the only explosions I wanted were to come when I pistoned in and out of Leelee’s hot wet pussy.

But more flowers, and low lights picked up my gleaming, shiny, inferno-red ’69 Camaro.

“What happened after I got mad at you?” I nuzzled Leelee’s soft neck, licking at the silky sensitive skin.

“You fucked me on the hood of the Camaro?” Her voice came out a breathless whisper.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, God.” She moaned, and I’d barely even touched her yet.

Sliding her down my body, I caught her lips with mine, crushing her against my chest. She teetered in the high heels, and I hauled her up and into me, forcing her belly to cradle my rampant cock. Tasting her sweet tongue and low moans, I dragged my hands up, up, up to balance her tits with my thumbs rubbing across the crests peaked inside her dress.

Pushing her breasts higher, I broke from her mouth, bent to the mounds. Sucking. Licking. Biting.

Searching frantically for buttons. Or a zipper. Or what-the-fuck-ever held the pretty confection together.

“You’re not going to rip this dress, are you?” Her green eyes, dilated nearly black, drifted to mine.

I groaned deep in my throat. “You just had to say that, didn’t you?”

“Tempted?” Her sultry pose, with one heel kicked up and a hand on her hip, made the temptation even worse.

My groan turned into a growl. Pushing my fingers into the top of the dress, I pulled hard, rending the dress right . . . down . . . the . . . middle all the way to the hem.

“Josh!”

“You asked for it.” Voice hard, face hard, cock even harder, I tore the remnants completely off. “Buy you a new one. Just like I did last time.”

Then I stood back, watching the way her panting breaths caused her tits to tremble in the bra, which supported her generous tits in a mouthwatering way. The panties were French cut—I’d definitely boned up on my lingerie since getting together with her—and matching.

“You hot foxy babe.” I swiped a hand across my probably drooling mouth then shrugged out of the top of my coveralls, tying the dangling sleeves low on my waist.

Circling my lady, I stood behind her. She arched like she was gonna twist toward me, but I stopped her with a hand on the swell of her hip.

She sucked in a breath.

I moved her long beautiful hair, sweeping it over one shoulder then trailed fingertips down the center of her back. “I love you,” I whispered, voice raw.

“I . . .” She stopped when I flicked open the clasp of her bra and it fell to the floor I’d had the dudes clean so well this afternoon it was practically spit-shined.

“I?” Reaching around her, I cupped her tremendous tits, loving the weight, the bounciness, the fact they were heavier now than before she’d had Josie.

“Love you, Josh.” Her head dipped down.

My lips landed on the nape of her neck.

My fingers traveled down her belly, skidded to her hips. I kept contact with her flesh—kissing, touching—as I rounded to her front. Bending down, I lowered the panties so slowly I didn’t know who was anticipating them coming off more. Her or me.

Bullshit.

Definitely me.

With the silk things stowed in my pocket where my oil rag usually resided, I glanced up.

Such a nice pussy. Set off by the arrow of fine red hair. A glistening set of lips I blew across, and Leelee reached down, grabbing my shoulders.

I stood up, skimming all the way against her, my hairy chest and hard frame coursing along her soft curves and softer skin.

I left the heels on, natch.

“Love your nipples.” With that I attacked those pale pink buttons, and she dropped back, bracing herself on the Camaro’s hood.

I pulled one tip taut between my teeth, running my thumb over the other nipple, watching both rise steadily. When I had them each wet, redder, and Leelee gasped and moaned and gyrated, looking for something hard and heavy to invade her cunt, I gave one last lick.

Then I set her completely on the car, her gloriously creamy skin offset by the glossy red paintjob of the Camaro.

Totally naked, pin-up worthy . . . my wife.

I wanted to paint her head to toe in my come. Bathe her in it.

“Josh?” She watched me—my face had to be all planes and angles as I looked at her splayed body.

I said nothing, just stepped up, bent down, and buried my face between her thighs. Such a lush pussy. Never tasted anything better in my whole friggin’ life. I lapped up her center with the flat of my tongue. I flickered at her clit, watching her belly tremble. I hauled her up by her ass and ate my real anniversary dinner, screwing my tongue into her. Taking her clit between two fingers to play with the tiny nubbin.

Loved it when she yanked on my hair, dug her pointy heels into my shoulders.

Loved it more when she creamed all over my face and I just kept slaking my greedy need at her hot little pussy through another orgasm that almost had her climbing the walls.

Satisfied with a job well done, I kissed her quivering tummy, her hipbone, the undersides of both tits then both pointed pink nipples.

Finally I landed on her mouth, and she came at me forcefully, sucking on my tongue, rasping it gently with her teeth, drawing my lip between hers. Her hands roved all over my torso and shoulders before she hit the coveralls at my waist and shoved me back.

“Take them off,” she ordered, lying there atop my car all swollen and wet and hair a hot wild mess.

“Yes, ma’am.” Unzipping, I kicked off my boots, peeling everything down.

Cock jutting, precome dripping, balls boiling.

“Lay back down, greedy wench,” I demanded when she made a move to slide to her knees and suck my dick.

She reclined, breath rushing, cheeks heated, tits heaving.

Prowling between her spread legs, I tugged her roughly so her ass was on the edge. “Gonna fuck you so hard.”

One hand on her waist to hold her still, I fisted the root of my cock and lined up.

Delving into her eyes, I drove forward with my hips.

Full throttle.

No stopping.

Balling her with a raw roaring thrust until my nads bounced off her ass.

“Fuck!” One of Leelee’s hands scrabbled to the windshield, the other landed on my wrist, nails biting my flesh.

My vision went wavy. My body felt centered on my meaty cock. My hands gathered her ass to pull her up, faster and rougher.

Her sheath rippled around me. Her back arched. Her voice rang out as she came a third time.

The tightness inside tripled. Her heat and wetness climbed to new levels. Practically crawling onto the hood myself, I dropped my chest to her breasts and lashed my tongue inside her mouth. Every plunge inside her made me grunt, her moan.

My hips pummeled. My ass tightened. My groin flexed.

I bowed up, pinning her with my cock as I kicked off inside her, coming so shockingly hard I wondered if we’d wreck the Camaro.

Dent it at least.

Chugging out a ragged chuckle, I almost smothered Leelee by dropping flat on top of her.

I managed—just—to roll both of us over, almost running out of car hood.

“That was—”

“So good, right?” I finished her sentence.

“I’m still breathless. I might be brainless too.”

“Doubt that.” I opened my eyes, squinting at her, her head resting on my bicep.

I kissed her nose, and her eyes flittered open.

“I still can’t believe you’re mine.” Stroking her hair, I rained kisses from her neck to her lips down to her tits.

She wrapped her hand around mine and thumbed the wedding ring that linked us together for all to see. “I feel the same way.”

****

Aaand an hour later we pulled up at Ma’s in the Camaro to pick up JJ and Josie. Good thing it was Turkey Day tomorrow and no school because it was so late.

Ma and Tucker had offered to have them overnight, of course, but we didn’t like to leave them too much. As it was, the grandparents took them at least one night a week.

I’d wiped down the hood of the car before we drove out of the garage—come and sweat and pussy juice—calling Leelee my dirty girl.

She’d socked me with a punch to the abdomen.

Then she’d walked from the bay, completely nekkie except for the heels.

She’d returned minutes later, washed off, wearing . . . a pair of Stone’s Auto Body dark blue coveralls.

Damn. I’d wanted to do her all over again.

“We’re here!” I walked into the house Ma shared with Tuck, the one I’d convinced her to buy all those years ago in Rivertown.

And we weren’t greeted by Ma or Tucker, but by the four fucking Dobermans—Cleo, Baby, Queen, and Lady.

Like I hadn’t had enough to worry about with Nicky’s Rottie, Viper.

Tucker appeared, corralling the purebreds, then Ma entered the living room, gaze zooming to us.

But she didn’t bat an eyelash when she took us both in, both in coveralls, Leelee’s complemented by the high heels. “I’m not even gonna ask.”

“That’s probably wise.” Leelee hugged and kissed first Ma then Tuck.

“And in return I won’t drill you about how much sugar you fed the kids.” I kissed Ma then scowled at the Dobermans.

JJ ran into the room, and I swear he’d grown another inch taller in the space of five hours.

He made a beeline for Leelee, like I was worse than chopped liver. “Mom!”

Yep. He’d started calling her mom right after we’d tied the knot. Grabbed at my heart again.

It was incredible. When joy got that big, it filled your entire world so much, and nothing ever looked the same again.

“Ma-ma!” Josie waddled over, but not before hugging on every single one of the Dobie bitches that were at least twice her size and ferocious man-eaters.

Man-eating dogs that nuzzled her between them like she was one of the pack.

Fuck me.

Then she lifted her arms to Leelee, who quickly picked her up, smooshing kisses all over her pretty little face.

Yeah. Both the kids were totally gaga and grabby hands over Leelee.

Couldn’t blame them. I was, too.

Later, at our house in the Old Village, I waited for JJ to use the john, sitting on his bed, inspecting his bookshelf that no longer held princess tales or anything remotely baby-like.

Christ. I didn’t want them to grow up so fast.

He dragged ass, heading inside, wearing freakin’ boy-sized boxers instead of the superhero skivvies from days of old. A yawn stretched his lips. His hair stuck up on end.

Pulling the blankets back, I waited for him to haul butt into bed.

I raised my hand to give him a high five. “Up high, kid.”

Instead—drowsy and sleepy—he wrapped his arms around my waist, murmuring, “’Night, Dad. Love you.”

I patted his back, my heart motherfucking lodged in my throat.

“’G’night, kid.” I bent my nose to his hair, breathing in his scent just once. “Sleep tight.”

After turning off his light, I looked back . . . just once.

Then I checked on Josie. She was all flopped out in her crib we’d be getting rid of soon.

Too soon.

Exhausted, my baby girl didn’t even murmur when I pulled a custom-made blanket decorated in pink Camaro emblems up to her neck.

I leaned down real low to smudge my nose against hers, then breathed in the last of her addictive baby scent.

Fifteen minutes later, I’d shucked my boots, grabbed a couple glasses of water, turned the lights low in the bedroom, and taken off my coveralls, making sure to hide Leelee’s French-cut silk panties.

Waiting in bed after brushing my teeth, I began to wonder if she’d bailed on me.

Didn’t have to wonder long.

My eyes popped wide when one nude leg rounded the bedroom doorway.

Then the rest of her.

Bare.

Except for—good fucking God—my fedora on her head perched at a sexy, jaunty, still want some angle.

“I have a surprise for you too.” She put one foot in front of the other, slinking toward the bed.

“I can see that.” Dick hard in two seconds flat.

“How do you feel about number three?”

“Like third base? Fuck yeah I wanna eat your pussy again.”

“Not that number three.”

Huh. “You mean like number two? I know Josie can fill her diaper with a double deuce like she’s a trucker and not a tot, but do you really think it’s cool to make fun of our daughter’s doodies?”

“Josh.” Leelee started crawling up onto the bed, tits mesmerizing me as they swayed back and forth.

“Yeah?”

“Stop while you’re ahead.” Her nipples brushed against my thighs, and all I could do was stare and nod.

She settled on my abdomen, breasts against my chest, my cock thick and butting the crevice of her ass.

“When I said number three, I meant another baby.”

Her words spun through me like an electric shock.

Bolting upright, I held her to me with an arm around her waist, my gaze running all over her face to read the truth in her soft smile and shining eyes.

“We’re having another baby?”

“Yes.” She kissed me with barely a brush of lips.

“I’m gonna need to get a bigger tat.”

“You’re definitely going to have to get some more ink.”

“That’s a lot to be thankful for.” I was thrilled, possibly on the verge of crying, probably gonna have a panic attack when I thought about all the times I’d worried about the kid and Josie. And, oh Christ, Leelee going through childbirth again.

I swallowed. Blinked hard. Tried to settle my shit down and just experience the . . . love.

Crushing her to me, I tossed the fedora across the room.

“So we’ll tell everyone?” I murmured against her hair, and I hoped the next one was a strawberry blonde, too.

Tears pricked at the back of my eyes. Leaning back, I kissed all over Leelee’s face.

“Tomorrow,” she said.

“Thanksgiving.” My heart boomed in my chest and so did hers.

“Happy Anniversary.” Leelee grinned, linking her hands behind my neck.

“Damn, babe. I love you.”

“I love you too, Josh.” She kiss-tickled my throat with a fluttering of her lips and tongue. “Now, make love to me again.”

“At your service.” I laid her down on the bed, rising above her. “Always.”

 

Hell on wheels met hell in high heels . . . And I was along for the ride of my life.