A knocking sound startles me awake, and I roll over to see my mother-in-law, Kalli, standing at my back porch door. Her hand is on her hip, and her glasses are focused directly on me. I don’t know how she got on my back deck, but I don’t question it. She’s Kalli Huntington. She gets whatever she wants, no matter what that is. If she can’t do it herself, she hires it done. Slipping out of bed, I stumble over to the door and open it, not waiting to see if she walks in or not before I turn around and crawl back to my comfortable bed.
“Well, now, this is new,” she states as she sits down in the chair across from me, crossing her legs. I glance at the red-soles of her low heels and focus on that, instead of her face. “You want to tell me what my son did to make you run from him?”
My eyes snap up to hers, and I reach down to the photograph that’s on the floor and hold it out for her. She gently removes it from my hand, and I hear her hum as she takes in the way her son is fucking that whore. That young whore. Maybe her age shouldn’t affect me so much. He’s always fucked whores and, in general, they’re all fairly young. Perhaps it stings a little more because my father and Graham both made mention of how I’m now old.
“I can understand why you unplugged and hid out here,” she says. “Who gave this to you?”
I shift my eyes away from her before I bring them back and answer, “My father.”
“Why do you think he did that?” she asks, sounding far too sober and logical for my taste.
I have a feeling she only has more to say, and she knows the answer anyway.
“He wants me to leave him and marry some sixty-year old guy, so that he can take over his business. He’s willing to sell his business to my father, but the trade-off is me.”
She snorts and shakes her head, “You’re playing perfectly into your father’s hands.”
I agree, knowing that she’s right; that is, if I were going to leave Sloane over this. If infidelity was a sole reason to leave, I would have left a long time ago. Unfortunately, I’m too stupid in love with Sloane, and I always have been. I knew he’d been with this girl, the way he brushed me off when I confronted him about it after she spewed her nonsense in the grocery store, he couldn’t deny it. It doesn’t take away the hurt at having it shoved in my face, yet again.
“I’m not leaving, Sloane. I just needed some time to be alone,” I shrug.
“You know that this man, fresh out of prison, he is not the man you have now, don’t you?” she asks.
I nod, releasing a long exhale. I know she’s right, and yet, that doesn’t make my heart or my stomach stop twisting and aching. “I know.”
A loud pounding on the front door makes me jump, and my eyes widen as she gives me a small smile. To her credit, she looks at least a bit sorry. I know she must have called Sloane. Though how he made it here that fast, I don’t know.
“Work it out,” she says, reaching to take my hand as I sit up in the bed. She gives my hand a squeeze as she stands, and then she walks toward the front door.
I know she’s going to let Sloane into the house. I’m stuck in my spot. Sitting on the edge of the bed, my breathing shallow as I wait for Sloane to appear.
My eyes stay trained to the ground in front of me as his shadow darkens my vision. I don’t look up. I can’t. If I do, then I’ll surely cry.
Sloane doesn’t give me an opportunity to not look at him. He falls down to his knees in front of me and cups my cheeks with his hands, gently forcing my face up. When my eyes meet his light green ones, the tears fill them. I’m unable to control my tears or my trembling bottom lip.
“Sunshine,” he rasps.
I shake my head as I try to control myself. I don’t want to hear anything, no apologies, no promises, no more. “I’m tired of hurting,” I whisper truthfully.
“If I could take it back, if I could take them all back, I would. Fuck, baby, I would take it all back—every single one of them. None of them mean anything to me. I don’t even…”
I stop him before he continues. “Don’t tell me that they meant nothing to you, or that you can’t remember them. It just makes me feel even shitter. Because if I was something to you, if I meant anything to you, you wouldn’t have done that to me. If they meant nothing, then you wouldn’t have been with them—especially if I meant even the slightest bit of anything to you,” I whisper.
“It wasn’t ever about them. Fucking shit, it was about the dope. It’s always been the goddamn high,” he practically screams, his eyes showing every ounce of pain. “Christ, sunshine. Don’t do this. I can’t excuse my actions, but baby, you know—you know that I would change all that shit if I could.”
His thumbs wipe my falling tears away, and I allow him because I love him. I always have and I always will. Even if that love sometimes hurts, apparently, I’ll take the pain. For whatever reason, I go back for more, again and again.
“I know, Sloane. I love you so much and seeing that picture hurt. I just needed a few hours to wallow in my own bullshit. I’m okay now,” I say, giving him a smile.
“Never again, sunshine. Since getting back with you, I haven’t touched another woman. I swear to you, baby. I wouldn’t lie about that, not ever again,” he murmurs.
Reaching up, I cup his cheek. “I know. I believe you and I trust you,” I whisper. “I’m not mad. It was a surprise to see, and it knocked me on my ass for a minute. I’m okay.”
I close my eyes and gasp when his lips touch mine. He kisses me sweetly, gently, and he doesn’t push further, his teeth nipping my bottom lip before he pulls away and rests his forehead against mine.
“I love you, Imogen. I want to erase that part of my past, not for me, but for you. It kills me that I hurt you for so long. I was nothing but a selfish bastard, always looking for a high of some kind. I never wanted to lose you, either. You grounded me to some degree. I treated you like shit for so fucking long, and I’m so goddamn sorry, sunshine. All these years, and I wasted them, fucking wasted them and hurt the shit out of you.”
“I love you, too, Sloane. When you’re alone with me, and you’re my Sloane. It’s hard for me to love Soar, but I’m starting to,” I admit.
He lets out a heavy breath and his hands move from my face to the outsides of my thighs. He pushes my dress up to my hips. I suck in a breath when his hands move to my ass and he pulls me to the edge of the bed. His mouth opens, and he blows hot air on the material of my panties, on my center. He nips me, and then he sucks. I feel his tongue press against my clit, causing me to moan and fist my fingers in his hair.
Without a word, he hooks his fingers in my panties and pulls them down my legs as he sits back slightly. Then his face is back at my core, and his tongue flicks my clit before it fills my pussy.
“Sloane,” I gasp, fisting my fingers in his hair as I push myself closer to his mouth.
He lifts my legs and throws them over his shoulders as his hands cup my ass. He pulls me, angling me, and I use my grip in his hair to keep myself upright as I ride his face.
Moaning, Sloane’s fingers dig into my ass a little harder. His tongue works me, fucking me, and then nipping and licking before flicking my clit. It feels so good, and I have no problem chasing my orgasm as I grind against his face, his eyes focused on mine. When I come, it’s with a long moan.
I fall back once he releases me, my legs as limp as the rest of my body. I don’t hear him unbuckle, unzip, or the sound of his pants falling, but I do feel him when he slides inside of my wet center. I lift my legs, wrapping them higher around his waist as my eyes flutter open to look into his.
“I love you, sunshine,” he murmurs as he slowly pulls out of me before he sinks back inside.
I open my mouth, but he doesn’t allow me to speak. He interrupts me. Every time he sinks down inside of me, he tells me he loves me. Every single time. I can do nothing but watch him, watch the way he looks at me, watch his eyes, how they hide absolutely nothing and shine with love.
“Come on my cock, baby,” he rasps. I feel his arms trembling above me, and his I love yous become more strained.
Lifting my legs a little higher, he grinds against my clit with his pelvis. It sends me over the edge. My pussy clamps down around him while I whimper through my release, and then he fucks me without restraint.
I accept every thrust from his hips, every slam against my center; and when he throws back his head with his release, he calls my name as he comes. Then he slumps forward and nuzzles my neck with his face.
“I love you,” he rasps, again.
“Love you, too, Sloane,” I murmur as my fingers trail up and down his slick back.
He lifts his head and his eyes connect with mine before he speaks. “You coming home with me tonight?”
Using my finger, I trace his lips, and I smile. “Yes, baby, I’m coming home with you tonight. After the real estate agent leaves.”
“Real Estate agent?” he asks, looking confused.
“I wasn’t coming here just to meet with my father, your mother, and mine. I was putting this place up on the market, too,” I shrug. “I don’t want it anymore.”
“No shit?” he asks, looking surprised.
Shaking my head with a small laugh I repeat, “No shit.”
Camo left, with the prospect in tow, while we were in the middle of making up, leaving me a text that he was headed back up north. My mother left before I even walked into the house. She hugged me, told me I had been an asshole, and to fix my shit before she turned away without a backward glance.
Imogen and I clean up, and I watch her make the bed so that it looks showroom ready again. Once she slips her shoes back on, I reach out for her from the corner chair in the room and tug her down to my lap.
“Sloane?”
“I really am so damn sorry, sunshine,” I confess. She nods once, her tongue peeking out to taste her lips.
“I know you are. No more apologizing. What’s done is done. Now we just move on,” she states. I wrap a hand around the back of her neck and tug her face closer to mine.
“Never. Again,” I grind out.
“Baby…” She doesn’t finish her sentence because I press my lips to hers and push my tongue into her mouth to taste her, my sweet wife.
“I hope you’re still this in love with me when I’m as big as a house and nine months pregnant,” she grins with a wink.
I throw back my head in laughter as she narrows her eyes on me, but I’m unable to control myself. She’s too fucking hilarious for words.
“Guaranteed, Imogen, you’ll be the sexiest pregnant woman I have ever laid eyes on. Let’s get you pregnant so I can prove that shit to you,” I grin.
She opens her mouth to reply, but the doorbell rings. She huffs and slides off of my lap. I watch her sweet ass as it flounces to the front door, I walk the entire way watching her ass and smiling.
This is my wife, my woman, and my sunshine. A woman who forgives me of my sins, but isn’t afraid to tell me her worries. She’s not afraid to take yet another leap of faith with me. She embraces all that is me. All that is us.
Once the real estate agent is finished photographing the house, we walk to the garage and I slip Imogen’s car keys from her hand. I also ask her for the picture her father gave her. She hands it over as she presses her lips together, and I don’t hesitate to take the lighter out of my pocket and light the fucker on fire. Once it’s completely burned, I stomp on it to put out the fire.
“You want to visit your mom before we head home?” I ask as I start the engine of her car.
This is the next thing to go. It isn’t as safe for her to have this in the mountains. She needs a Land Rover or something more suitable for the snow.
“Not really. I’ll just call her,” she murmurs.
I wrap my hand around her thigh and give her a squeeze, “Not a problem, sunshine, if you want to go see your mom.”
“I know, I just—I don’t feel like seeing anybody. I just want to go to bed with you,” she grins as she turns to me, her eyes looking soft and inviting.
I drive in silence for at least an hour, maybe two, my eyes slicing over to her a few times to see her in the same position, her head turned to the side, looking out the window. She’s watching the scenery, and it’s starting to change from the city to the mountains. Maybe she’s regretting coming back with me.
“Tomorrow’s the birthday party,” I say, afraid of her reaction.
Smiling, she turns her head to face me and she nods. “I have the perfect outfit.”
“Not worried about your clothes, sunshine. I’m concerned about everything that happened today, and if you’re going to be all right there?”
She frowns slightly before she lifts her chin. Her hand comes out to squeeze my thigh. With a heavy sigh, she finally speaks. “The club isn’t my favorite part of our lives. The man you have to be, the assuredly illegal things you do, I don’t love it. Most of the men and the women, aside from the whores, that aspect I enjoy. They’re more of a family than we’ve ever had. There’s more love there than we’ve ever had from our own blood relatives.
“So, I guess, I understand it. I hated what it turned you into, but looking back, it wasn’t the club that turned you into anything. You did it to yourself. It wouldn’t have mattered if you were working in your father’s office or not. You were going to look for new highs, however they came. I’ve forgiven the club, and I’m trying to focus on all of the positive aspects of it. I still might take that little bitch to the ground, though,” she shrugs.
I can’t help myself, I chuckle at her words as I give her knee another squeeze. I love her, all of her, every single part of her. I can’t imagine my life without her. I can only hope that she always feels the same, and that I can make her half as happy as she makes me.
“No need to knock a bitch out, sunshine. I’m all yours. I was searching, back then. I didn’t know what I was searching for, but I didn’t feel like I’d found it. I was scared of turning into my father, but I did anyway. The drugs and the women, fuck me, I turned out exactly like him,” he takes a breath before he continues, “But swear to fuck, when I dried out and got my head out of my ass, those were the best moments of my life. Just you and me, like this.”
She huffs and narrows her eyes at me. “It’s not that. It actually has very little to do with you, and very much to do her, being a complete bitch.” She whispers her next words. “You’re not your father, Sloane. Please believe that. I agree that you were searching and you didn’t know how to find what you needed.”
“Okay, sunshine,” I murmur. “Some days, I look in the mirror, and all I see is his reflection staring back at me. When I would look in your eyes and see that hurt I’d caused, all I could picture was the look my mother always wore. Staying clean and sober, it seemed like the best thing to do, and fuck, I tried. But I wasn’t strong enough back then. I was weak,” I smile sadly.
She reaches across the seat and wraps her hand around my thigh, giving me a squeeze. “He can’t hurt you anymore, Sloane. You aren’t him, I’m not Kalli, and he’s gone,” she whispers. “You’re a man now.”
“I am, that,” I agree.
“You’re not weak anymore.” she states.
Shaking my head, I pull over on the side of the road before I turn to her. “Sunshine. I’m the opposite of weak, now.”
Imogen reaches up and wraps her hand around the side of my neck as her eyes take me in. “I see that, Sloane. I believe you and I trust you,” she whispers.
Her words wash over me and I grin. “You can beat Destini’s ass, though. I’ll even watch. Fair warning, after you fuck her up, I’m going to need to fuck you,” I state, changing the subject as I pull back onto the road and head toward home.
“Sloane,” she says, feigning a gasp of surprise.
“Seriously, baby. You beating the shit out of some little whore, all because she said some shit about me, about her and me? It’s bound to make me hard as nails.”
“Fine, if I ever stoop to that level, you can fuck me in the bar,” she shrugs.
I swerve the car to the side of the road and slam on the breaks. Turning to face her, I see that she’s giggling, her face red and her eyes widened in surprise.
“You want that? You don’t have to make bets, sunshine,” I murmur, my eyes boring straight into hers. She takes a gulp and looks down.
“No, I mean, no,” she shakes her head. “I’m not brave enough,” she says.
“Whatever you want like that, if you want to try anything, you just ask me, baby,” I mutter.
“Okay,” she breathes.
Christ. I turn back to the front windshield and drive us home, my cock hard the entire time. Once we’re back at our house, I pick Imogen up and carry her to the bedroom, demanding that she rides me slow and hard.
My woman delivers. My woman always delivers.
After we’ve both come, I hold her as she sleeps. I can’t imagine her fucking me in the bar, in public, at the clubhouse. Maybe she’d enjoy watching others do it? I always keep her on the other side when we’re there, away from the real parties.
Sure, she could turn her head and see some stuff, but she doesn’t know that if we walked into one of the other rooms off of the main one, that’s where the orgies are, where people fuck each other; where there are no rules. You walk into that room, and everything is fair game.
Yeah, Grease and Serina put on a little show, and sometimes guys get their dicks sucked or have a whore ride them in the main bar area, but the other room is where the serious action happens. The other guys keep their wives away from that room, and I doubt any of them even know it exists. Maybe after our friends leave next time we’re there, I’ll take her in there, not to participate, but to watch.
I grin—Happy fucking birthday to me.