My voice can hardly stop from shaking, “You know better, Lynk! You know the rules!”
“The rules are stupid!” he shouts back from where he’s standing in the upstairs loft we turned into a playroom. “What’s so bad about me using the LIVE feature to talk to Scott while we play Space Warriors!?”
“It’s not safe!”
“You’re not safe!”
His childish, idiotic retort brings me back to the reality that I am in deed arguing with a child.
I give the scruff on my face a rub. “Lynk, you don’t understand the threats that could be lurking. You may think it’s just you and Scott, but there could be some creepy man you have no idea about, watching you.”
Which is why whenever he uses anything that requires a web cam, I monitor behind the scenes, making sure his connection is as secure as possible. Making sure the asshole who tries to join their chat conversation is actually another nine-year-old and not a forty year old hoping to lure my son into the back of his van.
The thought churns my stomach and I snap again, “You’re grounded!”
“What!”
“No video games at all for a week. And you’re not allowed to go hang out with your friends either.”
“That’s not fair!”
“And straight home after practice. No pizza pit stops!”
“Not fair!”
“What’s not fair is I trusted you and you broke the rules!”
Lynk grits his teeth at me, folds his arms, and flops down onto the edge of his bed, visibly seething.
He looks exactly like I did at that age, but his mannerisms are a carbon copy for the ones I often showcase now. It’s like looking at a pocket size, clean shaven version of myself. It’s probably the reason I have a less difficult time dealing with him rather than Sage. He has no traces of Beth physically or her personality. I’m not even sure what he remembers about her. Sadly, I hope it’s almost nothing, not only to spare him the pain that can come from memories of a lost loved one, but the pain that can from realizing they didn’t care about you as much as they pretended.
“Daddy,” Sage calls from behind me. “It’s time for my siesta.”
Her constant incorporation of Spanish brings me a much needed smile.
How much of a bastard does it make me to love the fact she sounds like Meena yet hate the fact she looks like Beth?
I give my face another scrub. “You are not to leave this room until Sage’s nap is over.”
“But-”
“No buts, Lynk. You need to sit in here and think about what you did wrong and how you can earn my trust back.”
My son glares like he’s mentally giving me the finger.
He’s my kid.
He probably is.
Without another word I shut the door behind me and let out a deep sigh.
Fuck, parenting is hard.
Sage reaches her arms upward for me to carry her. I give into her silent request and admire the creation she’s sporting with her hair. There are six ponytails in various positions and statuses around her. One is wavy, one is curled, one is braided while the others have accessories like ribbons and bows. While I want to question what the hell was Meena thinking, I know better than that at this point. She doesn’t let the kids ever do anything that would cause them actual harm. She lets them make what most people would call mistakes, but has taught me they’re just growing opportunities. She also allows for creative discovery, which is what I am assuming this monstrosity on top of my daughter’s head is.
After I’ve placed Sage in her bed, she begins collecting her favorite stuffed animals to sleep with. “Were you having fun playing with Miss Meena?”
She excitedly nods. “I love Miss Meena!”
Me too.
No.
Shit.
0.
That has to be a 0.
I can’t love her.
I shouldn’t.
My daughter offers me a bright reassuring smile like she can hear the constant cacophony going on inside my mind.
I pull her blanket over her arms, kiss her forehead, and whisper, “I love you, Sunshine.”
“I love you too, Daddy!”
Slowly, I begin walking backwards for her door, eyes entranced by the beautiful, innocent creature snuggled up against a teddy bear.
She deserves a mother and a father. They both do. And I know Meena would fit into that role easily, just like she’d fit into my arms…against my mouth….against my cock.
Closing her bedroom door, I shake my head again.
0.
Too risky. We go down that path, we fuck things up, and my kids lose the closest thing they’ve ever had to a maternal figure. As much as I want my dick touched, not at that cost.
Price is much too high.
On the way to the playroom where the Xbox One is waiting to be removed, my phone begins vibrating in my pocket. I quickly retrieve the device and am a little surprised by the name on the screen.
“Hey Arthur.”
“Holden!” Beth’s father greets cheerfully on the other end. “How are you?”
“Won’t complain.” My hands begin unplugging the console. “How are you?”
“Oh…you’ll never hear me complain about my life,” he joyfully says.
What’s there to complain about? He makes billions. He is a prime example of what coming from money and investing it properly looks like.
“Were you calling to talk to the kids?” I brace the phone between my shoulder and ear while gathering the device into my grip. “Because it’s quiet time in the house.”
“Actually, I was calling to chat with you.”
This can’t be good.
I make my way down the stairs for my office where I plan to store the game unit until his punishment is over. “About?”
“Well, Sybil and I were hoping you would let us have the kids for a weekend.”
My movements cease.
“You know, thanks to Meena we’ve been able to talk to them on Skype twice a week for the past month, which is wonderful, might I add. They’ve both grown so much since we saw them this spring.”
His words wedge the guilt I feel about keeping them apart even further down my throat.
They’re great grandparents. Hell, they’re the only ones my kids have, but spending time around them always reminds me of their daughter who I can never apologize to for the last mistake I made.
Whose forgiveness I’ll never have.
Whose forgiveness I can never give.
“Meena’s also been sending us soccer pictures of Lynk.”
That’s….news….
“Few from practice. Few from game days. He looks like he really loves it.”
“He does.” I sink down to a sitting position on the middle stairs. “It’s why I pay for him to play on a year ‘round team.”
“Wise investment.”
My face twitches a smile.
“You know if you ever need extra money for something like that Sybil and I-”
“I’ve got it under control, Arthur.”
And even if I didn’t, I would get it there. My children deserve whatever happiness I can provide at whatever costs…
Shouldn’t that include a mother like Meena?
Yes…
Wait.
0.
“Of course! Of course! I meant no offense, Holden. Anyway, I know the kids have a very set schedule. Meena has made that abundantly clear. She also doesn’t deter from it during the week for our phone calls either. We respect that. The kids seem to respect her as well.”
“They love her.”
And I’m pretty convinced I do too…
Damn it.
0.
“We love her,” Arthur chuckles. “And we would love to meet her.”
His words cause my body to tense once more.
“And if you ever need any help keeping her,” he adds casually, “please do not hesitate to let us know.”
I’m not a charity case. I can take care of my children. I can afford to provide childcare for them. I am not the irresponsible wreck their daughter was.
“Arthur-”
“Just check their schedule. Please.” The begging builds the shame back up. “We’re free any weekend. Every weekend. We’ll rearrange anything necessary on our end. Just…consider it.”
Quietly, I reply, “I’ll…see what I can do.”
“Thank you!” He hums enthusiastically. “We’ll call back later tonight to talk to the kids at our normal time. Hope to hear from you soon, Holden. Enjoy your afternoon.”
“You too, Arthur.”
The call ends and I promptly return to my task at hand. After safely locking the Xbox away, I knock on Meena’s bedroom door.
We need to talk. While I’m not pissed about her sending pictures to their grandparents or even helping grow the relationship, which I logically know they need, I’m a little irritated I didn’t know. I should know everything about my kids possible. They shouldn’t have secrets from me.
When I knock again and don’t get an answer, I cautiously open, the door bracing myself to back out if necessary.
Seeing her accidentally naked would probably only make my balls purple instead of blue. Masturbating in the shower to thoughts of her and faint memories of the one moment we had together isn’t enough. I come and my cock just stays hard, waiting for more.
Waiting for her.
The bedroom is empty, but the closed bathroom door has rap music blaring from the other side of it. I make my way around the room, avoiding an array of proof my children have been in here. Unable to stop myself from grinning at Sage’s dress up clothes and Lynk’s Lego Batman contraptions, I simply shake my head.
This is what my bedroom looks like too.
This is what a parent’s bedroom should look like.
A familiar yearning sneaks up the back of my throat and I shove it down at the same time I knock on the bathroom door.
Thankfully, this time, she answers, preventing the risk of walking in while she’s peeing or worse. Showering…
Meena finishes rapping the final Tupac line to the All Eyez On Me chorus and then offers me a wide smile. “Yeah?”
My original conversation starter is tossed out the window. “Are you really listenin’ to, ‘Pac?”
She leans one arm against the doorframe. “What do you know about ‘Pac?”
“What do you know about ‘Pac?” The mirth in my tone identical to hers.
“More than you,” her declaration makes me chuckle.
“Doubtful.”
Curiosity coats her eyes.
“He rapped about his struggles. What he had to do to survive. That was easy for me to relate to. Never had a gun, but used my keyboard like one.” My confession slips out easier than it ever has. “What I could do behind a computer screen didn’t just keep me sane. It kept me alive.”
Meena’s expression softens. “Different kinda thug life…”
“Yeah.” We both lightly laugh. “More like type life.”
She giggles again. “Doesn’t sound nearly as amenazante…”
My smile stretches and remains to the point it’s almost painful.
“Didn’t really grow up with money,” she offers information in return for the tidbit she got. “Had friends who got caught in the wrong crowds. Drugs were like a death sentence. Didn’t matter if you did ‘em or sold ‘em, they destroyed su vida. My mother getting a job that required us to move to the suburbs was the best thing to happen to us. Getting a scholarship to Clover Rose was a close second.”
Most of the people I know can’t fathom what it’s like not to have money or recall a time when they had to do something questionable just to make sure they had food to eat or lived to see another day. After I ditched that part of my past I never gave it a second glance. Beth was a beautiful distraction from whom I once was and a great disguise for who I was pretending to be. Who I’m still pretending to be most days. My bros know more than the most, but even they don’t know the whole picture.
It’s best they don’t.
“Who else are you into?” Meena questions, inviting me into the bathroom.
“Dre. Eminem.” I follow her in. “Nas. Ludacris. Bun B…”
“All good choices,” she agrees, turning down the music.
My eyes drink in the disaster of her on suite bathroom. The floor and counter alike are covered in dolls of various sizes along with My Little Pony creatures. There are ribbons scattered around, hair bows, and colorful clip on pieces. Along the edge of the bath tub and back of the toilet there’s a rainbow display of nail polish bottles while the area near the sink has jewel stickers and washable tattoos.
“What the hell happened in here?”
“We were playing beauty shop.”
I give her a teasing look. “And then a hurricane hit?”
“It was a busy day!” She argues between laughs. “We had all kinds of clients.”
“Obviously.” At the sight of her smile shimmering, I thoughtlessly sigh, “I’m glad Sage has you. Beth would’ve never done shit like this with her. She barely even played with Lynk. Didn’t mind kid messes, just…didn’t want to participate in the reason they were created.”
Meena sharply barks, “You have to stop comparing me to her.”
Immediately, I start to argue, “I just meant-”
“It doesn’t matter what you meant or what you mean when you do it. What matters is that you stop.” Her body flops down onto the closed toilet seat. “No soy Beth, Holden. I’m never going to be her and it’s not fair you have a subconscious comparison constantly going on. You have to let go of the notion that any woman who comes into these kids’ lives is going to meet that expectation. It’s not fair to the women you hire. It’s not fair to your children. It’s not fair to you.”
My body braces itself against the counter.
“Learn to just appreciate and love the differences rather than constantly note them whether it’s in a negative or positive sense. Learn to just love what’s working and move on from what didn’t.”
The latter feels like advice Nate would give. Advice…I…wanna take in more than one way.
Advice that makes pressing 1 feel so easy…
Knowing it would be better to stay silent than anything else, I simply nod.
Meena offers me a crooked smirk. “Wanna help me limpiar? Sage tried, but somehow she magically just created a bigger mess.”
I lightly chuckle and give her another nod. “It’s a special talent she has.”
We exchange another snicker and begin the process of picking things up.
Only a couple minutes pass before I bring up the topic I initially came to speak to her about. “I actually came down here to discuss the kids’ grandparents with you.”
She reaches for a towel to dry a puddle of water. “Que hay de ellos?”
I toss her a questioning look.
“What about them?”
“You’ve been sending them pictures?”
“Of their nietos? Si.”
“And letting them Skype twice a week?”
“Si.”
“You didn’t think to tell me?”
I brace myself for a shit storm of English and Spanish to come flying out of her mouth. To my surprise, she smirks. “You didn’t already know?”
My mouth bobs but nothing comes out.
I really fucking didn’t.
“That’s unlike you.” Her arms fold across her chest, towel dangling from her fingertips. “You typically monitor this house like Ft. Knox.”
“Yeah, but I trust you.” The mindless slip shocks us both. My chest begins to constrict and I quickly wade out of the situation. “We’ve established a good communication system is what I meant. I was just taken off guard you didn’t include me in the decision to have more contact with their grandparents.”
Meena doesn’t push away the hurt look from my back peddling, but she doesn’t comment on it either. “When I first asked was it alright for Arthur and Sybil to have contact you agreed. You didn’t specify a specific amount and I didn’t see the harm in allowing them time with the only other familia they have. If you feel I crossed a line then have the conjones to say it.”
The knot in my throat begins to rapidly expand.
She didn’t. If anything she’s bridging a gap I don’t have the balls to.
“They want the kids for a weekend.”
“And?”
I clear away the nervousness I’m suddenly feeling. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”
Confusion jumps onto her expression. “Are you…are you asking me for my opinion?”
“Yeah.” Giving into the instinct to let her take the position we all want her to, I say, “You know what’s best for them. You’ve proven that over the past couple of months. You think a visit would be okay? Would it fuck up their schedule? Their routines?”
Sweetly, she says, “I think it would be great for them and you. Bonding with their grandparents isn’t something all kids get to do, so letting them have that connection, especially a connection both sets of people want is a great idea. Plus, it’ll give you a little breathing room.”
“You give me plenty of that,” I kindly argue. “Thanks to you, I get real sleep. I can go to the gym or for a beer with my bros without worrying my kids are safe. I’m even able to be a little more productive at a better pace because I don’t have to waste time interviewing someone for a nanny position then background searching them.”
She’s made my life better in numerous ways.
God, if I could just let her do it in one more…
If I could just let my finger hit that key…
“You’re the longest nanny I’ve had in two years.”
“A la chingada!”
I laugh and playfully throw a hair bow at her. “Don’t let it go to your cabeza. I could fire your ass at any minute.”
Her head tilts at me as her eyes fill with humor. “Did you just compliment me and threaten to fire me in the same conversation?”
Another chortle escapes. “Si.”
Meena winds up the towel in her possession and pops it my direction, nailing me on my t-shirt covered bicep, right below where my tattooed bat symbol lies.
“Hey!” She repeats the action and I do my best to dodge, which is difficult thanks to the Barbies blocking my path. Unfortunately, she pops me on the forearm where I have the Gotham City skyline. “Sonofabitch!”
Laughter falls freely from her. “Tienes que ser más rápido que eso.”
Hearing her native tongue calls to the greedy beast inside me who is eager to hear her come in two languages.
No…
I have to keep telling him no.
Fuck, what’s no in Spanish?
No?
The song changes to ‘Dirt Off Your Shoulder’ by Jay-Z and she momentarily abandons tormenting me to rap along. As soon as the chorus hits I join in making the iconic hand motion to go along with it. Meena tosses her head back on a giggle, but it’s cut short when I begin rapping along not missing a word. She nods along, jumping in with the lines she knows, and returns to picking up the room. Together, we defeat the mess, occasionally elbowing one another just to see the other person smile.
Around the time we’re almost finished, my brain begins the familiar nagging I wish it would abandon.
Beth and I had great times together, but they weren’t like this at all. Before we had Lynk we barely ever had them together sober. We never vibed like this. We were never this in tuned. We were never willingly on the same track. I had to string her along mine for sobriety and she had to lure me with luxuries I needed Lynk to have. Luxuries I didn’t.
At the same time that I lean down to pick up what appears to be the last of the ribbon off the floor, Meena attempts to clip a bow in my hair. I manage to dodge and playfully scold, “Stop that. Don’t make me use this to tie you up.”
Her eyes immediately implore for me to make the idle threat a reality.
My cock instantaneously seconds the notion.
She sways her body a little closer to mine and primal urges smother out logic.
“Hands.”
There’s no delay in her offering them to me.
Our eyes lock and she silently begs me to continue.
To give in.
To take her the way I did eight weeks ago.
To just fucking press 1 already.
Swiftly, I tie them tightly together with the tiny green ribbon and tug her towards the bathroom door. I lift her hands high and rest the captured area on the metal towel hook hanging on the back of the door. She offers me a small squeak, which melts into a moan the moment I drag my fingertips along the curves of her body.
My mouth knocks against the crook of her neck while one hand slips underneath the edge of her yoga shorts. “Don’t scream…It’s quiet time.”
She smirks until I nip at the area eliciting a whimper. The feeling of her body vibrating against mine shifts my actions into the savage ones I fear. There’s no hesitation in my hands yanking down her shorts. No procrastination in throwing them out of my way. No vacillation in my tongue giving her bare pussy a salacious stroke. Her head falls backwards, long straightened hair dangling above me like a curtain desperate to hide the performance, but not quite long enough. My mouth latches onto the flavor relentlessly filling my senses and I growl against her in starvation.
In desperation.
In obligation.
And it is my fucking obligation to make sure she comes again and again. That she comes until her entire body can no longer stand. Until these pale paint colored walls peal from the screaming she shouldn’t be doing, but can’t resist.
I spread her thighs wider and allow my tongue to give her clit a forceful flick. The gasp freed is almost lost upon me as I repeat the action just to have her body thrust itself back at me.
To have it submit to everything I wanna deliver.
My fingers dig firmly into the thickness of her ass while my mouth hastily travels their direction. I deliver one, long, languorous lick against the tight hole that manages to turn me into a votarist who is unwilling to stop until I overdose on her screams.
Against my earlier warning, she loudly cries, “God, Holden!”
Fervidly, my tongue oscillates on a path of delicious destruction, tearing apart her ass with thrust after thrust before relocating to her pussy that seems to swell from the lightest touch. Meena’s moans continuously attempt to morph into screams. Each time her voice teeters on the edge of too loud, I deliver a swift swat to her ass that makes her body tremble. While my cock strains for attention in my jeans, it’s easy to ignore.
I haven’t had a woman on my tongue in years.
Since the night Beth died.
Since the night I betrayed my family.
The dark thoughts spur my tongue to act barbarically to banish the shame being sexual always manages to bring me. Her body struggles from its captured position yet her mouth can’t stop begging for more. With my face pressed firmly against her wet pussy, I ruthlessly whirl my tongue around her clit, collecting a long overdue orgasm in the process.
Meena sings a symphony of Spanish praises, my name scattered between each one.
More in love with her body now that I’ve had a proper taste, I soak myself in its surrender to me. Bathe her pussy clean until I’m convinced the taste of her cum is permanently engraved on my tongue as a reminder to return soon.
When I finally slip away and back onto my feet, her limp body can barely hold itself up. Pride pumps through my veins and I hungrily press my jean covered cock against the very area I just conquered.
One hand winds itself around the ends of her hair to tug her face back to mine. My mouth descends hers, impetuously pushing my tongue against hers. Another moan seeps free. I hastily soak it up almost completely unaware of the unexpected additional sound in the room.
Meena manages to pull my mouth from hers. “Es tu teléfon.”
The last words registers and I quickly step back to remove the device from my pocket.
Seeing Murphy’s name not only creates a new level of resentment towards him, but forces my mind to register what I’ve just done.
What I shouldn’t have done.
What I just fucking risked.
The 1 I shouldn’t have pressed.
I shake my head slowly at the same time I answer the call. “Reiss.”
“You got your request granted.”
“What?”
“Your request for the photos of a young agent to manipulate as bait. Brewster approved it and I’ll be sending you the images now. She also wants a copy of your creation for our records. Are you ready to receive them?”
My eyes cut a glance of the half-naked woman dangling from a bathroom door.
Not exactly…
“Give me five minutes.”
I end the call and quickly inform, “Something has come up for work.”
There isn’t an ounce of annoyance on her face, only understanding.
I don’t deserve that.
I don’t deserve her.
“I um…I need to get to my office.”
Meena nods and removes herself from the position she was pretending to be stuck in.
She was never really at my mercy.
She could’ve escaped at any time, but stayed.
Let me feel like a man who truly owned his woman.
Fuck.
She’s not mine to have.
She wiggles her hands free and opens the door without saying another word.
I begin to awkwardly slip by when instinct over the proximity of our closeness crushes me. My hands yank her to me by the edge of her t-shirt and my tongue rolls around hers, melting her against me all over again. This time when she abruptly pulls back her lips are swollen, her cheeks are flushed, and she appears unable to catch her breath.
The sexy vision causes me to smirk as I return to exiting the room.
Need collides with want in the forefront of my mind creating a cluster of confusion I can’t handle.
At least not right now.
Right now, I have an auction site to infiltrate.
I have freedom to gain.
I have a future to earn…a future that might just include her if I can figure out how the hell to make this work without wrecking the stable relationship my children are now dependent on.
That I’m becoming dependent on…