CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

 

“Did Brecken go to bed already?” my mother asked when she found me sitting in the living room alone. 

“Yeah.”

She motioned that she wanted to sit down so I shifted over on the couch. 

“I like the new reading glasses,” I said. 

My mother made a face and took off her glasses, peering at them critically.  “All that staring at a computer screen all these years has taken a toll on my eyes.” 

I glanced at the closed bedroom door where Brecken was sleeping and kept my voice low.  “Thanks for not asking too many questions when I brought him home tonight.”

She nodded.  “I understand.  Your Uncle Deck called your dad earlier to say he and Curtis needed to take a trip down to Emblem.” 

I sighed and picked at a piece of lint on my pajama shorts.  “Yes. They went down there because they had a lead on Tristan’s whereabouts.” 

My mother said nothing.  When I looked up I found her staring at me intently.

“Don’t look at me like that, Mom.  I know I shocked you today with all this hideous Parker business but I’ll be fine.  I won’t go hiding from the world again.  You guys don’t need to worry about me.” 

“Oh, sweet girl,” she said softly. She reached for my hand and squeezed it.  “Parents never stop worrying about their babies, no matter how old they get.  It’s the job that never ends.” 

I swallowed.  “I’m really sorry for what I’ve put you through.  And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what happened right away. Curtis tried to talk me into telling you.  He was right.”

My mother’s lips twitched and I could tell she was fighting a smile. “You seem to be getting very close with Curtis.  I see the way you look at him, Cassie. And I’ve noticed the way he looks at you.”   

I rolled my eyes.  “You’re as bad as Cami.”

“Cami’s good at figuring things out.”

 “In any case you can both stop fishing for details. Curtis and I are not nearly as close as you’re implying.” 

My mother cocked her head and surveyed me. “Is something wrong with your lips, honey? You keep touching them.” 

I dropped my hand.  Leave it to my mother to notice I kept discreetly running my fingers over my lips because I couldn’t stop thinking about that mind-blowing kiss in the middle of Curtis’s kitchen.  He’d caught me by surprise even though I wanted him to kiss me.  I wanted to do everything with him.  And I could feel how hard he was when he pressed against me.  I knew how badly he wanted it too. 

There was no more doubt in my mind.  Curtis and I couldn’t pretend to be just friends.  I think we were always meant to be something else.

“I really hope he’s okay,” I said.  “I got the feeling his brother was in some trouble. When Curtis told me he was going down to Emblem I was afraid for him.” 

“Your Uncle Deck is with him,” my mother reminded me.  “That’s even better than having a king on your side.” 

“You’re right,” I said, although I wouldn’t be able to really relax until I knew Curtis was home safe.  

My mother stretched.  “Well, I’d better get back to my office and try to get some work done.  Romance novels don’t write themselves.”  She patted my knee before rising from the couch.  “Your dad is in the garage working out his rage on his new wood carving hobby.  He’d probably appreciate a glass of ice water.” 

She had a knack for subtlety.  Instead of saying, “Please go talk to your father,” she made it sound a lot less dramatic. 

In the kitchen I filled a glass with water and ice before opening the door leading to the garage. 

Cordero Gentry was standing beside his corner workbench and frowning down at a block of wood.  The garage door was open to allow a slight breeze to filter through but it was still pretty hot out there and I could see he was sweating. 

“How’s the art coming along?” I asked, handing over the glass. 

He accepted the water and shrugged.  “I got this idea in my head to carve a falcon because I keep seeing one perched on top of a light pole close to Scratch.”  He swallowed the contents of the glass in a few seconds and set it down.  “The execution is proving tougher than I thought.  Carving is far different than sketching or inking.  The truth is, I’m not sure I know what the hell I’m doing.” 

“Who does?” I muttered, taking a seat on a nearby hydraulic work stool.

  My dad looked at me.  It was a sad look. It was exactly how I didn’t want him to look at me. 

“I would have killed him,” he said.  “If I had found him hurting you I would have killed him on the spot.” 

“I think Curtis was tempted to do just that.”

 My dad took a few steps toward the open door of the garage.  I realized he was looking down the street, in the direction of the park. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” he said, facing away. I heard the crack in his voice.  “I’m so sorry that happened to you.  You know I’d do anything to protect you and your sisters and your mom.”

I had to swallow the lump in my throat.  “Of course I know that, Dad.  But it’s impossible to protect us from absolutely everything in the world.” 

“The world,” he spat, anger in his voice.  “There’s too many fucking bad people in the world.  Even if you do everything you can to make a safe home for your children, they’re still out there.  Just waiting for a time when you’re not watching.” 

My father never talked like this, using these bleak words.  I knew he’d grown up in a terrible home.  He’d suffered a brutally abusive father and a neglectful addict mother.  His childhood must have been a nightmare.  And he’d worked so hard to give us a wonderful life, a childhood so different from his own, a home filled with love and security.  He must have hoped that would be enough to keep us from any harm. 

I slid off the stool and quietly walked to his side. 

“Yes, there are bad people out there,” I said.  “But there are good ones too.  There are men who might not seem like they belong in your life and then you find out they are honest and caring and trustworthy and everything you could possibly ask for.  There are men in the world like…Curtis.” 

He looked at me sharply when I said Curtis’s name.  Then he looked away just as quickly and faced the dark street again. 

“I had a call,” he said. “Just before you came out here.  It was your Uncle Deck.  They found Tristan down in Emblem.  He’d hooked up with some lowlife pack of losers and he refused leave.  Deck says there’s not much Curtis can do since the kid will be eighteen in another month so they left and came home.” 

  I processed this news and thought of Curtis, of how badly he wanted a good life for his brothers, of how hard he’d been trying to give it to them.

I swallowed.  “Did Uncle Deck mention whether Curtis is back at his apartment now?”  

My father didn’t answer right away.  An old wall clock hanging above the workbench ticked away the seconds. I started to wonder if he’d heard the question. Maybe he just didn’t intend to answer.   

“He’s there,” my father finally said and he gazed down at me.   

I stared him right in the eye.  He knew what I was asking, why I was asking it. 

“Daddy?” I whispered, hoping he would understand. 

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them and nodded.  “Go on, Cassidy.  Go to him.”   

I touched his arm.  “Thank you.” 

When I turned to dash back into the house for my purse and keys I didn’t get far. My mother was standing at the door to the kitchen and holding both objects out to me with a smile. 

“Thanks, Mom,” I said, snatching them because I was suddenly in a hurry. I needed to get to Curtis.  I needed to be with him right now.

Before I pulled away from the house I glanced back to see that my mother had joined my father in the garage.  She hugged him around the waist and he bent forward, burying his face in her hair.  They held onto each other tightly, this star crossed pair of soul mates who had been through so much together and loved each other so desperately.  I was glad to be their daughter.  It was an honor.   

The drive to Curtis’s apartment only took about ten minutes.  When I was reaching out to knock on his door I realized I should have called or texted. He might not want any company after such a tough night. 

He answered within seconds, wearing only his boxer shorts.  I’d never seen so much of him before.  He was all muscle and tattoos and complete perfection. 

“You said earlier that your door would always open for me,” I said, a little breathless because I’d run from the parking lot to his door. 

It was a strange greeting but Curtis didn’t appear to mind.  His eyes were slightly red but he sounded sincere when he said, “That’s true.  And there’s no one on earth I’d rather see at my door more than you.”

He stepped back so I could enter. I was still wearing my pajamas; a plain pink cotton shirt and loose pink shorts adorned with bunny rabbits.  Curtis closed the door and leaned against a nearby wall, staring at me with such a burning expression I knew he didn’t exactly mind the bunny rabbits.  

I set my purse down, suddenly nervous.  “I’m sorry about Tristan.” 

His expression dissolved into sadness and he looked away.  “I guess you must have heard what happened.  Deck said he was going to call Cord to give him an update.” 

“You want to talk about it?” 

Curtis had made no move to throw on some more clothes.  He was still standing there in only his black boxer shorts.  He crossed his arms and looked me over.  “No, Cassie, I don’t want to talk.  And neither do you.” 

It was a challenge of sorts.  He’d made the first move earlier today in the kitchen. He was leaving this next one up to me. 

Curtis stayed where he was and watched me as I approached. My heart was pounding so loud I was sure he must be able to hear it.  We were close now, close enough so that I could see how hard he was breathing. His chest was a chaotic mix of shapes and tribal tattoos and I ran my fingertips over them, enjoying the way he inhaled sharply at my touch.  I paused over a small line of scar tissue on the upper right side of his belly. It looked like a surgical scar.  It wasn’t. 

“Stab wound,” Curtis explained.  “Happened about four years ago. Some crack head motherfucker grabbed a kitchen knife and took a swipe at me when I showed up to collect some money he owed. He wound up with two broken arms.” 

He said all this with an edge in his voice, like he was trying to remind me again that he was no choir boy with a spotless past.  Maybe he wanted to make sure I understood what I was getting into with him before it was too late.  As far as I was concerned it was already too late. 

I bent down and pressed my lips to the old scar. 

Curtis groaned. 

He tangled his hands in my long hair while I kept kissing, flicking my tongue out to taste his hot skin, moving up and kissing every part of his chest, then his shoulders and his collarbone.  I braced my hands on his shoulders, rose up on tiptoe and kissed his neck, kissed the smooth lines of his jaw. There was no more distance between us.  We were close enough that I could feel every inch of him aching to be freed of his boxers.  I felt a tug around my waist, then Curtis’s hands inside my pajama shorts.  A moment later they fell to the floor and I was happy to be done with them. He was after my shirt next, holding up my arms and impatiently lifting the shirt over my head. I felt slightly dizzy when my bare breasts touched his hard chest. There were no more barriers except my panties and his boxers.  I was positive they would both be history soon.     

“Kiss me,” I whispered.

Curtis tipped my chin up so he could stare down into my eyes.  The look he gave me was all heat and lust, the look of a man who was on the edge of something primal.  But first Curtis wanted to issue one last warning. 

“If I kiss you this time, Cassidy, there’s no turning back.” 

I felt him against my belly, hard and ready. My answer was instant and certain.  “Good.” 

Curtis leaned in and parted my lips with his tongue. He was a powerful kisser, using his tongue with abandon as his hands roamed all over my body. I felt myself being lifted at the waist and I impatiently wrapped my legs around him, eager to get to the next step.  He was eager too, carrying me straight to the bedroom.   

I didn’t want him to turn off the lights.  I wanted to see him.  Curtis set me down on the bed and lowered himself on top of me. 

 “I’m not usually gentle,” he warned.  “But I will be if that’s what you want.” 

I touched his face.  “No,” I said.  “That’s not what I want.  I want you to be you, Curtis. And I want you to do every filthy thing that you said you wanted to do in my bedroom that night.” I bit my lip. “Do you remember?” 

“I want to send you to your knees and push my cock in your mouth. I want to bend you over this bed and pound you from behind without a shred of fucking mercy.  I want my mouth all over your pussy.  I want to come right on those pouty lips of yours and watch you lick it off.  I want to use you until you can’t stand up.” 

“Fuck,” he swore, turning his head away so that I wondered if I’d said something wrong.  Maybe he didn’t want me to be this way, bold and impatient for sex.  But when he looked back he was grinning.  “You’re my absolute fucking fantasy, do you know that?” 

I moved my hands low, touching the waistband of his boxers before sliding my hands under the elastic.  “I will if you show me.” 

He shoved his boxers down all the way and guided my hand to his dick although I could have easily found it on my own.  He was massive, rock hard under my palm.   

He was also dead serious now.  “You feel that?” he growled, moving to a rhythm as I stroked him. Then he bent his head and sucked on my left breast briefly before continuing.  “As soon as I’m finished making this sweet body mine I’m going to do every single dirty, indecent thing I can think of.  And you’ll fucking love it, Cassie. You’ll love every minute.” 

“Yes,” I moaned. I was squirming on the bed now, stroking him harder and trying to guide him closer. I needed him. I ached for him. Curtis nudged my hand away, but only because he was trying to get my panties off. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Most beautiful body I’ve ever seen.”  He kissed my breasts and my belly and the tender interior of my thighs while I arched my back in search of more and becoming frantic that he wouldn’t give it to me.  His tongue teased me, playing over my sensitive skin until I gasped and clutched the bed sheets in my fists. 

“Cassidy,” Curtis said and there was a strange quality to his tone now.  He was kneeling between my legs and ripping a condom open.  The intensity in his eyes had nothing to do with sex.  It was much more solemn and meaningful and his eyes remained locked on me as he rolled on the condom.  “You know you can trust me, right?” 

“Yes.”  I nodded.  “I know that, Curtis.” 

And I did.  I trusted him completely.  I wanted him completely. 

He was wrong when he said he wasn’t gentle.  Curtis covered me with his body and kissed me right then with excruciating tenderness.  Then he shifted position and I felt him slide inside of me.  He started out slowly, bracing himself on his elbows as he moved, letting me get used to the size of him. I spread my legs as wide as possible and took him in.  Nothing had ever felt so good. 

“That’s it,” he panted, pumping harder now.  “Move with me, sweetheart. It’s so fucking easy to make you come and I love it. Come on, baby, scream it out. It’s just you and me here.” He paused to kiss me again and then whispered,  “It’s just you and me.” 

“Curtis!”  I was a goner now, at the mercy of the sensations rocking my body.  And I did scream.  I held onto him and shouted his name again, this time so loud the noise probably awoke every resident in the apartment complex. 

My favorite part was watching him though.  After I finished shaking and crying out, his pace grew more frenzied.  He swore a loud string of filthy words, threw his head back and came while I watched him with fascination, memorizing every inch of his face and body. 

  This wasn’t just sex.  I’d had sex before, frenetic backseat teenage sex that always left me scratching my head and wondering what the hell the big deal was. It was different with Curtis, a connection so strong and so complete that I couldn’t imagine experiencing the same thing with anyone else on earth.  

Afterwards, when he was still catching his breath, he made the effort to find a blanket and covered me with it carefully before planting a kiss on my forehead. 

“That was so perfect,” I said softly.   

He propped himself up on one elbow and grinned at me.  “That was just round one, baby.”  His other hand casually roamed under the blanket and stroked my skin.  “You can expect things are gonna get a whole lot more creative now.”

I pushed the blanket down and guided his hand between my legs.  “You promise?”  

He looked mildly startled.  And amazed.  “Damn, you really are my dream girl, Cassie.  You have no idea.”

I leaned over and kissed him.  “I like being yours, Curtis.” 

“I’m glad.”  He collected me in his arms and held me tight.  “Because I have no intention of letting you go.” 

We did fall asleep for a little while. But only for a little awhile.  After all, Curtis had made a lot of dirty promises.  By daylight he’d fulfilled every single one. 

And he was right.  I fucking loved every minute of it.