His gaze lifting to my lips again, Pax gives me a sly grin. He's not ready to give up on finding relief inside me.
"Is your birthday soon?" he asks, his fingers sliding up my shirt like an unhurried spider.
My mind finally unfreezes. "It's in April."
"I'll remember that."
"No, you probably won't."
I place my hand on his and stop him from reaching my breast. Pax leans back against the counter and scratches at his blond beard.
"I could go to Suede and shake off this weird feeling I have now. Problem is the only girl at the bar who will hook up with me is Maggie. She doesn't take guys back to her place, and I can't bring her here."
Pax stops talking, as if he's waiting for me now to say something. I think he hopes I'll rip open my top and do him right there. Though my pussy throbs for me to do just that, I only sigh.
"I'll pick you up a F U C K I N G sympathy card tomorrow while I'm out."
"I like when you spell."
"I like a lot of stuff about you too," I say, stepping back and finally covering my rigid nipples. "See you in the morning."
Pax watches me go, and I feel his gaze on me until I step into the bathroom and shut the door. Only then do I realize I've been holding my breath.
Sitting on the toilet, I rub my tits and struggle to get my body to stop humming for Pax. A very cold shower might help, but he'd hear the water and know I'm in heat. No way in hell am I giving him that kind of power yet.
11
Pax
Manly Nightmares
I don't have bad dreams often. A therapist told me when I was a kid that bad dreams came from insecurities we have when awake. I'm not insecure. Things don't scare me. I don't care when bad shit happens to other people. I never let anything bother me enough to have bad dreams.
Until Shay came along and trapped my brother in her steel pussy. Now I have bad dreams a lot, but they were never as bad as this one.
Waking early, I skip my shower since I spent an hour under the water before finally crashing the night before. My dick still hurts from jacking off for so long, but my hands won't give me what I need.
Upstairs, I turn on the coffee then peer into the bedroom where the woman I need is sleeping. Her feet are sticking out of the covers as usual while her face is hidden under all her dark hair. Next to her, Lula sits up.
When the kid sees me, she looks relieved. I think she needs to piss, so I curl my finger to have her come with me. Lula looks tiny crawling out of bed in her pink nightgown and messy hair.
"You need to use the toilet?" I whisper.
Lula nods then stares down the hallway. Waiting for her to get moving, I realize she's scared. Nothing frightened me for long as a kid. Ford and I always rolled with our problems. When we thought the boogeyman was hiding under our beds, we took our bats and hunted it.
Lula isn't tough like I was though. She's soft like her mom. Liking that quality about them, I don't want Lula growing up to be mean like some girls do. I hope she grows up to be smart and kind.
I hold out my index finger, and she takes it as we walk to the bathroom. After I whisper I'll wait at the open door, Lula does her business then washes her hands and returns to me.
In the kitchen, I pour myself a cup of coffee and make her a bowl of cereal. We sit at the kitchen table and relax in silence. A few minutes later, Bebe rushes out of the bedroom in a panic.
"I'm up," she mumbles.
"We're fine. Go get cleaned up before I leave."
"Where you going?" she asks, trying to seem casual.
"I got people to kill."
Lula isn't paying attention. She only has eyes for her mom. I can't understand that sort of love for a parent, but I guess it's how I feel about Ford. To have someone who means everything to you, even though they drive you fucking crazy.
Bebe kisses her daughter on the head and caresses her messy hair. Watching them, I feel sad about my mom never doing that shit with me. I was a cute fucking kid, but I don't remember my mom ever wanting to touch me or Ford the way Bebe needs to touch Lula. They comfort each other in such a beautiful way that I'm ready to fucking kill anyone who so much as inconveniences them.
When Bebe lifts her gaze to mine, she looks tired and still a little startled. There's warmth in her expression and not just because I left her panties drenched the night before. She sees me as a good guy who is sweet to her kid. I like her thinking of me as nice. Being good usually equals weakness, and I sure as hell think Ford's gone soft since meeting Shay.
With Bebe though, I'm willing to be a wuss as long as she looks at me the way she is right now.
I need to leave for breakfast at Hunk O' Love, so I give the sleepy girls a head nod before disappearing out the door. Ford is pulling down his driveway when I pass, and he follows me to the diner.
"Hello, sunshine," he says once we arrive. "You look sexually unsatisfied."
"Do you think Shay would still want you if you lost an eye and needed to wear a patch?"
"My baby isn't shallow."