“Of course you can,” I said, moving forward as Deacon came out of his crouch. “Let’s get you settled.”
Deacon shifted out of the way as I put a hand to Araceli’s shoulder and gently turned her toward the door.
My eyes went to Milagros. “Got this, honey. You do what you have to do, take your time. We’re here when you’re done.”
Her eyes underlined the words she said. “Thank you, Cassidy.” She looked to Deacon. “You too, John.”
“Not a problem,” he rumbled.
I threw a smile over my shoulder at Milagros and guided Araceli to my living room.
We’d decided on a movie by the time Deacon walked Milagros out, went upstairs to get his keys and wallets, and came to us.
“You need anything, woman?” he asked me.
I threw a blanket over Araceli, my eyes to him.
“No, honey.”
He nodded, turned, and took off.
Bossy tried and failed to jump up on the couch so I helped her. When she got where she wanted to be, she went about doing her best to sort Araceli out. This being bounding to her face and licking her cheek.
Araceli giggled.
I smiled.
My little Boss Lady, she knew what she was doing.
I bent deep, kissed Araceli’s temple, and told her, “Gotta go to the kitchen to clean up, baby. You need anything, yell.”
“Okay, Tía Cassie.”
I grinned at her, squeezed her arm, and watched my dog snuggle into the blanket at her belly while Araceli scratched her ruff.
Then I went to the kitchen and I did it not even trying to stop myself from remembering all the goodness that came my way that morning.
Why would I?
When life offered you everything you ever wanted, you savored it.
It was just that I savored it over finishing cereal and doing dishes.
*
Later that night, snuggled into Deacon on the couch, my back to his front, his arm around me holding me close, when he used the remote to turn to the news, I twisted my neck to catch his eyes.
His head in his hand, elbow in the couch, he felt my gaze and tipped his to mine.
“You were good with Araceli,” I noted, and he was. He didn’t hover. But he did check on her, bring her Sprite, corralled Bossy when she was getting too much, and for a while he even sat in an armchair and watched a Disney movie to keep her company.
It was awesome.
“Like kids,” he replied.
Gleefully happy.
I licked my lips.
He watched then his eyes came to mine and I knew he again read me.
“Want ’em, woman. Two, definitely, maybe three.”
Oh yes.
Gleefully happy.
“Yeah?” I whispered.
“Yeah,” he whispered back.
I turned in his arm and pressed closer. Deacon reciprocated the gesture, taking me to my back, his length partly on me.
“I want two, maybe three, too.”
His eyes lit and he pressed closer. “Miracle.”
That confused me.
“Sorry?”
“Somethin’ my Cassie Boss isn’t gonna fight about.”
I grinned even as I lamely slapped his arm.
He bent his head and brushed my lips with his before he lifted away and asked, “You gonna watch the news with me?”
“I don’t watch the news, Deacon, because it’s not news. It’s televised depression.”
He chuckled.
“No, seriously,” I said.
“Right,” he replied, still chuckling. “Then go on up. I’ll just watch the top and be up with you.”
“Okay.”
He gave me another brush on the lips before he took his weight from me.
I rolled off the couch and strolled to the doorway.
I stopped in it, unable to see Deacon where he was lounging on the couch.
It didn’t matter. I didn’t need to see him. I figured he’d hear me.
“Baby?” I called.
“Right here,” his deep voice called back.
Yes he was.
Thank God.
My voice dipped lower when I said, “When you come up, would you play with me?”
Last night he’d given it to me vanilla. Or, more aptly, I’d given it to him since I rode him until he found it (after other things, of course; and I found it too, definitely).
Now he’d had a good night’s rest and a day of nothing taxing, just taking care of a sick kid.
I wanted to explore.
The air in the room got heavy in a good way but he just ordered, “Be naked when I get there, Cassie.”
“I will,” I said softly.
Deacon didn’t reply.
I didn’t need it.
I was already on my way upstairs to get naked.
*
I felt the tip of the plug against my oiled opening and I strained toward it.
I was tied to the bed by Deacon, a master at this, totally. A Deacon who, when he was gone did as promised, he bought me toys.
I had velvet ropes around my knees, binding them wide but fast. Also at my ankles. More along my back, holding me down.
And the best, one at my neck and ties bound to a scarf that held my head down and stationary, completely immobile.
Except for the head thing (and Deacon’s position, which made this even better), this was exactly as the woman was bound in the picture I saw that started my yearning. And this was the position where Grant had hurt me.
I was not hurting now.