“How about I take the kid back to the living room. We’re halfway through Tangled, and oddly enough, I need to know how it’s going to end.” I manage to get an out.
“Yay!” Arabella shouts, wiggling her way down out of her nana’s arms and making a run for it toward the living area.
“You guys talk.” I offer Liberty a smile. She mouths “Thank you,” and before I know it, half an hour has passed and I’m shouting at the TV, devastated she cut the bitch’s hair off.
Fuck me, who makes these movies?
“Okay, well, thank you for calling me. No, no, I understand. Next time for sure. Okay. Thanks. Bye.” Liberty hangs up the call and lets out a frustrated sigh.
“What’s up?” I ask from her sofa later that night. After being subjected to a Disney movie this morning, I told Liberty I needed some hardcore action movie to wipe my mind clear of all those catchy tunes.
“Ugghh, I’m having a hard time finding a new place for our car wash next week.” She plops her ass down next to me, tucking her feet up under her.
“What sort of place you need?” I pause the movie, pulling her into my lap and against my chest before wrapping my arms around her waist.
“Anywhere at this stage. All I need is access to water and space for the cars. It’s not like we normally get a huge turnout, but it’s still enough for us to be able to fund some things at Haven.”
“I might have a place,” I offer, wondering if it will work.
“Yeah?” She sits up, her eyes growing wide with possible excitement.
“Why not down at the station? It’s not far off the main road. We get heavy traffic, and I’ll make sure the boys bring their trucks in for a clean.”
“Oh, my God, are you serious?”
“Yeah, if you think it’s a good spot.”
“It’s a perfect spot.” She captures her lip between her teeth, working through the idea. “Can you clear it with whoever you need to clear it within the next few days?”
“It’s a done deal. I’ll sort it out,” I tell her, knowing the Captain will be onboard.
“Seriously, Hetch,”—she throws her arms around my neck, squishing her tits close to my face—“you’re a lifesaver. The kids will love it. But are you sure?” She pulls back, taking her tits with her.
“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m positive.” I tug her back, hoping to get reacquainted with those sexy tits of hers.
“Have I told you you’re amazing?” she whispers, before pressing her soft lips to mine. I let her lead, enjoying seeing her become more confident.
“You did this morning after I slept on the sofa, survived a Disney movie, and then had breakfast with your pissed-off father, but you can still show me.” I rest back, allowing her room to straddle my lap completely.
“You gonna let me be in charge?” She pushes my shirt up over my head then gets to work on my belt.
“Depends,” I answer, lifting my hips so she can strip me free of my pants.
“Depends on what?” she asks, taking a step back.
“If you can handle it.” I fist my cock, stroking myself to relieve some pressure.
“Oh, I’m more than capable.” She reaches behind her. The brief, sharp hiss of the zipper opening is the sweetest sound I’ve heard all day, but it’s what she reveals underneath the dress that’s the sweetest sight I’ve seen ever.
“Jesus, sweetheart.” I stroke my cock a little harder, taking in her lace boy shorts and bare breasts.
It’s simple. But fuck me, it’s perfection.
She smirks down at me, before walking over to the end table and reaching into the drawer.
“What are you doing?” My leisurely assault of my cock slows when she pulls out a pair of department-issued handcuffs.
“Showing you how capable I can be.” She turns, stalking her way back to me.
“I don’t fucking think so, sweetheart.” I reach forward, wrap my fingers around her tiny wrist, and pull hard. She comes willingly, falling sideways back into my lap.
“What’s the matter, honey? You don’t like to be restrained?” It’s the first time she’s called me honey, and I don’t know why I like it so much, but I fucking do.
I like it.
A lot.
“No. I don’t like to be restrained. That’s your job.” I tug on the handcuffs as she straddles me once again, releasing them from her grasp before she knows what’s happening.
“No fair.” She pouts, rolling her hips against my stomach.
“Life isn’t fair, but it sure as hell is fun sometimes,” I taunt, capturing a wrist in my grasp while snapping one cuff closed. She fights me for a second, not sure what I’m up to, but when I grind my hips up to meet her *, she loses all train of thought, and her arms relax.
That’s my girl.
“Here’s how we’ll play it,” I tell her, taking her other wrist in my grasp and snapping on the second cuff. “You can be in charge, first,” I explain, liking this play much better than hers.