Raw: Rebirth (Raw Family, #3)

Ugh. Shit.

Sudden flashes of images past flooded my mind, and as I struggled to breathe, my fingers loosened and I dropped my keys. When Twitch squatted down to pick them up, those images intensified. Wide-eyed, I peered down at him, unblinking, as he looked up at me knowingly. With other things on his mind, he glanced at my crotch, and my core clenched under his watchful eye. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, my knees weakened, and I had to lock them together to hold myself up, mortified that he was evidently thinking the same thing I was.

When he spoke quietly, the air left me in a whoosh.

“I feel like we’ve been here before.”

I snatched my keys out of his hand, and the only sounds that could be heard in the street was the clip-clopping of my heels as I all but ran to the driver side of my car.

Goddamn it.

The sexual tension was building. He was making sure of that. And I was falling into his sticky web.

“Yeah! C’mon, A.J!” Twitch stood and called out before sitting back down, looking at me through wide eyes. “Look at him go.”

“He’s good.” And he was so excited, so proud, that I couldn’t help but smile. “He’s been swimming since he was two.”

“He’s not just good, Lex.” Twitch shook his head. “He’s a fuckin’ child prodigy. I mean—” He waved an arm out. “—none of the other kids are that fast.” He caught the eye of a mother glaring at him. “No offense, lady.”

Oh my God. I tilted my head toward him and whispered, “Will you stop?” Sure, he wasn’t wrong. A.J. was a great swimmer. It was as if I were seeing my son with fresh eyes. “But you’re right.” When I felt his eyes on me, I kept my own trained on our son. “He’s amazing.”

We were quiet a while before he spoke. “You did that.” I looked at him. “That’s all on you, baby.” His gaze held me captive. I couldn’t look away. “You’re a great fuckin’ mom.” When he turned back to watch our son, he uttered, “Knew you would be.”

Was I though?

I thought I was doing okay. But, recently, it didn’t feel like it.

Over the last few weeks, with every day that passed, I felt I was failing him. As a mother, as a protector, as a role model, everything I taught him, I had done the opposite of with his father. No wonder his behavior was so funky lately. He probably looked at me and wondered why he needed to follow the rules when his mother couldn’t.

I vowed to try harder for the sake of my son. I would not disrespect his father in front of him. I would not let my anger rule my emotions. And, for the sake of our happiness, I would talk to Twitch and try to figure out how to make this work for all of us.

Our family was small. Our family was fragmented. But that didn’t mean we couldn’t all get along.

A.J.’s happiness meant more to me than my own contentment, so, for the greater good, I would smile through my discomfort.

When we got home, Twitch paused by the lawn, and when I let A.J. into the house, I held the door open in silent invitation, watching him closely.

The moment his feet moved, I turned, walking down the long hall and into the kitchen before kneeling in front of the sleepy little monster. “Get ready for bed.”

But A.J., as drowsy as he was, looked to his dad. “Can I stay up?”

“No,” I answered for the both of us. “You need to get into your jammies, honey.”

With a look of sheer aggravation, A.J. put his hands to my arms and pushed lightly. “It’s not fair.”

And at that moment, Twitch let out a humorless laugh. “Whoa there, boy.” When A.J. gazed up at him, Twitch threw him a hard look. “I know you didn’t just put your hands on your mother.” Without asking, he helped me to stand and took my place, kneeling in front of our precious boy. “We do not hit women. Not in anger. Not ever. You feel me?”

A.J.’s shame was worn on his sleeve, and even though Twitch made him stew a while, he put a gentle hand to his son’s messy hair. “You’re tired, aren’t you, buddy?” A.J. nodded, unable to look up into his father’s eyes. “Say goodnight to your mom. I’ll come in, read you a story.”

Wow. He was doing to the whole “being a father” thing rather well.

It was confusing. Part of me cheered for him, part of me hoped he failed, and some small sliver of my hurt pride wished he found the job too hard and disappeared again. That same small sliver caused me immeasurable amounts of apprehension.

Without a word, A.J. shuffled over and wrapped his arms around me in silent apology. I hugged him as tightly as I could without cutting off his air supply, because I knew how it felt to be reprimanded by Twitch, and it didn’t feel good.

Having given Molly the night off, I watched Twitch walk the small carbon copy of him down the hall and into his room, and then started on the dishes. Not long after, I heard soft footfalls, and then he was enquiring, “That happen a lot?”

I knew what he was asking. “No. Only since your arrival.”

“No shit,” he said, coming to stand at my side while I continued to wash the dishes. “I’ll talk to him.”

My brow furrowed, but a small smile appeared on my lips. “I think I should give him the ‘we don’t hit women’ talk.”

In not so many words, a bold allegation was made. He was a hypocrite. How could someone like him, who very clearly liked to put his hands on women and dominate them, talk to his son about not doing what he so very much enjoyed?

A moment of silence passed between us.

“What do you think I should have said to him, baby?” His voice was smooth as silk, and when he came to stand behind me, my lungs ceased to function. Strong hands came to rest on my waist, and I blinked drowsily, drunk on his closeness. When he pressed his front into my back, my stomach clenched and a shaky breath left me. “That I don’t hit women—” His lips touched the shell of my ear and my nipples peaked. “—not unless they beg me real, real nicely?”

Oh, fuck.

Where had all the air gone?

The moment I felt his thick erection, my mouth parted in a silent moan. He pulled back a moment to adjust himself, and then his cock’s impression was resting between my yoga pant-covered ass cheeks. He thrust lightly once, twice... until my eyes snapped open with a start.

Oh, God, it physically hurt to say it, but it needed to be said. “Stop.”

But Twitch was not feeling my “stop.” In fact, he felt it was so weak a protest that he simply lowered his face to the side of my neck, gently biting the delicate skin there, and when his teeth nipped me, my entire body jerked.

“Stop.” Louder this time, but the breathy tone in which I spoke said something else.

“No.” Twitch opened his mouth and attached himself to me, sucking on the sensitive area where my neck and shoulder met. One hand slid up, over my ribs, to rest just under my aching breast. And I died.

Jesus, girl. You aren’t seriously thinking about going through with this, are you? Have you learned nothing about impulse control? I know this guy makes you loopy with all his sex voodoo, but shit, he’s got you being the reckless bitch you left behind.

The thought was enough to force a knee-jerk reaction, and without so much as a word, I pushed back with my bottom hard enough to catch him off guard. When he stumbled back a step, I spun around, holding a hand out. My face was flushed, and I all but panted, “Stop,” and this time, I meant it.

Twitch frowned down at me, looking mildly exasperated, but he closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. When he reached down and wrapped his fingers around his denim-covered cock, squeezing tightly, I thought I’d fall to my knees and beg him to feed it to me.

Luckily, I was out of breath and momentarily speechless.

My eyes firmly fixed on those deft fingers massaging his hard length. The next words he spoke were a warning. “You keep looking at me like I’m a snack, I’m gonna have you on your knees.” As I lifted my head, his hooded gaze held me fast. “And when I tell you to suck my cock, you’re gonna do as you’re told, angel.”

He left you.