“Okay,” I manage to squeak out.
He knows it turns me on when he nibbles on my ear and neck. If we weren’t here in the middle of this busy street, I would straddle him on this damn bike and fuck him hard, ride him like I have done so many times. One of the reasons I love his bike is that when the weather is warm, we love to have sex on it. Trust me when I say it sucks in the winter when we have to sneak around in his truck, trying to find a place to park in the middle of all that snow.
“Your parents first, or mine?” he now asks.
“Mine,” I say.
He hands me my helmet and I tuck my ponytail inside, climbing on the back of his bike as best I can with a knee-length skirt on. I tuck it underneath me as Cain swings his long leg over and starts the bike up. My hands wrap around his middle and I clasp them together over his tight abs, but on second thought, I reach down and give his cock a quick squeeze through his jeans. He cranes his neck back to stare at me with the same desire in his eyes that I have in my own.
“You want that cock, don’t you, Calla?”
His eyes roam over my face.
“Always,” I grin.
With a knowing smirk, he flips down his visor and races toward I-75.
He only slows down when we pull onto my street, removing one of his hands to give my knee a light squeeze of reassurance. Those nervous butterflies start flapping their wings in my belly when I see both of my parents’ cars parked in the drive.
“We can do this, Calla. You’re not alone now. I’m your husband, and there ain’t jack shit they can say anymore.”
He shuts off his bike. The loud rumble dies off, but before either one of us climb off, my father is jumping down off of the porch and getting right up in Cain’s face.
“Where the hell have the two of you been?” he screams loud enough that our neighbors on both sides of our house come running outside.
“John!” my mother hollers from right behind him.
“Don’t fucking John me, Cecily. I want to know where this motherfucking punk took my daughter.”
Cain stands face to face with my dad, never wavering or backing down, and glares right back at him.
“Calla, what have you done?” Mom asks in her sweet voice, a look of disappointment set in her expression.
Swallowing hard, I grab my husband’s hand as he helps me off of his bike.
“Dad, stop it,” I say sternly.
“I’m the parent here, Calla, not you.”
Dad’s gaze stays locked on Cain when he speaks.
“Don’t talk to my wife like that.”
Cain’s harsh and protective attitude has me moving quickly to stand in between the two men. I stare up at my dad, his eyes shooting not daggers, but bullets into Cain’s head as they dance rapidly across his face.
“Calla,” Dad says as he looks down at me.
“Tell me what he just said isn’t true. That you didn’t marry this piece of shit!”
I feel Cain stiffen behind me.
“Dad, that’s enough. And yes, I did marry him. I love him.”
My dad scoffs and his next words slice right down the center of my body, severing my heart.
“If that’s true and you are now a Bexley, then you are no longer a part of this family.”
Then he just turns and walks away, no explanation, no nothing, slamming the front door so hard that I jump. But when the one person who has been by my side this entire time looks at me with displeasure, I start to shake and my world crumbles as tears begin to fall freely from my eyes.
“What have the two of you done?”
My mother is crying now. Cain has his arms wrapped around my waist.
“Look, Mrs. Greer, we love each other. This feud between our fathers has nothing to do with us,” Cain says.
“No, it doesn’t, but the two of you just running off and getting married like this is going to make this situation so much worse than it already is.”