spent the last 24 hours in the hospital for an asthma attack that turned into a potential pulmonary embolism that turned into maybe bronchitis with tachycardia upwards of 180 bpm and all I have to show for it are these pictures
this is me sitting in my same old clothes that I definitely peed myself in from coughing and not being able to breathe for 6 hours
this is the first meal I was allowed (actually clutch post asthma attack)
and this was my (and my lil brother's since he stayed the entire time in the ed w me) final meal before I left against doctors wishes to monitor my 110 bpm heart rate after I skillfully got it down from 180 and got my oxygen up from 86% to 97%
all in all great hospitality would recommend (not sarcastic) just maybe for the first time in the history of hospitals these doctors were a little too locked in on helping me 🙏 still a 5 star experience in my books baby!
took a few months off to recalibrate my silly little head and now i'm back, baby! sorry if you reached out and got no reply, i turned notifs off during my lil hiatus. going through everything now, though!
chapter warnings: series is 18+ only, MINORS DNI, age gap (reader's age is set at 25, joel is 40), best friend's dad trope, reader works at a bikini bar (race is a blank slate but reader is described as being curvy/plus size and is very much comfortable in her skin), divorced!joel, dual POV, angst, heart attack recovery, oral sex m!rec, unprotected piv, breeding kink, dirty talk, dom!joel, miscarriage talk, tw: heart attack, miscarriage
5/5🌶️
a/n: thank you for all the love on this series. it's one of my favs, and getting to share it with you all has been so fun. this is the end of the main chapter road for these two, but as always, i'm open to drabble requests and continuing their story in little snippets. they'll also be in my new series, Honey, so keep an eye out for them :) love you all and sorry for the delay!! (also not proofread bc i'm a lazy gal so forgive me)
word count: 6.1k
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“Where is he?”
You can’t catch your breath, not after the call from Tommy letting you know that Joel was on his way to the hospital. You were on your way to the house, desperate to get away from Sarah and the words she was throwing at you like knives. I don't know why he’s here or what condition he’s in, only that just an hour ago, you were telling him that you love him and making plans for the future.
A future that could be at stake.
“He’s okay,” Tommy says, resting his hands on your shoulder as you rush up to him in the waiting room of the emergency department. “He had a heart attack. They’re back there stabilizing him now, alright?”
“A heart attack?” you ask, voice high pitched and almost bordering on shrill. “What—what do you mean a heart attack? What—why would he—what was he—“
“Why’s she here?” Sarah’s voice sounds from over Tommy’s shoulder. “I think you’ve done enough. You can go.”
“Me?” you ask in disbelief. “This is my fault?”
“Stop,” Tommy orders, more stern than you’ve ever heard him sound. “It’s no one’s fault. Just…sit down and try not to talk to each other.”
“I don’t want her here,” Sarah says, crossing her arms over her chest. “She’s not family.”
Tommy scoffs. “I think your dad would beg to differ, kiddo. Just sit down. Y’all can tear each other’s throats out later.”
You comply without argument. There’s not much you want to say to Sarah right now anyway. The way she’s been speaking to you is the way a teenager would, not a grown woman.
Certainly not a best friend.
But if you’re being honest with yourself, the two of you stopped being best friends a long time ago. Maybe even before Joel entered the bar that hot summer night two months ago.
She’s been off doing her thing in Dallas, consumed by the corporate world and city life, and you’ve been here surviving. It’s never been an equal playing field, and it’s taken this big scandal to realize it fully.
It takes an hour and a half for the doctor to come out and speak to Tommy. An hour and a half of painfully awkward silence filled by Tommy’s occasional yawn or call to Maria.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Sterling. I take it you’re Mr. Miller’s family?” “Yeah,” Tommy says.
“Is he okay?” Sarah asks, sounding more concerned than she’s looked all night.
“He’s stable,” the doctor says to them as they stand a few yards away, huddled together. It didn’t feel right to join them, so you stay seated in the hard chair by the window, watching the sun disappear over the horizon.
You have no connection to Joel by blood. No connection by law. You’re just…his. By word, by touch, by look. It’s not something anyone else can see, but it’s something, nonetheless.
“It was a minor cardiac episode,” she explains, and you watch as Tommy and Sarah take simultaneous sighs of relief. “We’ve moved him up to the ICU for the night to monitor him. If everything remains in the clear, he should be home by tomorrow night.”
“Thank god,” Sarah sighs. “Can we see him?”
“He actually asked to see someone named Blue?” she says, and for a beat, your heart stops.
Sarah’s eyes trail to you, cold and cruel. “He must be high on meds, then.”
“Quit,” Tommy scolds under his breath. “We can all see him, I’m sure.”
“Of course,” Dr. Sterling says with a smile. “If you can track Blue down—“
“I’m here,” you say, standing up. All three sets of eyes pan to you like you’re objecting at a wedding, but you swallow down the feeling. “But…they can see him first. I think he’d want to see them first.”
Dr. Sterling eyes me like she can sense the tension in the air, but rather than judging, she just nods and gives me a kind smile. “Whatever you think.” Turning to Tommy and Sarah, she waves them on to follow her. “Right this way.”
JOEL
“Hey, old man.” Tommy’s voice is the first thing I hear after my little medically induced nap. “You look like shit.”
“Fuck you,” I murmur, too out of it to do anything more than that. “Where’s my girl?”
“Right here, Dad,” Sarah says, her voice soft and full of remorse.
But no more than I am, given that the girl I was asking about wasn’t my daughter.
I swallow and turn to her, giving her a pursed smile. “Hey.”
She frowns, tears welling up in her big green eyes. “I’m sorry, Dad,” she cries, leaning over to rest her head on my chest. “It’s my fault. I…I’m sorry for what I said to you. I didn’t mean it. Of course you’ll be in their life.”
“S’okay,” I say, smoothing my hand over the back of her head. Then I lie. “All’s forgiven.”
She nuzzles in closer to me, whispering a thank you.
But I need more than that.
“Did…did you find Blue?” I ask, and she stills. “Did you apologize to her?"
Tommy shakes his head at me and draws his hand over his throat in a motion for me to stop talking, but I’m not about to let her get off on this without talking about it.
“Sarah,” I sigh, and she pulls away. She’s back to crossing her arms over her chest and avoiding my eyes. “Baby, you need to make things right with her after the shit you said. I forgive you and…I’m willing to accept your choices. All I ask is that you accept mine, and that starts with apologizin’ to the woman who’s done nothing but look out for you since you met.”
Sarah shakes her head and backs away. “No. She doesn’t get my forgiveness. And if it’s that important to you, maybe you shouldn’t either.”
“Sarah,” Tommy calls after her, but she’s already made up her mind and left the room. He sighs, tipping his head back against the wall. “This is the exact thing I was tryin’ to prevent.”
“I know,” I say, fussing with the threadbare sheet that doesn’t seem to be capable of covering both my feet and my body at the same time. “If she didn’t mean what she does, I wouldn’t have started this mess. But she...”
Tommy gives me a knowing look, half full of pity and half full of pride, and pats my leg. “She’s a good one. Don’t know many other twenty-five-year-olds that would wait in a hospital for a grumpy old man like you. Especially not with Sarah givin’ her those green murder eyes.”
“Sarah just needs time and space,” I say, hoping it’s the truth. “I meant it when I said I wasn’t giving up one for the other. Sarah’s my life. She’s everything. But Blue…she’s non-negotiable. I can’t do it.”
A soft knock sounds on the metal frame of the sliding glass door to my room in the ICU, drawing both of our eyes to the curtain as it slides open and reveals the woman in question.
One look at Blue and my heart—as rusty as it might be—starts to beat normally again. Like it was waiting for this, for her, all along.
“Hey,” she breathes, her voice strained and eyelashes batting quickly.
Tommy clears his throat before making his exit. “I’ll come by in the mornin’.”
“Thanks,” I say, but my attention is fixed solely on the ray of sunshine brightening this dreary room. Blue waits for Tommy to slide both the curtain and door shut behind him before turning back to me. Her lips wobble as she steps closer to the bed, carefully scanning me from head to toe. “They managed to keep me in one piece.”
She chuckles, the sound bubbling out of her like a sob. “You had a fucking heart attack, and I wasn’t there.”
My brows furrow as I watch her break down in front of me in a way I haven’t seen yet.
And I’ve seen all kinds of tears from this woman, much to my frustration.
“Baby, c’mere,” I say softly, sitting up and reaching for her. She moves toward me without argument, allowing me to pull her into my arms. Her face nestles in the crook of my neck and I can’t help but to breathe in the scent of her shampoo—blueberry and vanilla. A uniquely Blue concoction. “I’m okay. Nothin’ t’cry over.”
She scoffs, pushing me away just to look at me with scolding eyes. Her finger wags in my face like a stern parent, and suddenly, I’m imagining her as the mother of my children.
Fuck, whatever medicine they’ve got me on has to be strong for me to be considering having more kids at the age of forty.
“You are something to cry over, idiot,” she says. “You can’t make me fall in love with you and then just keel over, you hear me? That’s not fair.”
I smile despite the stern look she’s trying to give me. “Yes, ma'am."
“God,” she sighs, reaching her hand up to rest on my face as her eyes bounce around, studying my features. “I’ve been giving your heart too much of a workout. I should’ve known…Old men like you can’t fuck as much as we do without repercussions.”
It’s my turn to scoff. I bat her hand away and pull her in tighter until my lips are grazing hers. “You’re lucky I’m not supposed to partake in any heart racing activities for the next few weeks, otherwise I’d prove you wrong right here and now.”
She smiles, kissing me softly before forcing me to lay back against the shitty, crinkly pillow. “So what happened?”
I heave out a sigh, taking my hand over my hair. “Sarah said she’s knocked up.”
“Pregnant,” she corrects. “Knocked up is kind of old fashioned and derogatory.”
“Fine,” I say. “My baby girl, at the ripe age of twenty-one, is pregnant, and the father of my unborn grandchild is her step-mother’s ex-fuck buddy. S’that modern enough?”
“A little hillbilly, but yeah, modern,” she says, cracking a smile. “So, Sarah’s pregnant. That’s not the end of the world. Definitely not die and leave me all alone worthy.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “Yeah, guess not. I just worry about her. About him.”
“It’s your job to worry about her,” she says, brushing a hand over my hair. “But please try not to let that worry kill you, for my sake at the very least. Sarah’s an adult, she can handle herself. All you need to do is be there along the way.”
My lips purse as I stare at her, half in awe of the woman she is and half in longing for the life we might’ve had if we were the same age.
“You’d be a good mom,” I blurt, too dumbstruck by her to catch myself. “I just mean…hell, I don’t know what I mean. Just that—well, you’re good with your words, s’all. Know what t’say when t’say at it.”
Her eyes narrow and then soften before a smile tugs at her lips.
“You imagining me pregnant up here?” She taps on my temple before leaning in to press a soft kiss on my lips. “Just promise me you’ll live a long, healthy, heart-attack-free life, and I’ll see if I can make that thought a reality.”
ONE WEEK LATER
“Joel, what did your doctor say?”
You sound more like you’re talking to a toddler than a forty year old man, and the way you’ve settled your hands on your hips and plastered on a stern frown doesn’t help.
But Joel just had to get up and do something today, despite Dr. Sterling’s orders for him to take it easy for the first couple weeks at home. And in true Joel Miller fashion, he couldn’t stand by and let the grass go unmowed for a week.
Nor could he let the pool go unskimmed.
Or his truck’s oil change.
“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, his eyes facing the cement floor beneath his feet as he stands on a ladder in the garage, reaching for the light fixture to change the old bulb to a new one. “Baby, I—“
“Bed rest, she said. Take it easy, she said.”
“No sex for three weeks, she said,” Joel adds with a grunt as he scales himself down the ladder. “It’s either I break the rules by busyin’ my hands with these odd jobs, or I break the rules by bendin’ you over. Can’t take all my fun away.”
Joel saunters over to you with an easy smile, and despite the fact that he’s covered in sweat and his white T-shirt is stained with some mysterious dark grime, he makes you weak in the knees. So weak that you lean into him, resting your hands on his hips as he cups your face with both hands and presses his lips against yours.
You hum into the kiss, melting into his familiar warmth. “Trust me, I want to break the no sex rule just as much as you.”
“Then what are we waitin’ for?” he asks with a smile, backing you until your ass hits the edge of the metal counter against the wall. “I’ve got nothin’ but time, darlin’.”
You giggle, tossing your head back as he traps you there and tickles your neck with his beard.
“Ahem,” a masculine voice sounds from the opening of the garage, drawing both of your eyes to Sheriff Peña as he stands with his hands on his hips.
Joel’s eyes swing back to yours, wide with betrayal. “You called the Sheriff on me?”
“You wouldn’t stop working, and you’re clearly bored, so here,” you say, walking over and guiding Javier in by his shoulders like he’s a child. “He’s your play date.”
“We’re grown men,” Javier grumbles.
“Fine,” you roll your eyes. “Your man date. Whatever. Just keep Joel seated and entertained until dinner, alright? Tommy, Maria, and Benji are going to be here in an hour.”
“This some kind of intervention?” Joel groans as he begrudgingly follows you and Javi into the house.
“Just a reminder as to why you need to take it easy on yourself,” you say, leading him to his recliner. “Sit down, old man.”
Javier chuckles to himself as he finds a seat on the couch.
“You ain’t that far off,” Joel murmurs to him.
“You’re my least favorite Miller,” Javi returns.
Good. A little male on male verbal assault is much better than Joel pushing himself beyond his limits.
TWO WEEKS LATER — JOEL
“So I’m cleared for…exercise?” I tiptoe around the question I mean to ask, but I’ve never been all that good with talking openly about my personal life. Least of which with a sixty year old cardiologist I just met three weeks ago.
Dr. Sharma smiles and nods her head. “Your heart is in good shape, Mr. Miller. Have all the exercise you want.”
I’m all smiles as I walk out of the cardiology wing at St. David’s Hospital. For the first time in three excruciating weeks, I’ll be coming home to Blue with the knowledge that I’m officially cleared for sex.
I wasn’t even this horny in my twenties. Certainly not in my thirties. But then again, I’ve never had such satisfying, fun, emotionally connected sex with anyone before. At forty years old—forty one in a couple weeks—I’ve turned into a nymphomaniac, always ready to go when it comes to Blue.
So, it’s safe to say that all this waiting and not being able to do any more than watch her get herself off—which I’ve thoroughly enjoyed—have been a real test of my willpower.
“Blue?” I call out as I swing the front door open. Her car’s in the driveway, shiny from a fresh wash that I got to witness from the front porch a few days ago. Blue, sudsy and in nothing but a tube top and jean shorts, scrubbing away at her car will live permanently in my mind until the day I day.
“Hey,” she replies, out of breath as she rounds the corner of the main hallway. She’s in nothing but a sports bra that presses her generous, sweaty cleavage together, and a pair of flared leggings that hug every single curve on her lower half. And boy, does she have a few. I gawk at her as she wipes a hand over her brow. “How’d the appointment go?”
“Upstairs,” I order, too short-circuited to elaborate.
She eyes me, confused, before it dawns on her. Nodding her head, she parts her lips and lets out an, “Ohhhh.”
“Oh’s right,” I say, already toeing off my boots. She still hasn’t moved, apart from looking down at her current state with a frown.
“I’m sweaty from my workout,” she says. “I haven’t showered since this morning.”
“You think I give a damn, baby?” I unbuckle my belt as I fill the distance between us and discard it somewhere for another time.
“Joel,” she giggles, bracing her hands on my chest as I grab her hips and tug her close.
“Fine. You don’t wanna go upstairs? I’ll fuck you right here,” I say before surprising her by picking her up. She yelps with a laugh as she wraps her legs around my waist and arms around my neck while I carry her over to the couch.
“Your heart—“
“Is fine,” I say, nuzzling my face in her neck without a care that she’s been sweating. She doesn’t smell like the kind of gross, manly sweat I’m accustomed to working with a bunch of laborers. She smells like her sweat. Perfume and soap and hard work all glistening on her skin. It’s an aphrodisiac. “Doctor said I was in perfect shape. Told me to have as much sex as I wanted.”
Blue laughs and pulls back as she straddles my lap. “Those were her exact words?”
“I think the term we settled on was exercise, but yeah.”
My hands slide over her hips in a familiar way, tugging her closer against my lap. “Feel free t’get my heart rate goin’ any time now. Not like I’ve been deprived for weeks or anythin’.”
She laughs again before kissing me deep and slow, as sensual as the way her hips start to rock against me. My fingers tighten against her soft flesh with every roll of her hips, her clothed pussy teasing my painfully confined cock until I think I might actually cry. Thankfully, she puts me out of my misery before I embarrass myself.
“You’re not the only one who’s been deprived,” she says as she slides off my lap and onto the floor, kneeling between my spread thighs. Her hands slide up my lap until she’s grabbing the waistline of my jeans and tugging them down with my help. “I’ve been daydreaming about this since you left the hospital.”
“Yeah?” I ask, practically panting as I watch her wrap a fist around my girth and give me a firm stroke from base to tip.
“Mmhm,” she hums, licking her lips as she watches my cock react to her touch.
A bead of pearly arousal leaks from the head of my cock, previewing just how quickly this round is going to go for me. But she doesn’t look disappointed by my eagerness—she looks hungry. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”
A strangled groan slips from my lips as she leans in and swipes her tongue over my thick head, all while keeping her eyes locked on mine.
“Jesus fuckin’…” My head tips back against the couch as she sucks me into her mouth, taking me as deep as she can go before she starts sputtering. My hand is quick to reach for her hair, tugging her off my cock before I shoot my load down her throat. “Get up ‘n turn around.”
She lets out a soft moan as she stands to do as I said. Turning around, she makes a show of bending over as she slips her leggings down until they’re kicked off and discarded along with her sports bra, leaving her gloriously bare for me.
“Now come sit on my dick, Blue,” I order, stroking my cock as I watch her turn around and saunter to me with her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Her breasts, still wearing the slightest sheen from sweat, hang heavy and full on her chest, bouncing as she straddles my lap. “Fuck,” I growl, burying my face in her cleavage as she reaches behind to line me up with her entrance. “Missed you, baby.”
She moans as she sinks down, taking me into her heat slowly. She’s so fucking tight, so fucking wet. I can’t do anything but whimper as she sits flush on my lap and grinds herself against my pubic bone.
“Jesus, baby,” I moan, holding her hips in place. “Give me a second or I’m gonna come.”
“I don’t want a second,” she says, bouncing on my dick from base to tip before sinking down on me again. I let out a moan that fills the house as I hold onto her hips and pray to god I don’t come before her.
“Blue,” I groan, squeezing my eyes shut as she takes control, fucking me like she might die if she stops. “Shit, baby. I can’t—you gotta stop before I—“
“Come inside me,” she cries, reaching down to her clit to run tight circles against it as she rides me harder than I’ve ever been ridden. “Fill me up and put a baby in me, Joel.”
“Fuck,” I growl. Picking her up, I bring both of us to the ground and slot myself between her thighs, pounding into her like a caveman. My right hand comes to settle around her throat, squeezing the sides tight enough to have her pussy leaking around me and eyes rolling back in her head.
“Fucking…me…so…good,” she sobs with each brutal thrust, our needy moans blending together like a duet. “Make…me…come!”
“Uh-huh,” I grunt, moving my hand down to her clit to stroke it as my cock hones in on that soft spot deep inside her. “Come all over my cock, Blue. Come for me and I’ll fill you up until you’re drippin’ with me.”
She whines, her thighs trembling as they try to squeeze together, but I don’t stop. My hand and cock work in tandem until she’s practically convulsing on the living room floor, my name the only coherent thing to come out of her mouth.
“Good fuckin’ girl, Blue,” I moan, drilling into her one more time before my release hits me like a freight train. My veins feel like they’re flowing with white hot liquid as I fall on top of her, wrapping my arms around her like a vice grip. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”
We lay there for I don’t know how long, both of us lost in euphoria until Blue’s giggle pulls us out of it.
I lift my head, staring down at her with a smile pulling at my lips. “What?” I ask with a chuckle.
“For a second there,” she says, still laughing, “I thought maybe you had another heart attack.”
“And that’s funny?” I ask with a chuckle.
“Explaining it to the paramedics would be,” she says. “As would your tombstone. Here lies Joel Miller. Father, brother, son. Died of heart attack from good sex with his controversially young girlfriend. May he rest in peace.”
“Little wordy,” I say, pulling out of her with a hiss. I reach for my lower back as I sit up on my knees and eye the mess between her thighs proudly. “Might as well add on a broken back while you’re at it.”
She reaches down between her thighs, scooping up some of our release and rubbing it against her clit before fingering it back into her cunt.
“Ten minutes,” I say with a shake of my head as I watch her drag those same fingers up to her lips to suck them clean. “Jesus. Gimme ten minutes and we can run this thing back, and this time, I need that pretty cunt on my face.”
TWO WEEKS LATER — JOEL’S BIRTHDAY
It’s Sarah’s first time being back in Austin after everything. Of course, she’s still not at all interested in seeing you, but at least she’s willing to come see Joel for his birthday. That’s all that matters.
You try to make yourself as scarce as possible at the party that’s being held at Tommy and Maria’s house, but it seems that no matter how many people show up and fill the space, Sarah’s glare always seems to find you. Except tonight, it’s less of a glare and more of a numb, deadened look that you’re not at all used to seeing on her typically bright green eyes.
She clings to Maria, Benji, and Honey’s side as they sit around the dining room table playing spades with Sheriff Peña and his friend that works as an aerial fire pilot, Frankie. The only thing more awkward than the tension between you and Sarah is the tension between Honey and Peña.
Turns out Honey’s mystery baby daddy was more connected to her world than she could’ve ever guessed. Not only is he her cousin-in-law’s best friend, he’s Benji’s godfather.
Small world and all that.
“You hidin’ out over here?” Joel’s warm timbre finds you as you hide behind the wall leading into the kitchen, essentially peeking around the corner like a creep as the party goes on around you.
You melt into him, resting your back against his chest as he joins you in hiding. His chin rests on your shoulder as his arms band around you, and at this simple contact, both of you release a soft, content sigh. “I don’t want to overstep.”
Joel presses his lips against your cheek and lets them stay there for a few pecks before speaking. “She’s not even thinkin’ about you right now. There’s—she’s got a lot goin’ on.”
Your brows furrow with concern as you turn to face him. “What happened?”
He heaves a sigh and frowns. “She lost the baby.”
“What?”
“She pulled me aside a little while ago and told me,” he explains. “Said it happened the day after my heart attack, but she didn’t want to tell anyone right away. She went to the ER in Dallas by herself, took care of it, and went on pretending with her ex.”
“Ex?” you whisper-shout again. “They broke up?”
He nods, grinding his jaw as if the mere mention of the guy makes him want to hit something. “Guess he ended things the day after she told him. Don’t know why, but…clearly the fucker isn’t smart.” He strikes a hand through his hair and gives his head a shake. “Anyway, after that she quit her job and moved in with Honey last week.”
“Jesus,” you sigh, shaking your head. “I’m sorry that…you know, me being in your life means that you’re hearing all this big news after the fact instead of being able to be there for her in the midst of everything.”
He shakes his head and reaches for your cheek, stroking over it with his thumb. “S’not your fault. She and I were both bein’ stubborn. Didn’t want to be the one to reach out first, but…we’re good now. Things feel normal. I got to give her a hug, tell her how sorry I am for all of it. S’all I wanted for my birthday.”
“Hm, that makes the lingerie I have on underneath this dress a whole lot more awkward,” you say, biting your lip. “Might have to take it back since you’re such a simple man on your birthday.”
Joel’s eyes go round as he shakes his head. “No, I’m greedy. I’ll take all the gifts. Wrapped, unwrapped, bent over the kitchen table. Whatever you got.”
A throat being cleared interrupts the moment. You both turn to find Sarah standing there with sad, soft eyes. “Hey, uh, can we talk really quick?”
You nod, sliding away from the wall to follow her through the kitchen and onto the deck. She sits cross-legged on the outdoor sofa while you seat yourself in an armchair.
“So, I assume my dad told you about everything,” she says.
“Yeah,” you say, softly. “I’m…god, I’m so sorry, Sarah.”
She shrugs and bats her lashes. “I’ve come to terms with it. As horrible as it might make me sound, I think the breakup hit me harder than the miscarriage. I’m not ready to be a mom yet. I mean, I’m barely old enough to drink legally.” She chuckles dryly, but you can’t bring yourself to join in. “I just…I really thought he liked me for me. That he thought of me as more than just a young baby machine, but…no. That’s all he ever wanted. A young, naive girl to knock up while he goes off and fucks half of Dallas,” she says. “I didn’t tell my dad that part. Figured he might kill the man if I told him that he’d been cheating on me the entire time.”
You chuckle softly, nodding as you look down at your lap. “Probably a good call.”
With a heavy sigh, she finally lifts her eyes to meet yours. “About what I said to you that day…You have to know that I didn’t mean it. Or—well, I guess I might’ve meant it at the time. But I really didn’t think this thing with you and my dad was real. I thought…I don’t know, that it was some weird taboo thing. And I know it was hypocritical and mean, but that’s just where my head was at. Now, I know it’s not just some mid-life crisis thing between you two,” she says, giving you a week smile. “I mean, you nursed that old, stubborn man back to health. I think that alone deserves a medal of honor.”
You smile, and for the first time in a month, it feels easy. “I never meant to hurt you, Sarah. It’s important to me that you know that.”
“I do,” she says, nodding earnestly. “And I’m not saying it’s not going to be weird, y’know, seeing you two together. I mean, he’s my dad. It would be weird seeing him with anyone. But I want you to know that for me, it’s water under the bridge. As long as you’re making him happy, and he’s that for you, too, we’re good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she says, patting the seat beside her. “Now come give me a hug so we can stop being so awkward?”
You laugh as you walk over and squeeze her tight. “Missed you, Sar.”
“Missed you, too.”
JOEL
An hour passes by as I linger by the patio door and peek out of the window, watching Sarah and Blue find their rhythm again. It’s all I could’ve wanted for my forty-first. Blue tosses her head back, snorting loud enough for me to hear inside the house, even with the chatter of the party going on behind me.
“Spying?” Honey asks as she stands beside me, joining me in my eavesdropping. “Things look like they’re going well.”
“How is she?” I ask as I close the curtain and face my sort-of-cousin. “She says she’s doin’ alright after the miscarriage, but…I don’t know. Seems like somethin’ that you don’t just get over.”
She shrugs, tipping her head to either side. “It’s not, but it’s easier when you’re young like her. She didn’t want that baby, Joel. She didn’t want that man, either. She knows it was all too much, too fast. I think she’s just going to process it in time. Maybe ten years from now it’ll hit her, but…she’s got so much life ahead of her and she knows it. She’ll be alright. Just hang in there.”
I nod, pursing my lips to keep them from wobbling.
Just a few years ago, she was still my little girl. I’m not oblivious to the fact that she’s a woman now, but it’s still a knife in the gut to think about her getting swept up in all this adult business. And that ex of hers…I want to kill him for the way he dropped her like she’s nothing. He’s supposed to be a grown man, older than me, and yet, he treated her no better than a kid in his twenties would’ve.
“So,” Honey nudges me with her elbow, drawing me out of my murderous thoughts. “I’m assuming you’ve heard about Javier and I.”
“From what Pena tells me, there isn’t and will never be a you and him,” I say, arching an eyebrow. “Seems difficult to make a baby with someone who can’t even stand to look at you.”
My eyes trail over the room to find him sitting on the sofa with Maribel in his arms. Two of Maria’s very single friends--including Janelle--sit on either side of him, giving him round, awe-filled eyes.
Honey’s scoff tells me she already noticed the attention he’s getting.
“He didn’t hate me the night we made her,” she says. “In fact, I remember him liking me quite a bit.”
My nose scrunches at that, but I don’t say anything.
“He hates me because I kept him from her. Or her from him. Either way, he’s got every right to hate me. Should he be telling my cousins how much he can’t stand me? Probably not, but I’m in the doghouse for the foreseeable future, so I don’t get much of a say.”
I chuckle and pat her shoulder. “Give it time, kid. Soon enough, he’ll be able to say he’s completely indifferent to you. Only took me about a month.”
“Fuck you,” she says with a laugh just in time for the patio door to open behind us.
“Is he getting on your nerves? Just tell him to sit down and have an Ensure and he should go back to being his normal self,” Blue teases as she walks inside. Sarah comes in behind her, smiling at me.
“I’m gonna get going. I’ve got a job interview with a firm here in town that Grandpa set up for me.” The only good thing to come out of my relationship with Shannan, rest her soul, is her family’s connections. “I’ll stop by sometime next weekend. Just giving you a heads up so I don’t walk in on anything traumatizing. So, you know, clean up all your condom wrappers and sex toys or whatever nasty shit you’ve got lying around.”
“Who said we use condoms?” Blue chuckles, Sarah gags, and I roll my eyes.
“Drive safe,” I say, pulling her in for a tight hug. “Love you, kiddo. So much.”
“I love you, too.”
Honey sighs as she grabs her purse and hoists it over her shoulder. “Ready to watch me awkwardly steal my baby back from Javier’s pack of groupies?”
“Play nice,” Sarah warns as she follows Honey into the living room.
Blue leans back against my chest as we watch the scene unfold from the comfort of our little bubble. I lower my lips to her cheek, kissing the soft skin there before trailing my nose down the line of her neck and back up. “How’d it go?”
I can feel her smile against me. “Really good,” she says. “Not perfect, but really good.”
“Good,” I murmur against the shell of her ear. “I love you, Blue. Not sure I’ve told you that since everything happened.”
“You haven’t,” she says, turning her head to meet my lips for a soft kiss. “Tell me again.”
I grin, brushing my stubble against her neck. “I love you.” A peck to her neck. “I love you.” A peck to her jaw. “I…” I brush my lips over hers. “Love…” A soft peck. “You.”
Blue is all smiles as she turns her body to press into mine, crossing her arms over my shoulders as she kisses me like a woman greeting a soldier after war. I hum into the kiss, squeezing her waist as I deepen it.
She pulls away breathless and grinning. “I love you too, Joel. Need to hear it again?”
I nod eagerly. “All night, and preferably in the nude.”
not me entirely forgetting i left y’all on a cliffhanger 😭 yes, our beaten down forty year old king lives !! i just have to finish the moodboard and transfer the chapter from my docs over to tumblr 🫶🏼
series warnings: Explicit Content, MINORS DNI, one night stand turned pregnancy trope (i totally get it if this isn’t your thing, feel free to just skip this one), duo POV, part of my blue-verse (which might have another spin-off in the think tank w/no pregnancy/babies if that’s your thing!!), “platonic” co-parenting (yeah…right), grief, javi is a reformed slut, reader is a reformed commitment-phobe, the rest will come as the series progresses!
wc: 3.3k
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JAVI
My favorite season has always been fall. Something about the colors always spoke to me. Rusts and browns and that perfect shade of green right before it fades until spring. I guess there might also be some deeper, hidden reasons why I like the idea of the season of change so much, but I’ve never been the kind of guy to dig all that deep into my baggage.
There’s too much shit there to sort out. Easier to just tuck it away into a mental storage unit until I forget it’s there. That, or I lose my mind for good. Either way works for me.
As I go for my morning run around my local park, I find myself in sheer awe of the world around me. I shouldn’t be here. Not after everything I’ve seen and been through in Colombia. And yet, here I fucking am in Austin, Texas, running on a trail like a normal, not entirely fucked up citizen.
What a joke.
And the real kicker is that I’m not alone on today’s run. After years of running in the opposite direction of all things commitment, I’ve decided to give dating a real shot.
As a thirty-six year old.
Who hasn’t dated since…college?
Before that?
Whichever it is, it’s been a long time. And I’m rusty. So, a run sounded like a good idea for a first attempt at a date. After all, if shit hits the fan, I can always just…keep running. Eventually, she’ll tire out, right?
“So…” My breath plumes out in a cloud in the chilly morning air as I keep pace next to the ER nurse one of the guys at the Sheriff’s Department set me up with.
Seline is pretty, in a corporate, city girl way—her dark hair slicked back into a pristine bun, her face blemish free and glowing, her athletic gear all creams and pinks. She’s what the kids on the internet call a “clean girl”—at least that’s what Joel’s girlfriend said when I showed them a picture of her at dinner last night. “What do you do for fun?”
It’s a boring question, but it’s all I have to offer. Seline hasn’t been very talkative, only responding in a few hums and head shakes every time I ask a question. It’s almost like she’s out of breath. Who would’ve thought?
“Uh…working out…shopping…reading…the basic stuff,” she replies through stuttered breaths. “You?”
“I like to read,” I offer, hoping that might give us some common ground, especially considering I hate working out and shopping. “Sci-fi and the classics mostly.”
“Mm,” she hums. “I read non-fiction.”
Well, so much for that.
We continue on for a few more yards before I slow to a stop, feigning being out of breath as a way of hopefully getting myself out of this date. I hunch over, hands on knees, and take a minute to count every intake of breath.
“You alright?” she asks as she jogs back over. She settles her hand on my shoulder, but beyond the physical warmth of it, I feel nothing. No spark. No movement below the belt. Nothing more than I’d feel for a total stranger.
“Yeah, just…” I stand upright and rub at my chest. “Catching my breath.”
She chuckles, eyeing me like I’m suddenly easier to understand. “Not a runner, I take it?”
“Yes and no,” I breathe, catching my breath. “Ran track in college, but it’s been a while since I’ve gone for a long run like this.”
“And you thought it was a good idea for a first date?” she asks with a laugh as she settles her hands onto her hips and scans the lake beside us. “You could’ve just taken me for coffee, you know?”
“Thought that was a little…” My sentence fades as my attention catches on a familiar head of caramel highlighted curls a few yards down the trail.
Her back is turned to me as she bends down and tugs on one of the wheels of a stroller, so I can’t be sure that it’s really her, but…I can’t shake the familiarity. Like my body still remembers what it was like to be near her, even for the few hours we spent together, and now it’s honing in on that warmth like a beacon.
“Honey?” I call out, ignoring the woman beside me—the woman I’m supposed to be paying attention to—giving me a quizzical look.
Sure enough, Honey’s head turns towards me at the sound of my voice, her tightly coiled, shoulder length afro bobbing with the motion.
“Javi,” she sighs, like she’s been expecting me.
Like she’s been dreading me.
ONE YEAR AND THREE MONTHS AGO
“Mind if I take this seat?”
Her voice was the first thing to catch my attention. It was light without being bubbly, soft without being bashful, seductive without even trying. It was a sound I wanted to hear over and over again, in every way I could get it. Lazy morning yawns, late night rambling, stressed out bickering, soft sighs when we’d make up. I wanted to hear her in every scenario, all for me.
Then, when I got over the sound of her voice and really took a look at her, I was left in awe once again.
Eyes as warm and rich as liquid gold. Skin that was just a few shades darker. Dark coils styled into a neat bob with strands of caramel highlighted throughout. Her lips, oval and plump and covered in lipgloss, curved as she smiled at me like she could tell I was having a hard time forming words.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, slipping onto the barstool beside me. “Mostly because if I have to stand for another second, I think my legs might just give out on me, and then you’d have to swoop in like a hero, and then we’d fall in love, and I honestly can’t do commitment right now. Or…ever. Wish I could but—“
I was still staring. No—gawking. That’s the more apt word for what I was doing. Gawking like a fool with me jaw slack and eyes fixed on her every movement.
“I’m rambling,” she said, chuckling at herself before giving her head a shake. “My bad. Just had a shitty day and this is how I handle it. Rambling to a stranger and drinking myself numb at a fancy hotel bar. My name’s Honey, by the way. Since apparently you’re gonna be my drinking partner tonight.”
Finally breaking out of the spell she cast on me, I cleared my throat and faced forward, if only just to have a second to catch my breath. Lifting my glass of whiskey to my lips, I let it coat my tongue before sipping it down. I reach my hand out and give hers a shake. “Javi. So, what’s got you so rambly and in need of numbing?”
She sighed and leaned forward onto the bartop, resting her temple on her palm as she turned to me. “Men. Same as always.”
I nodded, still not looking at her. It was too much. She was too much. “Boyfriend or husband?”
“Neither,” she replied. “Just a first date that stood me up.”
My eyes slid to her, trailing up and down her frame. Lean legs, toned thighs, slender curves, the perfect chest. Everything about her was perfect. Infuriatingly so.
“He’s a fucking idiot.”
HONEY
“Javi.”
I knew this day would come at some point. I just never thought it would be so soon. Never thought it would be under these circumstances. Unplanned, out in the open.
My daughter’s father is right here, looking at me like I hung the moon, and he doesn’t even know he has a kid.
“Can I help?” He’s closing the distance between where he just was, talking about dates with the poster girl for corporate baddie, and where I’ve been standing for the last couple minutes trying to fix the wheel on Maribel’s stroller so that we could get the fuck out of here before he spotted us.
So much for that plan.
“It’s fine,” I say, waving him off before instinctively reaching for the little girl strapped to my chest. At five months, she’s heavier than she was when we started our morning walks in the sling carrier. I hadn’t even owned a stroller until a couple weeks ago, but the older she’s getting, the harder it is on my back to have her strapped to me everywhere we go, so I figured I’d give the stroller thing a chance.
She hated it.
I hated it.
The stroller clearly hated it.
“It’s no problem,” he insists, crouching down to look at the wheel. “Well, I think it’s safe to say you need a new wheel. This one’s fucked.”
“Yeah, I was gathering that,” I say, a bit more sharp than usual.
Okay, a lot more sharp than usual. I’m usually not sharp at all. Quick? Sure. Dry? Sometimes. Sharp? Hardly ever.
But this man has stirred so many different feelings inside me, I don’t even feel like myself.
Regret for the chance we lost out on.
Shame for the secret I’ve kept from him.
Anger for him popping into my life at the most inconvenient time.
Guilt for what I’ve stolen from him and can never give back.
Javier stands to his full height and lets his eyes wander over me, lingering on the five-month-old squirming around trying to get a good look at him, too.
“Nannying?” he asks, dark eyes—the same ones his daughter has—narrowing just the slightest.
I don’t respond to his question, instead choosing to nudge my chin towards the woman over his shoulder. The one now running in the direction they came from. “Looks like your date ditched you.”
He doesn’t even bother turning his head. “Too bad. Who’s kid?”
I sigh, letting my eyes fall to the head of soft, dark curls and the brown eyes that turn to look up at me in response to my hand smoothing over her back.
“Mine,” I finally admit, though I can’t bring myself to meet his eyes.
He swallows, nodding once. “Congrats.”
Just the sound of him congratulating me on the birth of our daughter without him knowing that he’s just as responsible for this beautiful baby girl has my stomach feeling sick.
“Javi, I—“
“I thought you didn’t do commitment?” he asks, interrupting what was about to be my confession. “At least, you didn’t want…you know…back then.”
My mind wanders back to that night, the scene playing back as clear as if it happened an hour ago and not over a year.
“So, former DEA turned…what?” I asked, swirling the straw around my tequila soda as I watched him toss back a sip of his whiskey. Just the way he drank turned me on, the bob of his throat, the way he holds the glass. I couldn’t begin to imagine what it would do to me once those hands found their way onto my skin.
“Not sure yet,” he said. “My dad has a ranch back home in Laredo. Might stick around and help him out.”
“You don’t live in Austin, then?”
He shook his head. “Just visiting a friend from college.”
I bit my lip and lowered my gaze to my drink. “A male friend or a female friend?”
He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Male. And for the record, I’m straight. Wouldn’t go for him even if I wasn’t.”
“And what about me?” I asked, finding my boldness. My eyelashes batted at him in the way that always got me what I wanted when it came to men—the only skill dating ever taught me. “Would you go for me?”
His eyes wandered over my face, down to my chest, legs, and back up. “In a heartbeat.”
He leaned in, close enough that I could feel his breath on my lips, but before he got too close, I stopped him.
“Am I reading this wrong?” he asked, eyes dancing between mine.
“No, I just…I don’t do the whole commitment thing,” I warned, hoping to whatever God that’s out there that he wasn’t one of those men who expected more from me than I could give. “In case, you know, you thought this was something else.”
He shook his head. “I’m okay with no commitment, Honey.”
“Yeah, I didn’t,” I say, shaking my head. “I mean, I don’t. Except her. She’s a commitment I’d make over and over again.”
Say it.
Tell him.
I want to so bad, just…not here. Not now. Not out in the open like this.
“She’s got pretty eyes,” he notes, trying and failing to produce a smile. “And your nose.”
I swallow thickly, watching him study her.
He’s about to turn away, to leave us be forever, and maybe I should let go. Maybe it’s easier that way. But I don’t.
I can’t.
“Javi,” I sigh, drawing his eyes to mine. “Can we talk?”
His brows furrow, but he nods anyway. Clearing his throat, he licks his lips and gestures to the picnic table a few yards away. “Sure. Yeah.”
JAVI
“I, um, I want to start from the beginning. I just…I think it’s important for you to understand why I did what I did.”
My heart is beating out of my chest as I sit in front of Honey and her baby, the one with eyes that match the ones I see every morning in the mirror.
“Okay,” I manage softly. It’s hard work convincing myself that this isn’t what my gut is telling me it is, but I force myself to believe it anyway. After all, who has a baby with someone and chooses not to tell them? What kind of person keeps that from somebody?
“When we met, I wasn’t looking for anything serious,” she starts. “I was having fun, dating around. Men had always found a way to let me down, so I’d given up on trying again. But deep down, I always wanted to be a mom. I’d considered using a donor, adoption, fostering, you name it. But then even that started to feel…” She sighs and looks down at the sleeping girl strapped to her chest before continuing. “After the night we shared, the last thing I expected was to take a test and find out I was pregnant. And you were so vocal about not wanting anything serious; about not being settled. I didn’t want to risk—“
“Hold on,” I say, lifting my hand up as my mind tries to wrap itself around what she’s saying.
“I just thought if I told you, then you’d tell me to get rid of it—of her—and I couldn’t take that chance,” she says hurriedly. “I knew without a doubt I wanted her, but I didn’t think you…”
All the air in my lungs vanishes in a sharp exhale as the world around me starts to spin. I lean forward onto my elbows, covering my face. “You’re telling me she’s…You’re telling me I have a daughter? And I missed the first five months of her life?”
I can hear her crying softly, but I can’t will myself to look at her.
In this moment, all I know is that I hate her.
I hate this woman and nothing can change that, except maybe the little girl in her arms.
“Javi, I’m sorry,” she says through her tears. “I was going to tell you. So many times I thought about tracking you down. I even drove to Laredo once, but I just…I was so scared. I didn’t—“
“You’re sure she’s mine?” My head snaps up, eyes steeled and expression cold. I can’t let myself buy into this yet, no matter how much my heart aches to reach out and hold that little girl in front of me. “You said it yourself. You were having fun. You sure it’s not someone else’s?”
“You’re the only person I fucked that summer, Javi,” she says dryly as she wipes her eyes. “So yes, I’m sure.”
I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to find my calm. But I can’t. All that flashes in my mind is imaginary scenarios of Honey pregnant with my baby, building a crib on her own, going to appointments by herself, giving birth by herself. Then, I start to imagine all the moments I missed out on. Her first breaths, her first cry, her first bath. So many inconsequential moments, and yet they feel momentous right now. Like I’ll forever be missing a foundation with her.
“Fuck!” I snap, hissing as I stand up and start to pace. “I missed…fuck, I can’t even think.”
Then, as if I’m not feeling dizzy enough, that little girl—the one whose name I don’t even know—starts to cry, and it’s all because of me. My eyes find hers, both of ours red and watery with the same dark irises. On instinct, I move closer to her, close enough that I can smell her mother’s vanilla perfume and the baby powder on our daughter.
Her crying stops, turning into hiccups as she gazes up at me, transfixed by something on my face. She starts to smile, lifting her hand towards me and making grabby hands at me before touching her upper lip.
Honey chuckles, the sound weak. “I think she likes your mustache.”
I release the breath I was holding and soften a bit.
I may not like how this story started. I may hate Honey for stealing all those moments from me. But all I can do now is change how the story ends.
“Can I hold her?” I ask, swallowing my nerves down.
“Of course,” Honey says before quickly undoing the sling holding our daughter to her chest. She hands her to me like she’s still a little bit scared that I may not want this. I probably should be a little hesitant, too. But I’m not. “Just…be careful with her.”
“I will,” I say, taking her into my arms. “What’s her name?”
“Maribel,” she says, smiling wistfully at her daughter as Maribel reaches up to touch my mustache. “Maribel Javiera Thomas.”
My eyes flick up to meet Honey’s, so many unspoken feelings in both of our gazes.
“I didn’t know your last name,” she explains. “But I wanted to give her a part of you. We can change it. Hyphen it. I…I want that, honestly. If you’re going to be in her life, that is.”
“I am.” There’s no room for argument in my tone. I will be in Maribel’s life, whether or not Honey wants me to. If I have to go through the court system to get shared custody, I will. But looking at Honey, I don’t think I’m going to have to do any of that.
Despite how scared she clearly is over all of this, I can see that this is what she wanted all along. Maybe not me, not forever. But she wanted her daughter to have both parents in her life.
I want that, too.
“Here,” she says, breaking the silence. “Here’s my number. Call me whenever and we can set up a day to go meet with a family lawyer. Until we figure out our custody arrangement, you can always stop by and see her. Just shoot me a text and we can figure it out.”
I nod, though my eyes don’t leave Maribel’s face. She looks so much like her mom. So much like me. It’s…intimidating. Looking down at a being you created, knowing they have an entire future because of two random people coming together.
Honey and I may not be anything more than a one night stand, but we’ll always have this common thread binding us together. So, resentment aside, I’m going to make this arrangement work.
All I need to do is make sure she’s on the same page.
chapter warnings: series is 18+ only, MINORS DNI, age gap (reader's age is set at 25, joel is 40), best friend's dad trope, reader works at a bikini bar (race is a blank slate but reader is described as being curvy/plus size and is very much comfortable in her skin), divorced!joel, dual POV, angst, a smidge of PTSD, oral sex m!rec, unprotected piv, breeding kink, dirty talk, dom!joel, derogatory language (slut, mostly), the blow up we've all been waiting for, tw: heart attack
5/5🌶️
a/n: hope you all get to enjoy meeting Honey for the first time :) and i hope it makes up for the angst :) (also not proofread bc i'm lazy)
word count: 4.5k
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JOEL
“Still at it, I take it.” The sound of Tommy’s voice as he steps into my office pulls my attention from the stack of inventory paperwork I’ve been dealing with all morning. Carrying two coffees, he walks over and hands me one before sitting down in one of the armchairs across from me.
“All mornin’,” I say with a sigh as I lift the fresh cup of coffee to my lips and savor the taste. “You headin’ out to that project by the university? Heard the crew bitchin’ and moanin’ about the heat earlier. Might wanna stop and grab ‘em some Gatorade or somethin’. Keep the spirits up.”
Tommy nods but doesn’t say anything else as he sits there, drumming his hands on the arms of the chair.
“Anythin’ you want to talk about?” I ask, because clearly he isn’t going to start without a push. “Or are you still too pissed about my personal choices to talk to me anymore?”
He scoffs and rolls his eyes lightheartedly. “I’ve made my peace with it. You’re a grown man and she’s an adult. Clearly, it’s not somethin’ fleetin’, otherwise she’d be long gone by now. So, congratulations on finally gettin’ some, I guess.”
“You’re an idiot,” I murmur with an eye roll.
“I just came to check in on you,” he continues, ignoring my jab. “Javi told me a little bit about what happened last weekend. Just, y’know, wanted to make sure y’all were alright.”
“Yeah,” I whisper, rubbing my hand against the back of my neck as Blue comes to mind.
She’d been alright up until a few nights ago.
It was storming out, thunder and lightning and gusts of wind causing tree branches to scratch at the house. I was downstairs looking over the schedule for the new apartment complex we signed on to start this autumn when a particularly loud clap of thunder hit. Blue woke up so disoriented and scared, she’d thought I was gone and that the thunder was the sound of an intruder.
It took hours for her to calm down enough to go back to sleep.
Since then, I’ve taken all my work upstairs and haven’t left her alone up there since.
“We’re alright,” I say, despite it not being the entire truth. Her business just isn’t mine to share. “There’s a court date later this month to grant her a restraining order. Everything else is up to the judge after that.”
“Hope the fucker gets time,” Tommy says, shaking his head. “Peña said the kid was half y’all’s size. Should’ve done worse than a broken nose.”
I scoff and roll my eyes. “S’not like I stood there and watched him. I did what I could do.”
Tommy heaves out a sigh and lets his head tilt back between his shoulders. “I’m sick of constantly bickerin’ with you. What do I gotta do to get back to normal?”
“This is our normal,” I say with a shrug. “You piss me off and I bitch and moan for a while and then we act like it never happened. Then it’s my turn to piss you off and the cycle repeats.”
“Yeah, well I’m over bein’ pissed off at you,” he says with a chuckle.
“Actually, I was the one who was pissed off.”
He laughs, shaking his head as he stands. “Well, dinner tomorrow night at my house. Maria’s draggin’ Sarah’s ass down here with a classic guilt trip, so it’ll be a family night.”
I nod, though my mind wanders to Blue.
I don’t want to leave her alone yet. It’s too soon after everything. Just the thought of her alone and scared in that big house…
“You can survive a few hours without your secret girlfriend, you old sap,” he says, snickering at me as he makes his way out of the office.
“I’ll take it.”
The salesman at the local Honda dealership is all too excited that you’ve decided to drive off with the Civic from 2015 after putting half of the price down in cash. Sure, you’ve drained your entire savings and checking account, but at least now there’s one less thing to feel bad for when it comes to Joel.
You’re already staying at his place rent free with no job, the least you can do is get your own car so he can stop having to drive you everywhere.
Besides, now you have the freedom to start your job search. Your real, grown up job search.
After signing your name more times than you think you ever have, you walk out of the dealership with a pair of keys, a packet of paperwork, and a free air freshener in hand. The buyer's remorse fades to only a small, nagging feeling the second you get in your new car and drive off the lot. Windows down, stereo too loud—it’s everything you’ve missed and more. Freedom, solitude, the feeling of having something that’s all yours.
You drive through town with a smile before deciding to pull up to Joel’s office. It’s been too long since you’ve seen him—six hours, to be exact. In another life, you would’ve laughed at the girl who couldn’t go a quarter of the day without seeing her boyfriend. In this one, though, you can’t be bothered to care.
“Hi, how can I help you?” The pretty woman at reception with Honey engraved on her name tag smiles at you, and for a second, you’re left speechless by the sight of her. She doesn’t look to be much older than you, with brown skin, a curly afro, and eyes that match her namesake all coming together to form a woman that looks less like an administrative assistant and more like someone who belongs on the cover of Vogue.
“Hi,” you say, suddenly all too aware that you’ve gone makeup free today. “Um, I was wondering if Joel was in his office? I’m a…family friend.”
Her smile is kind as she nods. “Yeah, he’s back in his office. Let me give him a call and see if he’s busy.”
“Thanks,” you say, fidgeting with your hands as she lifts the phone to her ear and dials his extension.
“Hey, Joel. There’s a pretty girl here to see you. You busy?” She gives you a conspiratorial wink, as if she can see right through you, and chuckles into the phone. A very informal environment the Millers have created here at the office, it seems. “What was your name?”
“Just tell him Blue is here.”
“She says her name is Blue…Alright, I’ll send her your way.” Hanging the phone up, she lets out a sigh and smiles affectionately. “One thing about my cousin, he doesn’t like to get off his ass for shit. Not even for a beauty like you. And I love your T-shirt, by the way.”
You glance down, forgetting that you’re wearing your favorite band tee. “Wha—uh, thank you. You said Joel was your cousin?”
“In-law, I guess,” she says as she rounds the counter. Only now do you realize that she’s got a sleeping infant strapped to her chest in a sling, her slightly less curly but equally dark brown hair poking out from the neckline. “Maria’s my cousin. Makes Joel my…I don’t really know the technical term, but he’s a pain in the ass like family, regardless.”
You laugh, and for the first time since the night everything went down, it sounds normal. Joel’s been able to pull a few of them out of you this week—mostly unintentionally—but it feels nice to laugh with someone you’re not in love with.
Not that you’re in love with Joel.
Alright, maybe you’re in love.
Definitely, probably, seriously in love.
“He definitely has his moods,” you say. “But he’s alright, I guess. Kinda cute underneath all the grumpiness.”
She feigns gagging. “Ew. No. Please don't start.”
The two of you chuckle together as you approach the door that has a plaque reading JOEL MILLER, CEO. It’s an easy camaraderie, this quick friendship you’ve struck with Honey. So unlike the tension between you and Sarah these days. Talking with Honey feels like it did back when you and Sarah first met, aside from the newborn and the fact that you’re both closer to thirty than eighteen.
“Here’s your stop,” she says, resting her hand against the newborn strapped to her chest. “Enjoy your meeting with Uncle Grumpy.”
“Is that what you guys call him?” you laugh.
“Benji started it,” she says as she walks back to her desk.
You watch her leave, waiting for her to be out of earshot before knocking on Joel’s office. It takes all of a second for him to open the door and pull you in by the waist, his lips finding yours before you can even take a breath.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he sighs, trailing his lips down your neck as he presses you against the closed door.
“I should stop by and surprise you more often,” you giggle, tilting your neck back to give him better access to that spot that has your thighs squeezing together.
Joel’s hands slide over your waist, down to the fleshy globes of your ass to give them a squeeze before he’s abruptly pulling back. “Wait—how the hell did you get here?” he asks with a crease between his brows. “Please don’t tell me you took an Uber. You know how I feel about the creepy fuckin’ men who—“
You roll your eyes affectionately and reach a hand up to cup his cheek. “I didn’t take an Uber. Well, I did earlier…over to the dealership.”
His eyebrows lift, a soft smile growing on his face. “You got a car?“
“Mmhm. So now you don’t have to worry about driving me everywhere.”
He frowns and gives his head a soft shake. “M’proud of you, Blue, but you’ll never be the burden you think you are. Not to me.” Leaning in, he gives your cheek a kiss before moving you out of the doorway so that he can open it. “C’mon then, let’s go see what you picked out.”
JOEL
I’m going to miss driving Blue around everywhere.
That’s the only thing floating through my mind as Blue leads me out of the office, taking a second to stop by Honey’s desk and assure her I’m not Uncle Grumpy today, though how she learned about that little nickname, I can only guess. One wink from cousin, and I can tell she and Blue are going to be fast friends.
As we head out into the parking lot, I’m immediately drawn to the baby blue Civic with one of those over the top red bows on the hood that’s sitting right beside my truck.
“You think the blue’s too much?” she asks as she watches me stare at the chariot that’s going to be in charge of getting her around town safely like it might be my enemy.
Realistically, I know it’s a solid, dependable car. A good choice on her part. I’m just pouting over the fact that I’ll no longer have her sitting shotgun beside me anytime she needs to go somewhere. But the reasonable side of me couldn’t be more excited for Blue and the independence this car affords. She’s been cooped up at the house too long. Time for her to get back out there into the world and figure out what she wants her next steps to be. Ones that hopefully include me.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “No, it’s…it’s you. It’s perfect.”
She smiles bashfully and wags her car keys at me. “Wanna take me for a drive?” she asks, biting her lip in a way that can only mean trouble. I quirk an eyebrow at her as she saunters backwards towards the passenger side. “There’s a whole backseat I have to test out, after all.”
“You tryin’ to get me to play hooky and fuck you in the backseat of your car like we’re in high school?” I make a show out of checking my watch and sighing, but one glance up at Blue and all of that goes out the window. She sits in the passenger seat, one hand tugging the hem of her T-shirt up and over her bra while the other ventures off down south where I can’t see.
I’m hopping into the driver’s seat in record time.
“Y’know we got cameras all over this parking lot?” I ask as I fumble with the keys and turn the ignition. “They just caught a nice view of your pretty fuckin’ tits, baby.”
“Good,” she says, pressing her cleavage together just to tease me. “Then you’ll get to watch it back all you want, Mr. CEO.”
“Fuck me,” I groan, putting the car in reverse before peeling out of the lot. My right hand finds her thigh, creeping up on the soft skin there until my fingertips are sliding over the denim covering her pussy. “We gotta make this quick, baby. Alright?” She nods eagerly as my fingers press against her in tight circles, her eyes lidded and bottom lip caught between her teeth. “You’re gonna come when I tell you to come, ain’t you, baby girl?”
“Fuck, yes,” she moans, grinding her hips into my hand.
“Where you gonna take my come at, baby? You gonna take it in here?” I tap on her pussy, earning a whine.
“I want to feel it all the way home,” she says, reaching over to palm my dick through my jeans.
My dick weeps at the image she’s painting. Shit, I almost weep. She’s just…perfect. Everything that comes out of her mouth is perfect. She knows exactly what to say, what I need to hear, what I’ve always wanted to hear. She knows how to turn me on, to comfort me, to put me in my place.
She just…knows me.
It fills my head with crazy ideas like her dressed in white, or her barefoot and pregnant in the summertime, or her coming home after a long day at work and joining me in the bath. I can’t shake the feeling of forever when it comes to this woman, and I’m not sure I even want to.
“Baby, keep talking like that and we won’t make it another block without my dick inside you,” I warn, but it only makes her smirk. She leans over the center console and reaches for my belt, undoing it before unzipping my jeans. “What do you think you’re doin’, Trouble?”
“What’s it look like?” she says as she pulls me out of my jeans and grips me in her hand. “I’m putting your dick inside me, just like you wanted.”
My hands grip the steering wheel hard enough for my knuckles to turn white as she wraps her lips around me and takes me into her mouth. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Blue.”
One hand leaves the steering wheel to rest on her head, guiding her to take me in deeper. She hums around me, sucking and stroking me like she gets off on it. I know her well enough by now to know that she loves this just as much as I love eating her pussy. It’s a match made in heaven, that way. Two givers who know how to take when they need to.
“Fuck,” I growl when the head of my cock hits her throat and she swallows around me. Pulling the car into the side of the road, I give up hope trying to find somewhere more secluded.
It’s not like this area is super populated anyway. Just a bunch of warehouses, factories, and labor companies that have better things to do with their time than to spy on two people fooling around on the side of the road.
“Alright,” I say, pulling her off my cock. She looks up at me with wet lips and wide eyes.
“I wasn’t finished,” she says.
“Well, if you kept goin’ any longer, I certainly was gonna be,” I say with a chuckle. “And I want this pussy too bad to come in your mouth, baby. So c’mon. Come sit on my dick.”
She lets out a soft whimper and scrambles to do as I say. I slide the seat all the way back and shuck my jeans down enough to free myself comfortably while she gets rid of her shorts all together. Leaving her T-shirt on, she climbs over and sits on my lap, facing away from me.
“You remember what I said?” I ask, gripping the base of my cock to line it up with her entrance. “You come when I tell y’too, darlin’.”
“Mmhm,” she whines, pressing down onto my cock until she’s sitting flush with my lap.
You and Joel let out the same needy, primal, vulgar moan as your cunt stretches to take him in to the hilt. He’s so big, not only in length but in girth, that no matter how many times you do this, it’s always a tight fit. But you savor the slight burn of his cock spreading you open just as much as the relief that comes with that first stroke of him against that needy spot inside you that’s always demanding his attention.
“Fuckin’ Christ, Blue,” he groans as his hands dig into the plush flesh of your hips to guide you up and down on his cock. “This pussy’s fuckin’ heaven.”
You whine your response, too honed in on your pleasure to form a sentence. Every bounce on his lap has your cunt fluttering and dripping onto his lap. Every groan of his into your ear has you seeing stars. It’s a warm, tingling, almost unbearable feeling that stirs in your belly, low and rooted right where he’s fucking you. It ruins your face, furrowing your brows, narrowing your eyes, parting your lips. You’d love nothing more than to die just like this, floating away in ecstasy on Joel’s lap.
“God,” you sob as his hand slides over your stomach and down to rub circles against your clit. You’ve never been much of a crier, especially not during sex, but every time you’re with Joel it feels like a holy experience. Tears slide down your cheeks without you even realizing, but his lips are always right there to catch them.
“Takin’ me so fuckin’ well, Blue,” he whispers as he kisses the tears off your face. “I love this fuckin’ pussy. Love…love you. God, I love you.”
His confession only registers halfway, but it doesn't scare you like it always has when other men have tried to declare their love. With them, it always felt shallow. Like you knew it meant nothing even before they had the chance to show you.
With Joel, it feels like all the pieces are falling into place.
“Fuck, Blue,” he whimpers—literally whimpers—into your ear. “Need you t’come, baby. Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ perfect.”
You don’t need to be told twice. With a few hard bounces on his cock and your hand resting over his on your clit, your pussy spasms around him like a vice grip. “Joeeeeel, fuck!”
“Shit,” he hisses, nipping at your shoulder as you grind on his lap, riding out the waves of your orgasm. “Shit, baby, I’m--fuck, I’m gonna come. You need to--”
“Come inside me,” you beg as you start bouncing on him again, this time reaching down between your bodies to cup his balls. “Please, I want it. I fucking need it, Joel.”
“Fuck--Christ,” he hisses through his teeth as his breath comes out sharp and ragged, his hips rutting up into you hard enough to make your skin sting. “Take it all. Take my come, Blue.”
“I love it, Joel,” you muse, reaching up to spread your fingers around where he’s still inside you, pulsing. You turn to look at him over your shoulder as you bring your messy fingers up to your lips to suck them clean, earning a groan before he’s crushing his mouth against yours.
“We taste damn good together,” he hums, nipping at your bottom lip.
“I heard what you said,” you mutter, pulling away enough to look at him. “Did you mean it this time? That, you know, you love me?”
He swallows, his throat bobbing with the motion, before he cracks a timid smile and nods. “Yeah, Blue. I meant it.”
Biting your lip, you lean in and rest your head in the crook of his neck. “I’ve never told someone I love them before. Not…in this way.”
“You don’t have to--”
“But I love you, Joel.” He stops, his lips parting and then closing and then parting again. “I can’t explain why, or how we got here, but I know in my soul that I’ve never felt this way for anyone but you. The way you protect me, the way you care about me, the selflessness you show, not just to me but to everyone around you…I love you. And, it’s because I love you that I think it might be time to finally tell Sarah.”
He breathes in a deep breath and looks away, out of the windshield. “Yeah, I know. I just…worry.”
“I do, too, but--” You lift yourself off of him, chuckling at how awkward it is to be leaking his come while talking about a huge life decision, but it’s so on brand for the two of you. Settling down in the passenger seat with your shorts tugged back on, you let out a sigh and reach for his hand. “I don’t want to love you in secret. I want to be able to show up to your job like I did today and ask to see my boyfriend, not a family friend. Better yet, I want Honey to just know who I am and why I’m there without me even having to say anything. I want to be able to sleep in your room without worrying if Sarah’s going to make a surprise appearance and catch us. I want to go on dates and plan a life together that doesn’t feel like I’m just your daughter’s friend who moved in out of necessity. I want to live at your place because we’re together, or maybe get my own place that you’ll have the key to--”
“You’re stayin’ with me,” he says, cutting that scenario in the bud. “Everything else, though…I want that too. I just…I’ll just have to find a way to tell her on my own. If we both corner her, she’s gonna freak out.”
“I agree,” you nod. “Maybe this weekend, you can go up to visit her?”
He shakes his head. “Tommy’s havin’ a family dinner at his place tomorrow. I guess I can tell her then. After, I mean. I’ll pull her aside and just spit it out. ‘I’m in love with your best friend, please don’t hate us, kiddo.’”
You wince. “Yeah, this is…”
“The hardest part,” he says, lifting your hand to his lips. “But once it’s over, we can all start to move on.”
“Hopefully,” you add, giving him a skeptical smile. He laughs, kissing your knuckles once more before righting himself and sliding the seat forward. “Or it could all go to shit, only one way to find out.”
JOEL
Both Blue and I are all smiles as we walk back into the office. I hold the door open for her and give her ass a swat as she passes me just because I can. But unfortunately, my timing couldn’t be worse.
“Dad? What the fuck? Did you just smack her ass?” Sarah is standing at reception with honey, cradling her newborn cousin in her arms while staring at me like I just killed a dog in front of her. Then, her face morphs from shock to anger as her gaze turns to Blue. “Oh hell no. Please tell me that you’re not hooking up with my dad. Please tell me you’re not that shitty of a person that you’d stoop so low as to fuck my father just because he’s giving you a roof over your head. Ew—wait, is this some sugar baby arrangement? Are you the reason she quit her job? Because you’re paying for everything? That’s a little slutty, even for a bikini bartender, dude.”
“Sarah,” I snap, pointing a stern finger at her. “That’s enough.”
Blue can’t take it, and I don’t blame her. Without saying a word, she leaves through the door and hops in her car to go anywhere but here. Anywhere that doesn’t mean getting called every name under the sun by her best friend.
“Oh, you’re going to defend your little midlife crisis?” Sarah challenges. Honey swoops in and plucks her baby from Sarah’s arms before heading off to the breakroom. I don’t doubt she left the door cracked open on purpose, just to eavesdrop on the drama. Nor can I blame her. This is juicy shit, a father and daughter going head to head because I fucked around and fell in love with her best friend. Not the everyday office gossip.
“She ain’t that. Whatever you think this is, it ain’t that,” I say firmly, taking a step closer to her. “Blue and I met—”
“Blue? Isn’t that her stripper name?” Sarah scoffs. “That’s what this is, Dad. You’re a sugar daddy, and she’s the stripper you think you love. That’s all this is, and it’s pathetic.”
She gets the best of me, forcing me down to her level. “And what about your boyfriend? The man that’s older than me and used to date your stepmother. I’m guessing that’s one hundred percent above board, ain’t it? Nothin’ scandalous about that, is there?”
She grinds her teeth and shakes her head. “He’s not your best friend.”
I nod, still seething. “I know. I know what she is to you, and I’m sorry that I crossed that line. I tried my damnedest not to, Sarah. But…I met her before I knew she was your friend. We hit it off before I ever knew she was off limits. And we tried to put an end to it, we really did. But some things just…” I sigh, raking my hand over my hair. “I love her, and it ain’t about looks or age or convenience. I love her because she fits into my life in a way that I’ve never had. Not with your mom, not with Shannan. Not with anybody. I hope that means as much to you as it does to me, because, baby girl, I don’t want to lose you. But I can’t lose her, either. And I don’t want the two of you to lose each other. Y’all have been through too much--”
“If she felt that way, she wouldn’t have started sleeping with my dad,” Sarah interjects, simple and brutal. My eyes close as she pushes past me to the door. “And in case you were wondering, I stopped by to tell you I’m pregnant. Not that you’ll be in my kid’s life since me and their father are so fucking scandalous. Asshole.”
And just like that, after years of mistaking my panic attacks for the real thing, I have my very first heart attack.
I think it’s really nice you’re changing the name of your fic/character since another author already used it. Very cool girl (gn) behavior. Here’s some ideas on other names in case any of them help- Ruby, Roxy, Bliss, Dream, Rose, Poppy, Berry, Honey, Petal, Goldie, Blossom, Peach, Penny
Your fic sounds great and I really look forward to reading it!!!
just now seeing this for some reason, but definitely going to use this for my spin-offs!!! thinking maybe peach for the next story after Honey??? let me know what everyone thinks!!!
I love love your writing! Can’t wait for honey!! I hope you’re doing well!
thank you so much!! i’m doing pretty good (aside from my wisdom teeth acting up) but i’ve had a few job interviews this week so fingers crossed i’ll be employed again soon🤞🏽
series warnings: Explicit Content, MINORS DNI, one night stand turned pregnancy trope (i totally get it if this isn’t your thing, feel free to just skip this one), duo POV, part of my blue-verse (which might have another spin-off in the think tank w/no pregnancy/babies if that’s your thing!!), “platonic” co-parenting (yeah…right), grief, javi is a reformed slut, reader is a reformed commitment-phobe, the rest will come as the series progresses!
summary: ⬇️
HONEY
After spending one passionate summer night a year and three months ago with a handsome, detached stranger, I come face to face with him again. Only this time, my five month old daughter—our daughter—is here, too. I assumed he’d never want this—her—so I never told him. He didn’t live in Austin, anyway. No harm, no foul.
Except, maybe I had Javier Peña all wrong.
JAVI
The last person I expected to run into on my first real date since moving to Austin last fall was the honey-eyed woman that has been haunting my fantasies since our one night of passion last summer. I certainly didn’t expect the curly headed little girl, with eyes far too close to mine, strapped to her chest and staring up at me. It seems too far-fetched to believe she could be mine, and yet, that’s exactly what she is. But after all this time of not knowing—of not being here—it’s not a matter of whether or not I can love my daughter.
Just sitting here wondering how Blue and Joel were and what they might be up now after all the drama! Also really looking forward to the new fic with Javi. Love your work!! 💙💙
they're currently fooling around in Blue's new car!! new chapter will be posted a little bit before the first chapter of Honey tomorrow :)
and just an authors note while i'm at it: these stories are interconnected and almost concurrent (Blue is currently set in early august while Honey starts off in mid-september) but there will be appearances from each couple in both stories!!
series warnings: Explicit Content, MINORS DNI, one night stand turned pregnancy trope (i totally get it if this isn’t your thing, feel free to just skip this one), duo POV, part of my blue-verse (which might have another spin-off in the think tank w/no pregnancy/babies if that’s your thing!!), “platonic” co-parenting (yeah…right), grief, javi is a reformed slut, reader is a reformed commitment-phobe, the rest will come as the series progresses!
summary: ⬇️
HONEY
After spending one passionate summer night a year and three months ago with a handsome, detached stranger, I come face to face with him again. Only this time, my five month old daughter—our daughter—is here, too. I assumed he’d never want this—her—so I never told him. He didn’t live in Austin, anyway. No harm, no foul.
Except, maybe I had Javier Peña all wrong.
JAVI
The last person I expected to run into on my first real date since moving to Austin last fall was the honey-eyed woman that has been haunting my fantasies since our one night of passion last summer. I certainly didn’t expect the curly headed little girl, with eyes far too close to mine, strapped to her chest and staring up at me. It seems too far-fetched to believe she could be mine, and yet, that’s exactly what she is. But after all this time of not knowing—of not being here—it’s not a matter of whether or not I can love my daughter.
chapter warnings: series is 18+ only, MINORS DNI, age gap (reader's age is set at 25, joel is 40), best friend's dad trope, reader works at a bikini bar (race is a blank slate but reader is described as being curvy/plus size and is very much comfortable in her skin), divorced!joel, dual POV, death talk (not a main character), grief talk, mild angst, sexual harrassment/attempted assault/stalking (no actual SA), unprotected piv, breeding kink, dirty talk, good ole fashioned booty munchin, dom!joel, fingering, joel cleans up after himself 5/5🌶️
a/n: had such a long day and i’m fighting sleep as i type this so i didn’t bother proofreading, will prob come back in the morning to fix the inevitable typos!! :)
word count: 8.8k (she's a doozy)
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The hospital is cold and the air smells sterile as you sit in the waiting room whole Joel goes down to the morgue to identify his ex-wife’s body.
Jesus.
It had only been a handful of hours since she was walking up to you, flaunting that perfect smile and those dazzling green eyes that had you feeling murderous with envy. And now, she’s gone. Lost to a car accident she caused by driving drunk—or at least that’s what Tommy’s Sheriff buddy thinks it was.
Joel has been oddly normal given the circumstances, despite a few tears shedding when he called up Shannan’s parents and broke the news. Sometimes, it’s difficult to reckon the fact that for seventeen years, they were married. Shared a family, even if Sarah wasn’t biologically hers. Joel spent Christmases and birthdays with her and her extended family, and now he’s here waiting for her parents to drive up from San Antonio to say their goodbyes to their daughter.
And the worst part—the part that is eating you alive despite Joel’s assurance that you have no reason to feel guilty—is that while Shannan was laying on the side of the road, lifeless and cold, you were fucking her ex-husband.
It’s hard to not feel guilty when your mind paints a picture like that.
Your knee is bouncing in place and your hands are picking at the frayed cuffs of Joel’s University of Texas hoodie he lent you when an older couple rushes past the automatic doors and up to the main desk in the hospital lobby.
“My daughter—“ The older woman chokes on a sob as she tries to speak. The man beside her reaches for her and pulls her into his side, rubbing soothing circles on her back.
“Our daughter was brought into the…morgue,” he manages through his own tears. “Her name is—sorry, was Shannan Miller. “
A long, shaky breath huffs out of your chest at the sight of the distraught pair. The unimaginable weight of their grief passes onto you as you stand up and make your way to them. “Excuse me?”
They turn to face you, eyeing you warily.
“I’m a friend of Sarah’s,” you say, swallowing down your guilt. “Joel—uh, Mr. Miller is down in the morgue right now.”
“Could you call him for us, sweetheart?” Shannan’s mother asks through ragged breaths and hiccups.
“Yeah, of course.” You nod and tug out your phone, dialing Joel’s number.
“Hey,” he answers immediately. “Y’alright, honey?”
God, his voice is a balm that your chafing heart has been desperately needing. It soothes and calms, like a warm cup of tea in the middle of winter.
“Yeah, just…uh, Shannan’s parents are here,” you say.
“Oh,” he says, sucking in a sharp breath. “Alright, I’ll head back up and send them down. I just finished all the paperwork on my end, so…guess we’ll leave and give ‘em some space.”
“Okay,” you say, that lump in the back of your throat returning. “See you soon.”
You hang up and stuff your phone into your back pocket. “He’s going to be here in a second, and then he said you guys are free to go down there and see her.”
“Thank you, honey,” Shannan’s father says.
“Did you know our baby girl?” her mother asks through sniffles.
“I met her a few times,” you say, keeping the details vague for their sake.
Shannan’s parents nod and give you a soft smile.
“She was such a beautiful girl,” her mother says wistfully. “Kind to the bone.”
Not wanting to burst her bubble with the truth that while Shannan was certainly beautiful, kind isn’t the word you’d use to describe her, you smile and nod. “She was. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank l you, dear,” she says before turning back to the lady at the front desk to get their visitors' pass sorted.
You’re thankful for the gentle dismissal, using the moment to sneak outside. You find your way to Joel’s truck and since it’s locked up, you unlatch the tailgate and hoist yourself up onto it. You stay there, sweating in the summer heat as Joel’s oversized and threadbare hoodie wraps around you like one of his hugs. It’s a necessary comfort, smelling the faintest hint of his body wash on the cotton. It makes you feel less like a terrible person, living a life full of lies and half-truths.
Joel is the only person who gets your honesty, and even that has been a learning curve. It’s ironic in a way, and it’s beautiful in another.
You sit outside staring at the stars for fifteen minutes before Joel finds you.
“Thought you left,” he says, the words coming out more vulnerable than you think he meant them to.
“No,” you say, and it comes out like a promise. I’m never leaving, not unless you ask me to. “Just needed some air.”
He smiles softly and nods as he joins you on the tailgate. He’s sitting close enough that you can feel his warmth, but far enough that if anyone you knew stopped the two of you, it wouldn’t give anything away.
“You met her parents, I take it?” he asks, nudging your shoulder with his.
“They’re nice,” you note, and it’s the truth. How the apple fell so far from the tree, you don’t know.
“Makes ya wonder,” he says, shaking his head as a chuckle escapes him.
Your eyes fix on his profile, lit up by the fluorescent hospital lights. He doesn’t look like a man in grief, he looks at peace. At worst, he looks like a man who’s exhausted from having to come here in the dead of night and act as someone’s next of kin that he considers nothing more than a stranger.
“What did she do that made you hate her so much?” you ask without paying much mind to how insensitive it might come across. Joel isn’t offended though, he simply shrugs and lets out a long sigh.
“I don’t know if I hate her, but…Shannan did a lot of shit in our seventeen years of bein’ together that makes it easy to say goodbye,” he says, rubbing his hands up and down his denim clad thighs.
You realize you were wrong. Joel isn’t at peace, he’s anxious. All of the chuckling and soft smiles, the careful ways of touching you in public without touching you in public, the nervous fidgeting.
He’s anxious, and it makes you want nothing more than to reach out and squeeze him close until all of those gray cloud feelings are absorbed into you instead.
“Beyond the cheatin’—which there was plenty of,” he continues, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes focus on the gray exterior of the hospital. “Shannan’s favorite hobby was knockin’ me down, be it emotionally, financially,…shit, even physically, sometimes. That woman came in when I was at my lowest, widowed with a little girl to raise and a business I wasn’t sure would make it, and I thought that meant she was the one. Truth is, she only picked me out because she needed a solid punchin’ bag to take all her own shit out on. And, ever the fool, I let her do that for twelve years before we finally separated. Then, she let it drag on for five more years—comin’ back every now and then when I was too lonely to know better.”
“Jesus,” you say, suddenly feeling foolish for ever feeling sorry for the woman. Except, you still do. Not because she’s gone, but because she spent the last decade and a half of her life ruining a good thing instead of relishing in having someone like Joel in her corner.
“So, call it heartless or whatever you wanna call it, but I grieved Shannan a long time ago,” he says, pursing his lips as he turns to face you.
You frown, desperately wanting to reach your hand over to cup his cheek. His eyes, so full of a sea of emotion, sparkle in the light, and it does nothing for this gnawing desire to hold him. It’s not sexual, this feeling, and yet…it’s no less intimate.
More intimate than you’ve allowed most relationships to feel.
But then again, no part of your relationship with Joel has been like the relationships you’ve had before.
“On another note,” he starts, chuckling breathily into the night. “You and I just had sex.”
You smile, biting your lip at the salacious memory. “We did.”
“And without a condom,” he adds, wincing a little bit.
“I’m clean,” you offer. “And I trust you.”
He nods, giving you a soft look. “You’re not on birth control?”
“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head. “Fucked with my body too much. And my head. Mood swings, weight gain…all that fun stuff. Got off of it a year or so ago, and I don’t plan on going back.”
He nods again, his eyes thoughtful as they roam over your face. “I’ve been wantin’ a vasectomy for a while now. Maybe it’s time I make an appointment.”
“You don’t have to do that for me,” you say, and it’s true. No matter how hot the idea of Joel coming inside of you is, he doesn’t have to do anything to his body just for your sake. There’s condoms and plan B pills and the fucking pull out method, after all. You’ll make it work.
“No, trust me. I’ve been wantin’ it. This is just another reason. The best reason, really,” he says, smiling at me. “I, uh, might have a thing for that.”
You tilt your head and smirk, eyeing him up and down. “You got a breeding kink, Texas?”
“An unexplored breedin’ kink mostly,” he says, scratching the back of his neck as a red tint finds its way onto his cheeks. “Sarah obviously got here somehow, but I was too young to understand what it was back then. And then by the time I started thinkin’ about it, I was with Shannan, and she didn’t want anything to do with that. Most times, I had to wear two condoms even with her on birth control, and she still had me pull out. Didn’t want a kid with me, which is fair. I didn’t want one with her. But…” He sucks in a deep breath and exhales it with a laugh. “All that to say, I had a good time earlier. With you. But if you ain’t—”
“Oh, I am,” you cut him off, smiling down at your lap. “It’s not something I’ve ever really gotten to explore either.”
Joel licks his lips and tries to hide the smile that spreads across his face by looking up at the clear night sky. “Alright, then.”
You snort, bumping your shoulder into his. “Alright, then.”
JOEL
I hate funerals. Always have.
Maybe it’s because I started going to them so early on in my life. First my grandmother, a month after my eighth birthday, then my grandfather a couple years after that. Then it was my dad when I was seventeen, Sarah’s mom when I was twenty, and finally, my mom, who passed shortly before Sarah’s first birthday.
Each loss got harder to take. My life got bleaker. The color black felt darker.
Except, this particular funeral isn’t all that dark and gloomy.
Maybe it’s the hidden glee of being rid of Shannan and the misery she likes to cause. Maybe it’s the fact that after this, I won’t have to pay any more alimony to a woman that was born already having a trust fund. Or, maybe it’s just the fact that Sarah’s here with me this time, holding my hand through it all.
“It is as surprising to you that the She-Devil managed to accumulate this many friends?" she asks from beside me as we sit in the far corner of a church pew, towards the back of the room.
I stifle a laugh and shake my head as I subtly scan the room full of unfamiliar faces. The only people I recognize are her parents, Tommy, Maria, and Benji. Aside from that, I’m far removed from anyone who’d bother coming to my ex-wife’s funeral.
“This must be the batch that hadn’t known her long enough to hate her,” I murmur under my breath.
Sarah chuckles without care of what it might look like. The ex-husband and step-daughter from hell, snickering during a funeral service. Only, if we’re from hell, Shannan’s the one who ruled the damn place.
“Hey, did you…uh, ever talk to Shannan before she, you know…croaked over?” Sarah asks hesitantly, her eyes locked on her hands as they smooth over the black fabric of her skirt. I take a minute to look her over, studying the almost scared look on her face.
“We talked earlier that day,” I confess. “Your friend called me and asked me to come pick her up from work, and she was there. Caught me and tried her usual shit.”
“Wait—” Sarah’s head shakes, her eyes blinking before she turns to me. She’s too good at listening sometimes. “So you know you’ve got a glorified stripper as your roommate and you don’t care?”
I rear back at that, my brows lacing together. “That’s your best friend, kiddo. I didn’t teach you to talk like that about anybody, let alone your people.”
“She doesn’t care,” she says with an eye roll. “Besides, it’s the truth.”
“Well, I didn’t see any strippin’ goin’ in there,” I say, clearing my throat. “Anyway, why were you askin’ if Shannan and I talked?”
Her throat bobs with a thick swallow. “I…”
Her hazel eyes meet mine, heavy with something…well, heavy. Shame, maybe. Remorse, possibly.
“Dad, I fucked up,” she whispers, those same bright eyes turning glassy. I frown, my heart aching at the sight of her like this. Even when I know she’s in the wrong.
“C’mere,” I say, wrapping an arm around her shoulder to pull her into my side.
I press a kiss to the top of her head and breathe in the familiar scent of shampoo. The shit I bought her after she came home crying about being teased for her frizzy curls. It smells like shea butter and vanilla. It smells like she’s still my little girl, goofy and long-limbed at ten.
“It’s okay,” I murmur, holding her the same way I would when she’d stumble into my room in the middle of the night with her stuffed elephant and her blankie. “We don’t have to talk about it right now.”
“Okay,” she sniffles, wiping her eyes. “On a lighter note, at least it finally looks like we’re in mourning.”
I stifle a laugh and shake my head. “We’re goin’ to hell, kid.”
“Last call before I’m off, Jerome.” Your elbows are perched onto the sticky bar top as you lock eyes with your favorite customer. Or second favorite, depending on whether it’s a night Joel comes in.
Jerome’s eyes are red and glassy, a sign of a solid night of drinking under his belt. His toothy—or a lack thereof—grin is another tell he’s feeling particularly good tonight. “I won’t bother ya anymore than I already have, honey. Go on back early and sneak out before that pretty boy gets back from the pisser.”
He’s talking about Veneers. The squirrelly, plastic tooth shining, finance bro of a stalker that won’t give up the chase.
At first, it was just a little annoying—like most of the men who can’t seem to tell when a woman isn’t interested. Then, after a few weeks, it got plain irritating. Now, it’s starting to scare you, the way he just won’t stop showing up. He doesn’t bother any of the other girls. He doesn’t even look at them. His attention is alarmingly focused on you. So focused that even Jerome has noticed.
“Good idea,” you say, quickly untying your apron as you check both ways before sneaking off to the hallway that leads to the locker room.
You make quick work of your outfit—a solid blue one-piece that cuts low on the cleavage and high on the hips—and slip into your sweats, tank top, and the uggs Joel likes to call your potato shoes. After cashing out and saying goodbye to all the girls, you dial Joel’s number and wait for that familiar rasp to filter through the line.
“Hey, darlin’,” he croons, and just like every time he speaks, it goes straight to your center. “I’m about ten away.”
“Okay,” you say, your voice taking on a sugary sweet tone that you weren’t sure you were capable of. Clearing your throat, you try to reel in your lust. “I’ll be waiting outside.”
“Alright, baby. See you soon.” Joel chuckles, and to hell with reeling shit in. You’ll be lucky if you don’t climb him like a tree the minute you see him.
It’s been a long week, after all.
Between Shannan’s passing, her parents coming around the house, and Sarah coming to stay for the funeral, the two of you haven’t gotten a moment alone since coming home from the hospital. You certainly haven’t gotten a chance to do anything resembling picking up where you left off, and boy does your body know it.
You feel the anticipation humming down your spine as you sneak out through the back exit with your dude bag over your shoulders and your phone in hand. Your
eyes are locked on your screen, replying to a text from Sarah you got earlier that you never had the chance to respond to.
You’re midway through typing out your reply—of which was a series of mind blown emojis followed by a coffin—when you bump into a soft body.
“Shit, sorry…” Your words trail off as your eyes lift to meet the glassy, reddened gaze of Mr. Veneers, himself. Alone. In the dark alley beside the bar.
“You weren’t gonna say bye to me, Blue?” he asks with a playful frown that does nothing but turn your stomach sour.
Suddenly, you never want to hear that name again. The way he says it makes you feel so slimy. Too much like prey.
“My ride’s almost here,” you say, half because it’s the truth and half in hopes that he’ll back off. “Didn’t have time to make my rounds tonight.”
He nods slowly, his tongue making a clicking sound as he stares into your soul like he’s trying to find something there.
“Hurt my feelings, Blue,” he says, that horrible liquor-laced breath fanning over your face as he crowds you against the brick wall.
You swallow thickly, hoping to drink down your fear. Men like this seem to get off on that shit, and the last thing you’re going to do is go out afraid. Fuck no.
“Back up,” you demand, shoving at his chest. It’s soft, not in the way yours is, but in the same way that a forty-something-year-old with a love of beer is.
“All this time,” he whispers, leaning in to ghost his lips over your neck. “How long has it been? A month? Two months? I forget.”
“Long enough,” you grunt, shoving at him again to no avail.
“Exactly,” he chuckles. “Long enough that I should’ve gotten more than a couple of your used panties by now. At least they still smell like you.”
Your stomach hollows. Your chest caves. Your hands shake.
All this time, it was him. The break in. This slimy, weasley mother fucker was the one to follow you home and break in.
Your knee lifts before you even realize you’re doing it, and finds its mark right beneath his belt.
He doubles over with a groan, giving you enough space to slip away, but not enough to lose him completely. You feel like a girl in a cheesy horror film, jogging and constantly checking behind you to find that he’s right there, laughing like he enjoys this.
“Come on, Blue,” he calls, too close for comfort.
Thankfully, you’re nearing the parking lot now. It’s still dark, but not as dark as the back. There are stragglers nearby, even if they’re all drunk. There’s even security posted out front—except, there isn’t.
Stupid fucking Diego and his weak bladder.
“Stop following me!” you shout, earning the attention of a few cigarette smokers by their trucks. “Sick fuck!”
“Blue,” he croons. “Don’t be like that.”
You’re distracted by a pair of headlights turning into the parking lot. Joel’s headlights. Headlights that mean safety and security. You can almost feel his arms wrapped around you.
But instead…
“Get off me!” Your body thrashes in Veneer’s hold as he tries to press you up against a random car. His hands are wandering, trying to get access to you, but your nails digging into his skin stop him from getting anywhere. “Get the fuck off—“
A solid crunch fills the night air as Joel’s fist connects with Veneer’s jaw, knocking him to the ground.
“Get in the truck,” he orders, his voice hard like you’ve never heard it before. You do as he says without argument, rushing over to the passenger seat of his truck and climbing in.
The windows are down, giving you a front row seat to their exchange.
“I knew you she was letting you fuck her,” Veneers spits as he stands upright, his gaze finding yours. “Thought you didn’t fuck customers, Blue! What happened to that?”
Joel punches him again, knocking him back onto his ass. He kneels down grabbing him by the collar. “You don’t talk to her, you hear me? You talk to me.”
“Yes, sir,” he smirks, all bloody and…toothless. Joel knocked those ugly veneers right out of his mouth.
“Miller, what the fuck?” One of the men who occasionally stumbles in from out of town, Javi, jogs over from somewhere in the lot and peers over the two of them. “The fuck you doin’?”
“Peña,” Joel sighs, standing upright and shaking out his wrist. “This dipshit was tryin’ to hurt my girl. Wasn’t doin’ nothin’ but remindin’ him what it’s like to fight someone his size.”
Javi lets out a dry scoff and arches a brow. “He looks about half your size from over here, but I get it. Let me call someone from the department to scoop his ugly ass up. You go check on your girl.”
Joel nods and pats him on the shoulder with his non-bloody hand as he makes his way over to the truck. He grunts as he climbs in and slams the door shut.
“Joel, I’m so sorry—“
He reaches over with his bloodied fist and cups your cheek softly, as if he wasn’t just beating a grown man down in your honor, and drags you over for a kiss. “Don’t apologize for a single thing, baby. You did nothin’ wrong.”
Your head is nodding, but you’re too lost in his eyes to pay much attention to what he’s saying.
“He was the guy,” you manage once you get your bearings. “The break in. He said it was him.”
Joel’s molars grind and eyes bat shut for a beat. “I’m gonna kill him.”
He reaches for the door but you stop him, grabbing him by the bicep. “Don’t…please?”
Joel sucks in a deep breath and shakes his head as he keeps his eyes on you, both of you ignoring the bullshit Veneers is spitting at you as he remains seated on the gravel with Javi looming over him like he’s used to doing this sort of thing.
“Alright,” he says, settling back into his seat.
“Hey, Miller,” Javi calls out, pulling Joel’s attention away. “Why don’t y’all go home? There’s plenty of witnesses here for the report. I’ll drop by the office tomorrow to get more info from you, but there’s no reason for you two to stick around and listen to this asshole.”
Joel nods and gives him a flat smile—which must be the best he can muster given how tightly his jaw is still clamped. “Thanks, Peña.”
“No problem,” he says, giving you a polite, charming smile. You’re sure it goes a long way with the girls here at the bar—employees or otherwise—but it doesn’t do anything for you. Not the way those rare smirks from the surly man beside you does.
JOEL
Thank fuck for the woman loving, bar hopping Sherriff Javier Peña.
That’s the thought that’s been playing on a loop since I put the truck in drive and left that fucking parking lot.
That, and Jesus Christ, I’m in love with this woman. It’s the only plausible explanation for why I’d be willing to catch a homicide charge for her.
“Who was that?” she asks from beside me as we drive home in silence. My bloody, sore right hand hasn’t let go of hers since I put the car in drive. I can’t will it to. “Peña.”
“He’s a Sherriff,” I say, my voice quieter than usual. “Tommy knew him in college. Think he moved down here a year or so ago after leavin’ the DEA. Good guy. Likes to drink and whore around, but he’s a good guy.”
She nods slowly, her eyes scanning the mostly empty road before us. It’s a Sunday night, and this far out of the city, everyone is either at home or out partying. There’s only a few headlights that pass us, and even less stragglers on the sidewalk the closer we get to our neighborhood.
Funny how just a few blocks mean the difference between a sketchy neighborhood like where Blue used to live, and my quaint little suburban slice of heaven.
“He comes in sometimes,” she says mindlessly. “Never really talked to him, though.”
“Yeah,” I sigh, resting my head against the seat as I make the turn onto our street.
“Joel, I…” My eyes flit to Blue as she turns over to look at me with red-rimmed, wet eyes. “Are you mad at me? For…I don’t know. He—he didn’t touch me. I didn’t let him touch me. I don’t know if you’re mad because you think I let him—“
I pull the truck to an abrupt stop in my driveway and shut it off before hopping out and circling the hood to her side.
“What—“ she starts, only to have me tug her into my arms, my face buried in her neck as I let out a ragged sigh.
“No, honey. I’m not mad at you,” I say through the frog in my throat. “I’m just tryin’ to talk myself outta turnin’ around and killin’ that fucker for even thinkin’ of hurtin’ you, let alone actually outrun’ his hands on you? Stalkin’ you like this? Everything in me is beggin’ to hurt him like he wanted to hurt you.”
“He’s not worth the prison time,” she says, pulling a chuckle out of me. “Besides, who knows if they’ll allow conjugal visits?”
I pull back, my swollen hand and my perfectly intact one framing her face. “You have an incredibly dark sense of humor, Blue. You know that?”
She melts, her eyes twinkling with stars.
“Say that again,” she says, sliding her hands up my chest.
“What?”
“My nickname.”
“Blue?”
A tear slips down her cheek and her lips tremble. “Again.”
My heart feels like it’s in a vice grip as realization dawns on me. She needs this. Desperately, it seems.
“Blue,” I say, stroking my thumbs over her cheeks. “Let’s go to bed, okay?”
She nods, sniffling as she lets me carry her bag and guide her inside the house without a single snarky comeback. Once again, the strong, always has to look out for herself woman softens into something more vulnerable for me.
And I couldn’t be more honored.
My arm is held tight by her as we walk through the living room and turn to make our way down the hall, stopping at her bedroom door. She pauses, frowns, and swallows thickly as her eyes flit between me and the door.
“Guess this is my stop,” she jokes, an awkward puff of air slipping from her lips as she lets go of me to reach for the door.
“Pit stop,” I correct, leaning over to press a kiss to her forehead. “Get what y’need for the night and come upstairs. I’ll get the bath runnin’ for ya.”
Her wide eyes follow me as I open the door for her and set her duffle inside.
“What?” I chuckle.
“I’m so pissed,” she says, scoffing and shaking her head.
My brows narrow, wondering what I did to set her off. Maybe it was presumptive of me to think she’d want to spend the night in my room. Maybe all she wants is the comfort of her own bed, some privacy. Maybe she thinks I’m just trying to get laid, and that’s why I’m bringing her upstairs.
My hand runs through my hair and tugs on the strands as I try to piece together an apology that makes any sense.
“Listen, Blue, I—“
“All I wanted to do tonight was to come home from work and fuck you until you were seeing stars, and now I’m too emotional to do any of that,” she elaborates. “And the way you’re taking care of me right now? I would like nothing more than to blow you until the sun comes up, but that fucker had to go and ruin my fun.”
It’s my turn to gawk at her with wide eyes and parted lips. Even my hands don’t know what to do with themselves—one remains buried in my hair and the other hangs slack at my side.
She laughs at my current state of speechlessness and pats me on the stomach. “Don’t worry, Texas. Tomorrow’s a brand new day.”
After your bath—which Joel politely declined to join, but sat on the floor beside you and distracted you by filling you in on all the familial drama that happened at the funeral service—you find yourself cozied up in Joel’s bed for the first time.
Actually, it’s the first time you’ve ever even been in his room.
It’s a modestly decorated space, despite the size of the room being larger than any you’ve ever lived in. There’s pictures of Sarah and Tommy, a couple of an older pair you aren’t familiar with but can assume are his parents, and a couple odd 90s grunge band posters on the wall, but beyond that, it looks like he’s just moved in.
His bed, clad in dark sage sheets and a matching plaid comforter, is cozy, though. His mattress is nicer than yours by a long shot, and despite him being relatively conservative when it comes to his money—his paint-splattered jeans and hole-ladened T-shirts just one example—it seems as though Joel consciously invested in his bed.
And fuck, are you glad.
He’s showering now, the en-suite door left open a very tempting crack, but you have no intentions on sneaking in there tonight. If shit hadn’t gone so wrong, he would’ve never even made it past the hallway without you getting on your knees for him. But like all things in your life, shit never goes to plan.
You try not to ruminate on the what-ifs, choosing instead to scroll mindlessly in hopes of distracting yourself. It only works a little, but you hold onto that tiny slice of peace, letting it bloom into a daydream in which you never stepped foot into The Boot.
It hits you as you lay there that you’ll never step foot in there again. You’re done. That creep was the nail in the coffin that you’ve been building since day one. You’re not sure what you’re doing next, only that you’ll never go back to that again.
It’s not about shame or being too good for that kind of work, like Sarah assumes. It’s not even about safety. It’s just time for you to take the next step in your life and trust in the woman you’ve become to figure shit out.
Because that’s what you’ve always done, and you’re not going to stop now.
“You alive over there?” Joel’s voice snaps you out of your daze.
He’s standing in the doorway of the bathroom, steam and yellow light filtering into the room from behind him, illuminating his silhouette. He’s wearing his towel low on his hips and running a smaller wash cloth over his hair. With water heading down his chest all the way down to his happy trail, he looks criminally beautiful. Your thighs squeeze together, desperate despite your emotional energy being completely drained.
“Yeah,” you manage, and the word comes out choppy. “Just tired.”
He nods, not quite believing and not quite ready to call you out on it. “Yeah, alright. Lemme change and then we can go t’bed.”
“Kay,” you murmur, cozying up to his pillow as you watch him pad through the room and over to his dresser. He reaches into one of the drawers and pulls out a pair of briefs before looking over his shoulder at you.
“Should I…”
“You can change in front of me, Joel,” you chuckle. “I promise I won’t make a move on you…tonight.”
He laughs and turns back around. Your eyes wander over his back as he undoes his towel and uses it to pat his chest dry before tossing it across the room into a hamper, leaving him bare to you.
You can’t help but lick your lips at the sight of his firm ass, the dorito shape of his torso, the muscles in his back that pair so well with his broad shoulders. When he turns, he keeps his eyes on yours, dark and lidded as he waits for your gaze to travel down his front, all the way down to his half-hard cock that hangs thick and heavy between his legs.
“You’re beautiful,” you whisper mindlessly, mostly to yourself. Joel turns bashful, smiling to himself as he steps into his briefs and tugs them over his hips before adjusting his bulge.
“Was just thinkin’ the same thing ‘bout you,” he murmurs softly as he pads over to his side of the bed.
It feels so unrealistically domestic, watching him toss back the comforter and climb into bed beside you. The way his arms find you instantly, pulling you closer as if there was anywhere else you’d rather be. His scent, equal parts warm and clean, envelops you like a blanket fresh out of the dryer, and you can’t help but bury your face even closer to his skin.
“It’s been a tough week,” he sighs as his fingertips draw lines up and down your spine. You hum, nodding against his chest as sleep starts to take over.
The last words you hear are no more than a whisper, soft and gentle. A rasp you could’ve mistaken for the wind.
“S’gonna get easier, Blue. I swear.”
JOEL
I don’t know what time it is that I finally peel my eyes open, only that when I do, I’m graced with the prettiest sight in the world.
Blue, in nothing but a tank top and a pair of panties, padding around my room on tiptoes. I smile despite the throbbing pain in my right fist and up my arm as I watch her try to sneakily snoop around. She takes her time looking at the pictures I have framed on my dresser, spending an awfully long time on the one of a ten year old me, a six year old Tommy, and my parents at the Austin Zoo.
“Find anythin’ incriminatin’ yet?” I ask, my voice deeper and more hoarse than usual. She jumps, turning around like she’s a thief who’s been caught.
“When the hell did you wake up?” she asks, chuckling at her own panic as she rests a hand over her heart.
“Just a minute or two ago,” I say, leaning to sit up against the headboard.
“Should’ve known when the bear-like snoring stopped,” she mutters as she turns back to the picture. “How old were you here?”
“Ten.”
“You were cute,” she says, smirking at me. “A little shrimpy, but cute.”
I roll my eyes and let a chuckle escape before patting the bed beside me. “C’mere.”
She obliges, sauntering over to me with that smile that has my briefs suddenly feeling a whole lot tighter. It only gets worse when she reaches the bed and crawls up to straddle my thighs.
My hands instantly find her hips, giving the soft flesh there a little squeeze before slipping lower to palm her ass. “How’re you feelin’ today?”
She lets out a soft sigh and shrugs as she uses a fingertip to draw shapes on my bare chest. “Yesterday fucking sucked. This whole week sucked, actually, but last night was…” Her head shakes and her eyes lower to watch the mindless movement of her fingertips against my skin. “So scary. And…I’m done.”
“Done with what, darlin’?”
“The bar,” she says, giving me a half frown as she lifts her eyes back up to meet mine. “Made it longer than a lot of girls do. Guess that’s a win.”
“You know I’d never tell you what to do, but I can’t say I’m not a little thankful to not have to worry about you every time you leave for a shift,” I say, smoothing my hands up her spine, beneath the thin cotton of her tank.
“You’re not annoyed to have an employed, car-less, twenty-five year old bumming off you?” she asks jokingly, but I can tell she means it more than she lets on.
She’s afraid to be a burden.
And I’m afraid she’s dead wrong.
“Listen to me,” I say, tugging her closer until her chest is pressed against mine. My lips draw close, brushing against hers with every word. “I want you here. I don’t care under what circumstances. I don’t care if you’re working or if you’ve got a car. All that will happen in due time, because I know you. You’re the kind of woman who gets shit handled. But I got news for you, darlin’. I’m the kind of man that handles shit for the people I love. Always. So…you’re gonna let me handle shit for you for a little while, and then you can go back to being a stubborn, independent woman who fights me over letting me pay for shit, and I’m gonna let you win a quarter of the time. Sound good?”
She smiles, pecking my lips. “Are we going to skip over the fact that you said you love me?”
I pull back, staring into her amused eyes as I try and play my words over in my head.
Did I say that?
Did I mean it?
Hell, of course I meant it. Just maybe would’ve given it a little before I let it slip.
“I—“
“I’m kidding,” she giggles, kissing me again. “I know what you meant. You care about me. You're not in love or anything.”
“Right,” I say, swallowing down the burning in my throat from wanting to correct her.
“Anyway, yes,” she says, just as her hand slips lower, over my stomach and down to the bulge in my briefs. “I’ll let you handle shit. Just like I’m hoping you’ll do right…” She reaches in and I let out a soft exhale as she gives my dick a firm tug. “Now.”
Joel wastes no time in taking charge like he said he would. He flips you onto your back like you weigh nothing and slots his hips between your open thighs, grinding his clothed dick against your pussy as his lips find yours.
“Y’want me to handle shit, baby?” he rasps, nipping at your bottom lip before doing the same to your jaw. “Want me to take care o’you? Make this pussy weep for me?”
“Fuck,” you whine, grinding up to meet his thrusts. You’re not sure if it’s you or him, but you can feel your panties sticking to your cunt, wet and sticky and all because of him. “Please.”
“Good girl,” he says, sucking in your pulse. “Knew you had good manners.”
The timbre of his voice has your toes curling and legs wrapping tight around his waist. “Joel, please.”
“Thought you wanted me to be in control, baby?” His tone is playful, teasing even. It’s as sexy as it is infuriating.
“I do, but—“
“Uh-uh,” he tuts, pulling back enough to look down at you. “I’m in charge right now, Blue. You don’t get to do a single thing except lay here and take what I give you. Alright?”
Your walls clench at the dominance in his tone. In his eyes.
Fuck, he looks so good like this. Hair mussed from a good night of sleep. Lips kiss-bitten and cheeks flushed the softest shade of red. His eyes, normally a soft brown—like dirt after it rains—have melted into something darker and warmer, like molten chocolate.
“Okay,” you manage, your voice breathy and a bit wistful, as if a part of you doesn’t quite believe you’re actually here, laying beneath him being promised everything you’ve ever craved.
The corner of his mouth threatens to curl, but he buries his face in the valley between your breasts before you can get a glimpse at that smile of his. His hands, one swollen and bruised and one completely fine, palm at your breasts, pressing them together until he’s practically suffocating himself between them.
“Fuck,” he groans, rutting his hips into yours as he greedily mouths at your left breast, nipping at your nipple through your tank before doing the same to the other. “The things I want to do t’these perfect fuckin’ tits, Blue. If I wasn’t already goin’ t’hell, I surely am now.”
His twang is so much thicker right now. If you hadn’t spent the entire night beside him, you’d think he was drunk.
But the only thing he’s drunk on right now is you.
“Maybe later on,” he says to himself, shaking his head like he’s having to talk himself out of an idea. “Right now I need t’eat this pretty fuckin’ pussy.”
“Joel,” you whimper, too lust-drunk to care how needy or nonsensical you sound.
“Shhh,” he hushes, lifting your tank up by the hem until you’re tugging it off and throwing it across the room. Chest and stomach bare, Joel leans back on his knees to look you over.
Swollen, heavy breasts. A round, soft stomach full of stretch marks. White cotton panties that are soaked down the center.
He eyes it all like a starving man and rubs a hand over his chin before giving his head a soft shake. “You’re too good t’be fuckin’ true.”
He kneels between your thighs like he’s praying, holds your hips like you’re something precious, and mouths at your clothed cunt like a fucking sinner. It’s a delicious concoction of awe and tenderness and depravity that has your walls clenching with each swipe of his tongue over your clothed bud.
“Y’taste so fuckin’ good, Blue,” he groans, tugging your panties to the side. “So fuckin’ sweet.”
Your hands find their way into his hair as his mouth latches onto your swollen cunt, sucking and flicking and fucking you like you never thought possible.
No man before this has ever had such a passion for eating pussy, let alone skill. But Joel has it all. He eats pussy like a man starved.
“Jesus, fuck, Joel,” you manage between moans and shudders and the wet slurps of his mouth on your clit. “You’re so fucking good. Fuck. I’m gonna come if you keep doing that.”
“Uh-uh,” he says, pulling away with a slick mouth and lust-blown pupils. He doesn’t bother asking or directing, he just grips your hips with his hands and flips you over until your ass is in the air. “Not ‘til I’m done.”
You’re sure the cry you let out can be heard down the block as Joel’s mouth finds your cunt again, this time from behind. He drags his tongue from your clit all the way up to your puckered hole and both of you let out a strangled groan as he tastes you there.
“Fuck,” he hisses, sliding his fingers over your thigh until he’s guiding two into your cunt. “You know how good you look like this, baby? Bent over for me, your ass in my face, your cunt wrapped around my fingers. Fuck, you should see how fuckin’ wet you are. Drippin’ down my wrist. This what you like? Me fuckin’ your ass with my tongue while my fingers spread you open?”
He’s rambling, but fuck is it the hottest rambling you’ve ever heard. Everything he’s saying is pure filth and torn right out of your fantasy of things you wish men said in bed.
“Yes, fuuuuuuck,” you cry, fucking yourself back against his mouth as he pulls his fingers out just to taste your cunt again. “Please, Joel! Please!”
“Please what?” he asks, barely pulling away enough to sound coherent before he’s back at it, sucking your clit just like that favorite toy of yours does.
“Please fuck me,” you beg. “Please, please…I want your dick inside me when I come for you.”
“Jesus, Blue,” he groans, pulling back to sit up on his knees. “You want me to come in my pants like a fuckin’ kid?”
You peer over your shoulder, eyeing him as he pulls his briefs down just enough to tug his dick out, giving it a few strokes as his eyes meet yours.
“Y’want this dick, baby?” he asks, his voice pure southern sin. You nod eagerly, bringing a smile to his face. “Y’want me to fill this pussy up?”
“Fuck, yes.”
Joel lets out a small growl, as if the sound escaped from somewhere deep inside him, and lines himself up with your cunt before settling both hands on your hips.
With a smirk, he leans forward, just enough to slide the tip in before giving you one last piece of advice.
“Hold on tight, Blue.”
JOEL
Sinking into her feels like dying and being revived all at the same time. Her walls, warm and wet, suck me in deep as I thrust into her fast and hard. Her moans fill the entire house, blending with my rough grunts until it sounds like a symphony straight out of hell.
But this—feeling her, hearing her, tasting her— is nothing short of heaven.
“God damn, Blue,” I moan, tossing my head back as the tip of my cock hits that spongy spot that has us both trembling. “Y’gonna make me come quick, baby girl. Shit.”
“Please don’t stop!” she cries, digging her hands into the comforter.
“Fuck,” I hiss, feeing the tension in my spine wind tighter, like a thread about to snap. ”Baby, I don’t know if I can—shit—baby, I’m gonna come soon. Feels too fuckin’ good.”
I slide my hand around her body and find her clit, swollen and throbbing before I even touch her.
“Fuck, you’re right there too, ain’t ya?” I murmur against her shoulder, grinding my cock slower and deeper in an effort to make this last longer. “S’this pussy ‘bout t’come for me, baby?”
“Fuuuuuck yes,” she groans, desperate and lost in her pleasure. Her voice is deeper, raspier, sexier. Suddenly, all I want to do is keep her like this—pliant and feeling good because of me. “Joel…fuck, I—god, I’m coming! Fuck! I’m coming!”
I can feel it. Her pussy is strangling my cock, trying to milk me dry. And shit, the temptation to let her is strong.
But I shouldn’t.
But fuck, I want to.
“Where,” I demand, only capable of offering her a single word clue as to what I mean.
“Inside,” she begs, fucking herself back onto me. “Fill me up, Joel. Fuck it deep.”
I’m almost positive my heart stops for a second. But not even death would keep me from being here with her in this moment. Giving her exactly what she wants, even if it is irresponsible.
She’s the only person I want to be this irresponsible with.
“Fuck,” I whimper, fucking into her at a brutal pace as that long forgotten euphoria washes over me. My hands tremble as I hold her ass apart so that I can watch the mess I’m making between her thighs. “Your pussy looks so fuckin’ good like this, baby. Drippin’ with my come.”
Her walls twitch around me in response to my filthy words and it brings a smile to my face. She catches me grinning like a fool from over her shoulder, and soon we’re both laughing.
“You’ve got a potty mouth in bed, Texas,” she sighs contentedly. “And I fucking love it.”
“Stay right here,” I say, pulling out of her slowly, watching her pussy leak with my come. “Fuck. Remind me to get a picture of that next time.”
She snorts and rolls over with a dopey smile on her face. “Yeah, we’ll just get you a disposable camera to capture all your filthy memories.”
“Nah,” I say, giving her ass a pat before climbing off the bed. I make quick work of grabbing a damp wash cloth before bringing it back over to wipe her clean. “Then the creep they got working at the photo counter will get t’see all this.”
She hums thoughtfully. “Maybe a Polaroid camera, then. That way the only creep gawking at me is you.”
I nip at her thigh playfully before tossing the rag into the laundry bin in the corner of the room. “Could you hand me my phone, baby? Peña’s supposed to give me a call before he stops—“
The doorbell ringing downstairs cuts me off.
Blue giggles and wags taps her finger against the tip of her nose. “Nose goes.”
With an eye roll and a peck to her lips, I drag myself over to the closet and throw on the first thing I find before making my way downstairs.
When I open the door, I’m greeted by Sheriff Peña in all his khaki uniformed glory, aviators and all. He’s gotten older since I last saw him a decade ago, but I’d be lying if I said the fucker hasn’t maintained his youth. Not a gray hair in sight. Just like Tommy’s lucky ass.
“Peña,” I say, stuffing my hands in my pockets as I move out of the way so he can come inside. “How’s it go last night?”
“Well, he’s in jail,” he says with a sigh. “Tried to run on me, but unfortunately for him, I ran track in college, so.”
“Didn’t turn out well for the asshole, I hope.”
“No, no,” he chuckles. “By the time he was at the station, he had a couple bloodied knees and palms to match the mess you made of his face.”
“Good.” There’s no humor in and I don’t mean there to be. If I cared less about my life, I’d have done more than bloodied his face up a little.
“Anyway, I just wanted to give you these forms so that your girl can fill them out,” he says, handing over a manila folder. “Restraining order, in case he makes bail—which he probably will, given that the fuck is a trust fund baby. There’s also a copy of the police report in there with witness statements. Any judge in their right mind would give him time, but…it’s not always easy getting justice for this kind of thing.”
I take a deep breath and let it back out. Just the thought of that fuck getting off with just a slap on the wrist has my feeling murderous.
“Look, Miller. Between you and me, this guy’s got repeat offender written all over him. If I were you and I was serious about protecting that girl—“
“I am,” I say, faster than my brain can process it. Javi smiles softly, knowingly, and gives me a solitary nod.
“Then I’d consider moving her out of Austin,” he says. “I know it’s tough with the business being here, but…you never know how fucked in the head some of these dudes are. I’ve seen plenty of shit in Colombia to know you should never get too comfortable. Alright?”
I nod and show him out, giving him a handshake before watching him pull out of the driveway. Staring down at the stack of papers in my hand—papers that mean so little where men like him are concerned—I let myself imagine a life away from Austin.
A life with Blue.
We could move to Dallas. I could run the business from up there, if not just open a new office. There’s plenty of development opportunities there. Plenty of interior design firms for Blue. We’d even be closer to Sarah.
That would mean we’d have to tell her, of course, but that’s going to have to happen eventually. Maybe it’ll just have to be sooner than we expected.
Two warm hands find my shoulders from behind me as I stand in the open doorway. “Now that the big bad Sheriff is gone, can I make you pancakes and then give you a blowjob while you eat them?”
Yeah.
There’s no way I’m letting anything happen to this girl.
chapter warnings: series is 18+ only, MINORS DNI, age gap (reader's age is set at 25, joel is 40), best friend's dad trope, reader works at a bikini bar (race is a blank slate but reader is described as being curvy/plus size and is very much comfortable in her skin), divorced!joel, dual POV, death talk (not a main character), grief talk, mild angst, sexual harrassment/attempted assault/stalking (no actual SA), unprotected piv, breeding kink, dirty talk, good ole fashioned booty munchin, dom!joel, fingering, joel cleans up after himself 5/5🌶️
a/n: had such a long day and i’m fighting sleep as i type this so i didn’t bother proofreading, will prob come back in the morning to fix the inevitable typos!! :)
word count: 8.8k (she's a doozy)
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The hospital is cold and the air smells sterile as you sit in the waiting room whole Joel goes down to the morgue to identify his ex-wife’s body.
Jesus.
It had only been a handful of hours since she was walking up to you, flaunting that perfect smile and those dazzling green eyes that had you feeling murderous with envy. And now, she’s gone. Lost to a car accident she caused by driving drunk—or at least that’s what Tommy’s Sheriff buddy thinks it was.
Joel has been oddly normal given the circumstances, despite a few tears shedding when he called up Shannan’s parents and broke the news. Sometimes, it’s difficult to reckon the fact that for seventeen years, they were married. Shared a family, even if Sarah wasn’t biologically hers. Joel spent Christmases and birthdays with her and her extended family, and now he’s here waiting for her parents to drive up from San Antonio to say their goodbyes to their daughter.
And the worst part—the part that is eating you alive despite Joel’s assurance that you have no reason to feel guilty—is that while Shannan was laying on the side of the road, lifeless and cold, you were fucking her ex-husband.
It’s hard to not feel guilty when your mind paints a picture like that.
Your knee is bouncing in place and your hands are picking at the frayed cuffs of Joel’s University of Texas hoodie he lent you when an older couple rushes past the automatic doors and up to the main desk in the hospital lobby.
“My daughter—“ The older woman chokes on a sob as she tries to speak. The man beside her reaches for her and pulls her into his side, rubbing soothing circles on her back.
“Our daughter was brought into the…morgue,” he manages through his own tears. “Her name is—sorry, was Shannan Miller. “
A long, shaky breath huffs out of your chest at the sight of the distraught pair. The unimaginable weight of their grief passes onto you as you stand up and make your way to them. “Excuse me?”
They turn to face you, eyeing you warily.
“I’m a friend of Sarah’s,” you say, swallowing down your guilt. “Joel—uh, Mr. Miller is down in the morgue right now.”
“Could you call him for us, sweetheart?” Shannan’s mother asks through ragged breaths and hiccups.
“Yeah, of course.” You nod and tug out your phone, dialing Joel’s number.
“Hey,” he answers immediately. “Y’alright, honey?”
God, his voice is a balm that your chafing heart has been desperately needing. It soothes and calms, like a warm cup of tea in the middle of winter.
“Yeah, just…uh, Shannan’s parents are here,” you say.
“Oh,” he says, sucking in a sharp breath. “Alright, I’ll head back up and send them down. I just finished all the paperwork on my end, so…guess we’ll leave and give ‘em some space.”
“Okay,” you say, that lump in the back of your throat returning. “See you soon.”
You hang up and stuff your phone into your back pocket. “He’s going to be here in a second, and then he said you guys are free to go down there and see her.”
“Thank you, honey,” Shannan’s father says.
“Did you know our baby girl?” her mother asks through sniffles.
“I met her a few times,” you say, keeping the details vague for their sake.
Shannan’s parents nod and give you a soft smile.
“She was such a beautiful girl,” her mother says wistfully. “Kind to the bone.”
Not wanting to burst her bubble with the truth that while Shannan was certainly beautiful, kind isn’t the word you’d use to describe her, you smile and nod. “She was. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank l you, dear,” she says before turning back to the lady at the front desk to get their visitors' pass sorted.
You’re thankful for the gentle dismissal, using the moment to sneak outside. You find your way to Joel’s truck and since it’s locked up, you unlatch the tailgate and hoist yourself up onto it. You stay there, sweating in the summer heat as Joel’s oversized and threadbare hoodie wraps around you like one of his hugs. It’s a necessary comfort, smelling the faintest hint of his body wash on the cotton. It makes you feel less like a terrible person, living a life full of lies and half-truths.
Joel is the only person who gets your honesty, and even that has been a learning curve. It’s ironic in a way, and it’s beautiful in another.
You sit outside staring at the stars for fifteen minutes before Joel finds you.
“Thought you left,” he says, the words coming out more vulnerable than you think he meant them to.
“No,” you say, and it comes out like a promise. I’m never leaving, not unless you ask me to. “Just needed some air.”
He smiles softly and nods as he joins you on the tailgate. He’s sitting close enough that you can feel his warmth, but far enough that if anyone you knew stopped the two of you, it wouldn’t give anything away.
“You met her parents, I take it?” he asks, nudging your shoulder with his.
“They’re nice,” you note, and it’s the truth. How the apple fell so far from the tree, you don’t know.
“Makes ya wonder,” he says, shaking his head as a chuckle escapes him.
Your eyes fix on his profile, lit up by the fluorescent hospital lights. He doesn’t look like a man in grief, he looks at peace. At worst, he looks like a man who’s exhausted from having to come here in the dead of night and act as someone’s next of kin that he considers nothing more than a stranger.
“What did she do that made you hate her so much?” you ask without paying much mind to how insensitive it might come across. Joel isn’t offended though, he simply shrugs and lets out a long sigh.
“I don’t know if I hate her, but…Shannan did a lot of shit in our seventeen years of bein’ together that makes it easy to say goodbye,” he says, rubbing his hands up and down his denim clad thighs.
You realize you were wrong. Joel isn’t at peace, he’s anxious. All of the chuckling and soft smiles, the careful ways of touching you in public without touching you in public, the nervous fidgeting.
He’s anxious, and it makes you want nothing more than to reach out and squeeze him close until all of those gray cloud feelings are absorbed into you instead.
“Beyond the cheatin’—which there was plenty of,” he continues, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes focus on the gray exterior of the hospital. “Shannan’s favorite hobby was knockin’ me down, be it emotionally, financially,…shit, even physically, sometimes. That woman came in when I was at my lowest, widowed with a little girl to raise and a business I wasn’t sure would make it, and I thought that meant she was the one. Truth is, she only picked me out because she needed a solid punchin’ bag to take all her own shit out on. And, ever the fool, I let her do that for twelve years before we finally separated. Then, she let it drag on for five more years—comin’ back every now and then when I was too lonely to know better.”
“Jesus,” you say, suddenly feeling foolish for ever feeling sorry for the woman. Except, you still do. Not because she’s gone, but because she spent the last decade and a half of her life ruining a good thing instead of relishing in having someone like Joel in her corner.
“So, call it heartless or whatever you wanna call it, but I grieved Shannan a long time ago,” he says, pursing his lips as he turns to face you.
You frown, desperately wanting to reach your hand over to cup his cheek. His eyes, so full of a sea of emotion, sparkle in the light, and it does nothing for this gnawing desire to hold him. It’s not sexual, this feeling, and yet…it’s no less intimate.
More intimate than you’ve allowed most relationships to feel.
But then again, no part of your relationship with Joel has been like the relationships you’ve had before.
“On another note,” he starts, chuckling breathily into the night. “You and I just had sex.”
You smile, biting your lip at the salacious memory. “We did.”
“And without a condom,” he adds, wincing a little bit.
“I’m clean,” you offer. “And I trust you.”
He nods, giving you a soft look. “You’re not on birth control?”
“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head. “Fucked with my body too much. And my head. Mood swings, weight gain…all that fun stuff. Got off of it a year or so ago, and I don’t plan on going back.”
He nods again, his eyes thoughtful as they roam over your face. “I’ve been wantin’ a vasectomy for a while now. Maybe it’s time I make an appointment.”
“You don’t have to do that for me,” you say, and it’s true. No matter how hot the idea of Joel coming inside of you is, he doesn’t have to do anything to his body just for your sake. There’s condoms and plan B pills and the fucking pull out method, after all. You’ll make it work.
“No, trust me. I’ve been wantin’ it. This is just another reason. The best reason, really,” he says, smiling at me. “I, uh, might have a thing for that.”
You tilt your head and smirk, eyeing him up and down. “You got a breeding kink, Texas?”
“An unexplored breedin’ kink mostly,” he says, scratching the back of his neck as a red tint finds its way onto his cheeks. “Sarah obviously got here somehow, but I was too young to understand what it was back then. And then by the time I started thinkin’ about it, I was with Shannan, and she didn’t want anything to do with that. Most times, I had to wear two condoms even with her on birth control, and she still had me pull out. Didn’t want a kid with me, which is fair. I didn’t want one with her. But…” He sucks in a deep breath and exhales it with a laugh. “All that to say, I had a good time earlier. With you. But if you ain’t—”
“Oh, I am,” you cut him off, smiling down at your lap. “It’s not something I’ve ever really gotten to explore either.”
Joel licks his lips and tries to hide the smile that spreads across his face by looking up at the clear night sky. “Alright, then.”
You snort, bumping your shoulder into his. “Alright, then.”
JOEL
I hate funerals. Always have.
Maybe it’s because I started going to them so early on in my life. First my grandmother, a month after my eighth birthday, then my grandfather a couple years after that. Then it was my dad when I was seventeen, Sarah’s mom when I was twenty, and finally, my mom, who passed shortly before Sarah’s first birthday.
Each loss got harder to take. My life got bleaker. The color black felt darker.
Except, this particular funeral isn’t all that dark and gloomy.
Maybe it’s the hidden glee of being rid of Shannan and the misery she likes to cause. Maybe it’s the fact that after this, I won’t have to pay any more alimony to a woman that was born already having a trust fund. Or, maybe it’s just the fact that Sarah’s here with me this time, holding my hand through it all.
“It is as surprising to you that the She-Devil managed to accumulate this many friends?" she asks from beside me as we sit in the far corner of a church pew, towards the back of the room.
I stifle a laugh and shake my head as I subtly scan the room full of unfamiliar faces. The only people I recognize are her parents, Tommy, Maria, and Benji. Aside from that, I’m far removed from anyone who’d bother coming to my ex-wife’s funeral.
“This must be the batch that hadn’t known her long enough to hate her,” I murmur under my breath.
Sarah chuckles without care of what it might look like. The ex-husband and step-daughter from hell, snickering during a funeral service. Only, if we’re from hell, Shannan’s the one who ruled the damn place.
“Hey, did you…uh, ever talk to Shannan before she, you know…croaked over?” Sarah asks hesitantly, her eyes locked on her hands as they smooth over the black fabric of her skirt. I take a minute to look her over, studying the almost scared look on her face.
“We talked earlier that day,” I confess. “Your friend called me and asked me to come pick her up from work, and she was there. Caught me and tried her usual shit.”
“Wait—” Sarah’s head shakes, her eyes blinking before she turns to me. She’s too good at listening sometimes. “So you know you’ve got a glorified stripper as your roommate and you don’t care?”
I rear back at that, my brows lacing together. “That’s your best friend, kiddo. I didn’t teach you to talk like that about anybody, let alone your people.”
“She doesn’t care,” she says with an eye roll. “Besides, it’s the truth.”
“Well, I didn’t see any strippin’ goin’ in there,” I say, clearing my throat. “Anyway, why were you askin’ if Shannan and I talked?”
Her throat bobs with a thick swallow. “I…”
Her hazel eyes meet mine, heavy with something…well, heavy. Shame, maybe. Remorse, possibly.
“Dad, I fucked up,” she whispers, those same bright eyes turning glassy. I frown, my heart aching at the sight of her like this. Even when I know she’s in the wrong.
“C’mere,” I say, wrapping an arm around her shoulder to pull her into my side.
I press a kiss to the top of her head and breathe in the familiar scent of shampoo. The shit I bought her after she came home crying about being teased for her frizzy curls. It smells like shea butter and vanilla. It smells like she’s still my little girl, goofy and long-limbed at ten.
“It’s okay,” I murmur, holding her the same way I would when she’d stumble into my room in the middle of the night with her stuffed elephant and her blankie. “We don’t have to talk about it right now.”
“Okay,” she sniffles, wiping her eyes. “On a lighter note, at least it finally looks like we’re in mourning.”
I stifle a laugh and shake my head. “We’re goin’ to hell, kid.”
“Last call before I’m off, Jerome.” Your elbows are perched onto the sticky bar top as you lock eyes with your favorite customer. Or second favorite, depending on whether it’s a night Joel comes in.
Jerome’s eyes are red and glassy, a sign of a solid night of drinking under his belt. His toothy—or a lack thereof—grin is another tell he’s feeling particularly good tonight. “I won’t bother ya anymore than I already have, honey. Go on back early and sneak out before that pretty boy gets back from the pisser.”
He’s talking about Veneers. The squirrelly, plastic tooth shining, finance bro of a stalker that won’t give up the chase.
At first, it was just a little annoying—like most of the men who can’t seem to tell when a woman isn’t interested. Then, after a few weeks, it got plain irritating. Now, it’s starting to scare you, the way he just won’t stop showing up. He doesn’t bother any of the other girls. He doesn’t even look at them. His attention is alarmingly focused on you. So focused that even Jerome has noticed.
“Good idea,” you say, quickly untying your apron as you check both ways before sneaking off to the hallway that leads to the locker room.
You make quick work of your outfit—a solid blue one-piece that cuts low on the cleavage and high on the hips—and slip into your sweats, tank top, and the uggs Joel likes to call your potato shoes. After cashing out and saying goodbye to all the girls, you dial Joel’s number and wait for that familiar rasp to filter through the line.
“Hey, darlin’,” he croons, and just like every time he speaks, it goes straight to your center. “I’m about ten away.”
“Okay,” you say, your voice taking on a sugary sweet tone that you weren’t sure you were capable of. Clearing your throat, you try to reel in your lust. “I’ll be waiting outside.”
“Alright, baby. See you soon.” Joel chuckles, and to hell with reeling shit in. You’ll be lucky if you don’t climb him like a tree the minute you see him.
It’s been a long week, after all.
Between Shannan’s passing, her parents coming around the house, and Sarah coming to stay for the funeral, the two of you haven’t gotten a moment alone since coming home from the hospital. You certainly haven’t gotten a chance to do anything resembling picking up where you left off, and boy does your body know it.
You feel the anticipation humming down your spine as you sneak out through the back exit with your dude bag over your shoulders and your phone in hand. Your
eyes are locked on your screen, replying to a text from Sarah you got earlier that you never had the chance to respond to.
You’re midway through typing out your reply—of which was a series of mind blown emojis followed by a coffin—when you bump into a soft body.
“Shit, sorry…” Your words trail off as your eyes lift to meet the glassy, reddened gaze of Mr. Veneers, himself. Alone. In the dark alley beside the bar.
“You weren’t gonna say bye to me, Blue?” he asks with a playful frown that does nothing but turn your stomach sour.
Suddenly, you never want to hear that name again. The way he says it makes you feel so slimy. Too much like prey.
“My ride’s almost here,” you say, half because it’s the truth and half in hopes that he’ll back off. “Didn’t have time to make my rounds tonight.”
He nods slowly, his tongue making a clicking sound as he stares into your soul like he’s trying to find something there.
“Hurt my feelings, Blue,” he says, that horrible liquor-laced breath fanning over your face as he crowds you against the brick wall.
You swallow thickly, hoping to drink down your fear. Men like this seem to get off on that shit, and the last thing you’re going to do is go out afraid. Fuck no.
“Back up,” you demand, shoving at his chest. It’s soft, not in the way yours is, but in the same way that a forty-something-year-old with a love of beer is.
“All this time,” he whispers, leaning in to ghost his lips over your neck. “How long has it been? A month? Two months? I forget.”
“Long enough,” you grunt, shoving at him again to no avail.
“Exactly,” he chuckles. “Long enough that I should’ve gotten more than a couple of your used panties by now. At least they still smell like you.”
Your stomach hollows. Your chest caves. Your hands shake.
All this time, it was him. The break in. This slimy, weasley mother fucker was the one to follow you home and break in.
Your knee lifts before you even realize you’re doing it, and finds its mark right beneath his belt.
He doubles over with a groan, giving you enough space to slip away, but not enough to lose him completely. You feel like a girl in a cheesy horror film, jogging and constantly checking behind you to find that he’s right there, laughing like he enjoys this.
“Come on, Blue,” he calls, too close for comfort.
Thankfully, you’re nearing the parking lot now. It’s still dark, but not as dark as the back. There are stragglers nearby, even if they’re all drunk. There’s even security posted out front—except, there isn’t.
Stupid fucking Diego and his weak bladder.
“Stop following me!” you shout, earning the attention of a few cigarette smokers by their trucks. “Sick fuck!”
“Blue,” he croons. “Don’t be like that.”
You’re distracted by a pair of headlights turning into the parking lot. Joel’s headlights. Headlights that mean safety and security. You can almost feel his arms wrapped around you.
But instead…
“Get off me!” Your body thrashes in Veneer’s hold as he tries to press you up against a random car. His hands are wandering, trying to get access to you, but your nails digging into his skin stop him from getting anywhere. “Get the fuck off—“
A solid crunch fills the night air as Joel’s fist connects with Veneer’s jaw, knocking him to the ground.
“Get in the truck,” he orders, his voice hard like you’ve never heard it before. You do as he says without argument, rushing over to the passenger seat of his truck and climbing in.
The windows are down, giving you a front row seat to their exchange.
“I knew you she was letting you fuck her,” Veneers spits as he stands upright, his gaze finding yours. “Thought you didn’t fuck customers, Blue! What happened to that?”
Joel punches him again, knocking him back onto his ass. He kneels down grabbing him by the collar. “You don’t talk to her, you hear me? You talk to me.”
“Yes, sir,” he smirks, all bloody and…toothless. Joel knocked those ugly veneers right out of his mouth.
“Miller, what the fuck?” One of the men who occasionally stumbles in from out of town, Javi, jogs over from somewhere in the lot and peers over the two of them. “The fuck you doin’?”
“Peña,” Joel sighs, standing upright and shaking out his wrist. “This dipshit was tryin’ to hurt my girl. Wasn’t doin’ nothin’ but remindin’ him what it’s like to fight someone his size.”
Javi lets out a dry scoff and arches a brow. “He looks about half your size from over here, but I get it. Let me call someone from the department to scoop his ugly ass up. You go check on your girl.”
Joel nods and pats him on the shoulder with his non-bloody hand as he makes his way over to the truck. He grunts as he climbs in and slams the door shut.
“Joel, I’m so sorry—“
He reaches over with his bloodied fist and cups your cheek softly, as if he wasn’t just beating a grown man down in your honor, and drags you over for a kiss. “Don’t apologize for a single thing, baby. You did nothin’ wrong.”
Your head is nodding, but you’re too lost in his eyes to pay much attention to what he’s saying.
“He was the guy,” you manage once you get your bearings. “The break in. He said it was him.”
Joel’s molars grind and eyes bat shut for a beat. “I’m gonna kill him.”
He reaches for the door but you stop him, grabbing him by the bicep. “Don’t…please?”
Joel sucks in a deep breath and shakes his head as he keeps his eyes on you, both of you ignoring the bullshit Veneers is spitting at you as he remains seated on the gravel with Javi looming over him like he’s used to doing this sort of thing.
“Alright,” he says, settling back into his seat.
“Hey, Miller,” Javi calls out, pulling Joel’s attention away. “Why don’t y’all go home? There’s plenty of witnesses here for the report. I’ll drop by the office tomorrow to get more info from you, but there’s no reason for you two to stick around and listen to this asshole.”
Joel nods and gives him a flat smile—which must be the best he can muster given how tightly his jaw is still clamped. “Thanks, Peña.”
“No problem,” he says, giving you a polite, charming smile. You’re sure it goes a long way with the girls here at the bar—employees or otherwise—but it doesn’t do anything for you. Not the way those rare smirks from the surly man beside you does.
JOEL
Thank fuck for the woman loving, bar hopping Sherriff Javier Peña.
That’s the thought that’s been playing on a loop since I put the truck in drive and left that fucking parking lot.
That, and Jesus Christ, I’m in love with this woman. It’s the only plausible explanation for why I’d be willing to catch a homicide charge for her.
“Who was that?” she asks from beside me as we drive home in silence. My bloody, sore right hand hasn’t let go of hers since I put the car in drive. I can’t will it to. “Peña.”
“He’s a Sherriff,” I say, my voice quieter than usual. “Tommy knew him in college. Think he moved down here a year or so ago after leavin’ the DEA. Good guy. Likes to drink and whore around, but he’s a good guy.”
She nods slowly, her eyes scanning the mostly empty road before us. It’s a Sunday night, and this far out of the city, everyone is either at home or out partying. There’s only a few headlights that pass us, and even less stragglers on the sidewalk the closer we get to our neighborhood.
Funny how just a few blocks mean the difference between a sketchy neighborhood like where Blue used to live, and my quaint little suburban slice of heaven.
“He comes in sometimes,” she says mindlessly. “Never really talked to him, though.”
“Yeah,” I sigh, resting my head against the seat as I make the turn onto our street.
“Joel, I…” My eyes flit to Blue as she turns over to look at me with red-rimmed, wet eyes. “Are you mad at me? For…I don’t know. He—he didn’t touch me. I didn’t let him touch me. I don’t know if you’re mad because you think I let him—“
I pull the truck to an abrupt stop in my driveway and shut it off before hopping out and circling the hood to her side.
“What—“ she starts, only to have me tug her into my arms, my face buried in her neck as I let out a ragged sigh.
“No, honey. I’m not mad at you,” I say through the frog in my throat. “I’m just tryin’ to talk myself outta turnin’ around and killin’ that fucker for even thinkin’ of hurtin’ you, let alone actually outrun’ his hands on you? Stalkin’ you like this? Everything in me is beggin’ to hurt him like he wanted to hurt you.”
“He’s not worth the prison time,” she says, pulling a chuckle out of me. “Besides, who knows if they’ll allow conjugal visits?”
I pull back, my swollen hand and my perfectly intact one framing her face. “You have an incredibly dark sense of humor, Blue. You know that?”
She melts, her eyes twinkling with stars.
“Say that again,” she says, sliding her hands up my chest.
“What?”
“My nickname.”
“Blue?”
A tear slips down her cheek and her lips tremble. “Again.”
My heart feels like it’s in a vice grip as realization dawns on me. She needs this. Desperately, it seems.
“Blue,” I say, stroking my thumbs over her cheeks. “Let’s go to bed, okay?”
She nods, sniffling as she lets me carry her bag and guide her inside the house without a single snarky comeback. Once again, the strong, always has to look out for herself woman softens into something more vulnerable for me.
And I couldn’t be more honored.
My arm is held tight by her as we walk through the living room and turn to make our way down the hall, stopping at her bedroom door. She pauses, frowns, and swallows thickly as her eyes flit between me and the door.
“Guess this is my stop,” she jokes, an awkward puff of air slipping from her lips as she lets go of me to reach for the door.
“Pit stop,” I correct, leaning over to press a kiss to her forehead. “Get what y’need for the night and come upstairs. I’ll get the bath runnin’ for ya.”
Her wide eyes follow me as I open the door for her and set her duffle inside.
“What?” I chuckle.
“I’m so pissed,” she says, scoffing and shaking her head.
My brows narrow, wondering what I did to set her off. Maybe it was presumptive of me to think she’d want to spend the night in my room. Maybe all she wants is the comfort of her own bed, some privacy. Maybe she thinks I’m just trying to get laid, and that’s why I’m bringing her upstairs.
My hand runs through my hair and tugs on the strands as I try to piece together an apology that makes any sense.
“Listen, Blue, I—“
“All I wanted to do tonight was to come home from work and fuck you until you were seeing stars, and now I’m too emotional to do any of that,” she elaborates. “And the way you’re taking care of me right now? I would like nothing more than to blow you until the sun comes up, but that fucker had to go and ruin my fun.”
It’s my turn to gawk at her with wide eyes and parted lips. Even my hands don’t know what to do with themselves—one remains buried in my hair and the other hangs slack at my side.
She laughs at my current state of speechlessness and pats me on the stomach. “Don’t worry, Texas. Tomorrow’s a brand new day.”
After your bath—which Joel politely declined to join, but sat on the floor beside you and distracted you by filling you in on all the familial drama that happened at the funeral service—you find yourself cozied up in Joel’s bed for the first time.
Actually, it’s the first time you’ve ever even been in his room.
It’s a modestly decorated space, despite the size of the room being larger than any you’ve ever lived in. There’s pictures of Sarah and Tommy, a couple of an older pair you aren’t familiar with but can assume are his parents, and a couple odd 90s grunge band posters on the wall, but beyond that, it looks like he’s just moved in.
His bed, clad in dark sage sheets and a matching plaid comforter, is cozy, though. His mattress is nicer than yours by a long shot, and despite him being relatively conservative when it comes to his money—his paint-splattered jeans and hole-ladened T-shirts just one example—it seems as though Joel consciously invested in his bed.
And fuck, are you glad.
He’s showering now, the en-suite door left open a very tempting crack, but you have no intentions on sneaking in there tonight. If shit hadn’t gone so wrong, he would’ve never even made it past the hallway without you getting on your knees for him. But like all things in your life, shit never goes to plan.
You try not to ruminate on the what-ifs, choosing instead to scroll mindlessly in hopes of distracting yourself. It only works a little, but you hold onto that tiny slice of peace, letting it bloom into a daydream in which you never stepped foot into The Boot.
It hits you as you lay there that you’ll never step foot in there again. You’re done. That creep was the nail in the coffin that you’ve been building since day one. You’re not sure what you’re doing next, only that you’ll never go back to that again.
It’s not about shame or being too good for that kind of work, like Sarah assumes. It’s not even about safety. It’s just time for you to take the next step in your life and trust in the woman you’ve become to figure shit out.
Because that’s what you’ve always done, and you’re not going to stop now.
“You alive over there?” Joel’s voice snaps you out of your daze.
He’s standing in the doorway of the bathroom, steam and yellow light filtering into the room from behind him, illuminating his silhouette. He’s wearing his towel low on his hips and running a smaller wash cloth over his hair. With water heading down his chest all the way down to his happy trail, he looks criminally beautiful. Your thighs squeeze together, desperate despite your emotional energy being completely drained.
“Yeah,” you manage, and the word comes out choppy. “Just tired.”
He nods, not quite believing and not quite ready to call you out on it. “Yeah, alright. Lemme change and then we can go t’bed.”
“Kay,” you murmur, cozying up to his pillow as you watch him pad through the room and over to his dresser. He reaches into one of the drawers and pulls out a pair of briefs before looking over his shoulder at you.
“Should I…”
“You can change in front of me, Joel,” you chuckle. “I promise I won’t make a move on you…tonight.”
He laughs and turns back around. Your eyes wander over his back as he undoes his towel and uses it to pat his chest dry before tossing it across the room into a hamper, leaving him bare to you.
You can’t help but lick your lips at the sight of his firm ass, the dorito shape of his torso, the muscles in his back that pair so well with his broad shoulders. When he turns, he keeps his eyes on yours, dark and lidded as he waits for your gaze to travel down his front, all the way down to his half-hard cock that hangs thick and heavy between his legs.
“You’re beautiful,” you whisper mindlessly, mostly to yourself. Joel turns bashful, smiling to himself as he steps into his briefs and tugs them over his hips before adjusting his bulge.
“Was just thinkin’ the same thing ‘bout you,” he murmurs softly as he pads over to his side of the bed.
It feels so unrealistically domestic, watching him toss back the comforter and climb into bed beside you. The way his arms find you instantly, pulling you closer as if there was anywhere else you’d rather be. His scent, equal parts warm and clean, envelops you like a blanket fresh out of the dryer, and you can’t help but bury your face even closer to his skin.
“It’s been a tough week,” he sighs as his fingertips draw lines up and down your spine. You hum, nodding against his chest as sleep starts to take over.
The last words you hear are no more than a whisper, soft and gentle. A rasp you could’ve mistaken for the wind.
“S’gonna get easier, Blue. I swear.”
JOEL
I don’t know what time it is that I finally peel my eyes open, only that when I do, I’m graced with the prettiest sight in the world.
Blue, in nothing but a tank top and a pair of panties, padding around my room on tiptoes. I smile despite the throbbing pain in my right fist and up my arm as I watch her try to sneakily snoop around. She takes her time looking at the pictures I have framed on my dresser, spending an awfully long time on the one of a ten year old me, a six year old Tommy, and my parents at the Austin Zoo.
“Find anythin’ incriminatin’ yet?” I ask, my voice deeper and more hoarse than usual. She jumps, turning around like she’s a thief who’s been caught.
“When the hell did you wake up?” she asks, chuckling at her own panic as she rests a hand over her heart.
“Just a minute or two ago,” I say, leaning to sit up against the headboard.
“Should’ve known when the bear-like snoring stopped,” she mutters as she turns back to the picture. “How old were you here?”
“Ten.”
“You were cute,” she says, smirking at me. “A little shrimpy, but cute.”
I roll my eyes and let a chuckle escape before patting the bed beside me. “C’mere.”
She obliges, sauntering over to me with that smile that has my briefs suddenly feeling a whole lot tighter. It only gets worse when she reaches the bed and crawls up to straddle my thighs.
My hands instantly find her hips, giving the soft flesh there a little squeeze before slipping lower to palm her ass. “How’re you feelin’ today?”
She lets out a soft sigh and shrugs as she uses a fingertip to draw shapes on my bare chest. “Yesterday fucking sucked. This whole week sucked, actually, but last night was…” Her head shakes and her eyes lower to watch the mindless movement of her fingertips against my skin. “So scary. And…I’m done.”
“Done with what, darlin’?”
“The bar,” she says, giving me a half frown as she lifts her eyes back up to meet mine. “Made it longer than a lot of girls do. Guess that’s a win.”
“You know I’d never tell you what to do, but I can’t say I’m not a little thankful to not have to worry about you every time you leave for a shift,” I say, smoothing my hands up her spine, beneath the thin cotton of her tank.
“You’re not annoyed to have an employed, car-less, twenty-five year old bumming off you?” she asks jokingly, but I can tell she means it more than she lets on.
She’s afraid to be a burden.
And I’m afraid she’s dead wrong.
“Listen to me,” I say, tugging her closer until her chest is pressed against mine. My lips draw close, brushing against hers with every word. “I want you here. I don’t care under what circumstances. I don’t care if you’re working or if you’ve got a car. All that will happen in due time, because I know you. You’re the kind of woman who gets shit handled. But I got news for you, darlin’. I’m the kind of man that handles shit for the people I love. Always. So…you’re gonna let me handle shit for you for a little while, and then you can go back to being a stubborn, independent woman who fights me over letting me pay for shit, and I’m gonna let you win a quarter of the time. Sound good?”
She smiles, pecking my lips. “Are we going to skip over the fact that you said you love me?”
I pull back, staring into her amused eyes as I try and play my words over in my head.
Did I say that?
Did I mean it?
Hell, of course I meant it. Just maybe would’ve given it a little before I let it slip.
“I—“
“I’m kidding,” she giggles, kissing me again. “I know what you meant. You care about me. You're not in love or anything.”
“Right,” I say, swallowing down the burning in my throat from wanting to correct her.
“Anyway, yes,” she says, just as her hand slips lower, over my stomach and down to the bulge in my briefs. “I’ll let you handle shit. Just like I’m hoping you’ll do right…” She reaches in and I let out a soft exhale as she gives my dick a firm tug. “Now.”
Joel wastes no time in taking charge like he said he would. He flips you onto your back like you weigh nothing and slots his hips between your open thighs, grinding his clothed dick against your pussy as his lips find yours.
“Y’want me to handle shit, baby?” he rasps, nipping at your bottom lip before doing the same to your jaw. “Want me to take care o’you? Make this pussy weep for me?”
“Fuck,” you whine, grinding up to meet his thrusts. You’re not sure if it’s you or him, but you can feel your panties sticking to your cunt, wet and sticky and all because of him. “Please.”
“Good girl,” he says, sucking in your pulse. “Knew you had good manners.”
The timbre of his voice has your toes curling and legs wrapping tight around his waist. “Joel, please.”
“Thought you wanted me to be in control, baby?” His tone is playful, teasing even. It’s as sexy as it is infuriating.
“I do, but—“
“Uh-uh,” he tuts, pulling back enough to look down at you. “I’m in charge right now, Blue. You don’t get to do a single thing except lay here and take what I give you. Alright?”
Your walls clench at the dominance in his tone. In his eyes.
Fuck, he looks so good like this. Hair mussed from a good night of sleep. Lips kiss-bitten and cheeks flushed the softest shade of red. His eyes, normally a soft brown—like dirt after it rains—have melted into something darker and warmer, like molten chocolate.
“Okay,” you manage, your voice breathy and a bit wistful, as if a part of you doesn’t quite believe you’re actually here, laying beneath him being promised everything you’ve ever craved.
The corner of his mouth threatens to curl, but he buries his face in the valley between your breasts before you can get a glimpse at that smile of his. His hands, one swollen and bruised and one completely fine, palm at your breasts, pressing them together until he’s practically suffocating himself between them.
“Fuck,” he groans, rutting his hips into yours as he greedily mouths at your left breast, nipping at your nipple through your tank before doing the same to the other. “The things I want to do t’these perfect fuckin’ tits, Blue. If I wasn’t already goin’ t’hell, I surely am now.”
His twang is so much thicker right now. If you hadn’t spent the entire night beside him, you’d think he was drunk.
But the only thing he’s drunk on right now is you.
“Maybe later on,” he says to himself, shaking his head like he’s having to talk himself out of an idea. “Right now I need t’eat this pretty fuckin’ pussy.”
“Joel,” you whimper, too lust-drunk to care how needy or nonsensical you sound.
“Shhh,” he hushes, lifting your tank up by the hem until you’re tugging it off and throwing it across the room. Chest and stomach bare, Joel leans back on his knees to look you over.
Swollen, heavy breasts. A round, soft stomach full of stretch marks. White cotton panties that are soaked down the center.
He eyes it all like a starving man and rubs a hand over his chin before giving his head a soft shake. “You’re too good t’be fuckin’ true.”
He kneels between your thighs like he’s praying, holds your hips like you’re something precious, and mouths at your clothed cunt like a fucking sinner. It’s a delicious concoction of awe and tenderness and depravity that has your walls clenching with each swipe of his tongue over your clothed bud.
“Y’taste so fuckin’ good, Blue,” he groans, tugging your panties to the side. “So fuckin’ sweet.”
Your hands find their way into his hair as his mouth latches onto your swollen cunt, sucking and flicking and fucking you like you never thought possible.
No man before this has ever had such a passion for eating pussy, let alone skill. But Joel has it all. He eats pussy like a man starved.
“Jesus, fuck, Joel,” you manage between moans and shudders and the wet slurps of his mouth on your clit. “You’re so fucking good. Fuck. I’m gonna come if you keep doing that.”
“Uh-uh,” he says, pulling away with a slick mouth and lust-blown pupils. He doesn’t bother asking or directing, he just grips your hips with his hands and flips you over until your ass is in the air. “Not ‘til I’m done.”
You’re sure the cry you let out can be heard down the block as Joel’s mouth finds your cunt again, this time from behind. He drags his tongue from your clit all the way up to your puckered hole and both of you let out a strangled groan as he tastes you there.
“Fuck,” he hisses, sliding his fingers over your thigh until he’s guiding two into your cunt. “You know how good you look like this, baby? Bent over for me, your ass in my face, your cunt wrapped around my fingers. Fuck, you should see how fuckin’ wet you are. Drippin’ down my wrist. This what you like? Me fuckin’ your ass with my tongue while my fingers spread you open?”
He’s rambling, but fuck is it the hottest rambling you’ve ever heard. Everything he’s saying is pure filth and torn right out of your fantasy of things you wish men said in bed.
“Yes, fuuuuuuck,” you cry, fucking yourself back against his mouth as he pulls his fingers out just to taste your cunt again. “Please, Joel! Please!”
“Please what?” he asks, barely pulling away enough to sound coherent before he’s back at it, sucking your clit just like that favorite toy of yours does.
“Please fuck me,” you beg. “Please, please…I want your dick inside me when I come for you.”
“Jesus, Blue,” he groans, pulling back to sit up on his knees. “You want me to come in my pants like a fuckin’ kid?”
You peer over your shoulder, eyeing him as he pulls his briefs down just enough to tug his dick out, giving it a few strokes as his eyes meet yours.
“Y’want this dick, baby?” he asks, his voice pure southern sin. You nod eagerly, bringing a smile to his face. “Y’want me to fill this pussy up?”
“Fuck, yes.”
Joel lets out a small growl, as if the sound escaped from somewhere deep inside him, and lines himself up with your cunt before settling both hands on your hips.
With a smirk, he leans forward, just enough to slide the tip in before giving you one last piece of advice.
“Hold on tight, Blue.”
JOEL
Sinking into her feels like dying and being revived all at the same time. Her walls, warm and wet, suck me in deep as I thrust into her fast and hard. Her moans fill the entire house, blending with my rough grunts until it sounds like a symphony straight out of hell.
But this—feeling her, hearing her, tasting her— is nothing short of heaven.
“God damn, Blue,” I moan, tossing my head back as the tip of my cock hits that spongy spot that has us both trembling. “Y’gonna make me come quick, baby girl. Shit.”
“Please don’t stop!” she cries, digging her hands into the comforter.
“Fuck,” I hiss, feeing the tension in my spine wind tighter, like a thread about to snap. ”Baby, I don’t know if I can—shit—baby, I’m gonna come soon. Feels too fuckin’ good.”
I slide my hand around her body and find her clit, swollen and throbbing before I even touch her.
“Fuck, you’re right there too, ain’t ya?” I murmur against her shoulder, grinding my cock slower and deeper in an effort to make this last longer. “S’this pussy ‘bout t’come for me, baby?”
“Fuuuuuck yes,” she groans, desperate and lost in her pleasure. Her voice is deeper, raspier, sexier. Suddenly, all I want to do is keep her like this—pliant and feeling good because of me. “Joel…fuck, I—god, I’m coming! Fuck! I’m coming!”
I can feel it. Her pussy is strangling my cock, trying to milk me dry. And shit, the temptation to let her is strong.
But I shouldn’t.
But fuck, I want to.
“Where,” I demand, only capable of offering her a single word clue as to what I mean.
“Inside,” she begs, fucking herself back onto me. “Fill me up, Joel. Fuck it deep.”
I’m almost positive my heart stops for a second. But not even death would keep me from being here with her in this moment. Giving her exactly what she wants, even if it is irresponsible.
She’s the only person I want to be this irresponsible with.
“Fuck,” I whimper, fucking into her at a brutal pace as that long forgotten euphoria washes over me. My hands tremble as I hold her ass apart so that I can watch the mess I’m making between her thighs. “Your pussy looks so fuckin’ good like this, baby. Drippin’ with my come.”
Her walls twitch around me in response to my filthy words and it brings a smile to my face. She catches me grinning like a fool from over her shoulder, and soon we’re both laughing.
“You’ve got a potty mouth in bed, Texas,” she sighs contentedly. “And I fucking love it.”
“Stay right here,” I say, pulling out of her slowly, watching her pussy leak with my come. “Fuck. Remind me to get a picture of that next time.”
She snorts and rolls over with a dopey smile on her face. “Yeah, we’ll just get you a disposable camera to capture all your filthy memories.”
“Nah,” I say, giving her ass a pat before climbing off the bed. I make quick work of grabbing a damp wash cloth before bringing it back over to wipe her clean. “Then the creep they got working at the photo counter will get t’see all this.”
She hums thoughtfully. “Maybe a Polaroid camera, then. That way the only creep gawking at me is you.”
I nip at her thigh playfully before tossing the rag into the laundry bin in the corner of the room. “Could you hand me my phone, baby? Peña’s supposed to give me a call before he stops—“
The doorbell ringing downstairs cuts me off.
Blue giggles and wags taps her finger against the tip of her nose. “Nose goes.”
With an eye roll and a peck to her lips, I drag myself over to the closet and throw on the first thing I find before making my way downstairs.
When I open the door, I’m greeted by Sheriff Peña in all his khaki uniformed glory, aviators and all. He’s gotten older since I last saw him a decade ago, but I’d be lying if I said the fucker hasn’t maintained his youth. Not a gray hair in sight. Just like Tommy’s lucky ass.
“Peña,” I say, stuffing my hands in my pockets as I move out of the way so he can come inside. “How’s it go last night?”
“Well, he’s in jail,” he says with a sigh. “Tried to run on me, but unfortunately for him, I ran track in college, so.”
“Didn’t turn out well for the asshole, I hope.”
“No, no,” he chuckles. “By the time he was at the station, he had a couple bloodied knees and palms to match the mess you made of his face.”
“Good.” There’s no humor in and I don’t mean there to be. If I cared less about my life, I’d have done more than bloodied his face up a little.
“Anyway, I just wanted to give you these forms so that your girl can fill them out,” he says, handing over a manila folder. “Restraining order, in case he makes bail—which he probably will, given that the fuck is a trust fund baby. There’s also a copy of the police report in there with witness statements. Any judge in their right mind would give him time, but…it’s not always easy getting justice for this kind of thing.”
I take a deep breath and let it back out. Just the thought of that fuck getting off with just a slap on the wrist has my feeling murderous.
“Look, Miller. Between you and me, this guy’s got repeat offender written all over him. If I were you and I was serious about protecting that girl—“
“I am,” I say, faster than my brain can process it. Javi smiles softly, knowingly, and gives me a solitary nod.
“Then I’d consider moving her out of Austin,” he says. “I know it’s tough with the business being here, but…you never know how fucked in the head some of these dudes are. I’ve seen plenty of shit in Colombia to know you should never get too comfortable. Alright?”
I nod and show him out, giving him a handshake before watching him pull out of the driveway. Staring down at the stack of papers in my hand—papers that mean so little where men like him are concerned—I let myself imagine a life away from Austin.
A life with Blue.
We could move to Dallas. I could run the business from up there, if not just open a new office. There’s plenty of development opportunities there. Plenty of interior design firms for Blue. We’d even be closer to Sarah.
That would mean we’d have to tell her, of course, but that’s going to have to happen eventually. Maybe it’ll just have to be sooner than we expected.
Two warm hands find my shoulders from behind me as I stand in the open doorway. “Now that the big bad Sheriff is gone, can I make you pancakes and then give you a blowjob while you eat them?”
Yeah.
There’s no way I’m letting anything happen to this girl.
2087
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