Wicked Secret Page 16

  I can’t help but snicker, thinking about the panties he’d stuffed in my mouth last night. The double entendre is clear.

  It makes me feel playful, frisky, and powerful. That’s not something I feel often with him since he always seems to dominate me.

  My hands go to the button of his jeans, popping it free. “I have a very good idea of what I can fill my mouth with.”

  August groans. “Please don’t be joking.”

  He kisses me again. I get sidetracked with the magic of his mouth, but then he’s ripping away from me.

  August starts to push his jeans down his hips, then gestures pointedly at my lower torso. He wants me to get rid of my shorts so we’re both fully naked.

  I can do that. I start to shimmy them down my legs, but I end up freezing when August says, “Oh yeah… back to Sam. He was pointing out you have a lot on your plate.”

  I straighten up, my shorts now falling to my ankles on their own accord.

  August isn’t looking at me but working his jeans off. “Well, he was pointing out how much you have to do. You are taking care of him, the house, meals, and you are homeschooling him while he’s sick. It got me thinking… maybe we should consider enrolling him in school after the first of the year, so it’ll take one thing off your plate. And, honestly, as long as you’re staying here and until you find a place of your own, I don’t want you doing the cleaning. I’m going to hire someone to do it.”

  August’s jeans come off, hitting the floor. He straightens, gloriously naked. His smile is transparent. He’s proud of himself for coming up with these solutions to help me out.

  Realizing I cannot let him see how disappointed I am, I work to control my expression. I don’t want him to know how much it hurts that I thought he might be asking me out on a date because it was important to our son, but instead he merely wants to hire a housekeeper to take some chores off my list of responsibilities.

  I swallow the bitterness down, and it tastes awful. But I manage to smile and lace my voice with gratitude I don’t feel. “That’s awesome. Thank you.”

  I step closer to August, my hands going to his hips. There is no doubt the only thing we will ever have between us is sex. It’s just going to have to be enough for me.

  In this moment… right now… it is. I love what he does to me and what I can do to him.

  I drop to my knees, wrapping my hand around the thick girth of him. Raising my eyes, I find him gazing at me with a harshly beautiful face.

  His voice is thickened and gruff. “You have no idea how beautiful you are while on your knees before me.”

  Leaning in, I tentatively lick the base of his cock.

  August’s eyes close. His head falls back as he groans, and he admits, “It’s been driving me nuts to know you had your mouth on Declan and not on me.”

  Well, I’m glad I can give August something he appreciates, so I take him deep into my mouth.

  CHAPTER 23

  August

  Nothing brings people together like food. Leighton outdid herself by creating a huge Mexican feast with lots of dishes for us to pass around. Tacos, fajitas, enchiladas, Spanish rice, and beans. Bowls of salsa, guacamole, fresh shredded cheddar, and sour cream. It’s a good mechanism by which to ensure there is at least some conversation because at the very least someone might need to say, “Will you pass the guacamole?”

  Admittedly, it was a little awkward when my parents arrived. They had insisted on getting a rental car and driving from the airport. We waited for them on the porch. When the car pulled in, Sam was practically vibrating with nervous energy. The kid wasn’t sure whether he should rush his new grandparents and fling himself into their arms, or if he should politely wait for them to approach for a handshake. I’m sure he had some fear of rejection, which no amount of reassurance from me that my parents loved him already had eased.

  He doesn’t know my parents yet. Never have there been two more loving, easygoing, or generous people. My mom made it easy by stepping out of the car, dropping to her knees, and throwing her arms wide open. It was all Sam needed to rush off the porch and greet his grandparents with huge hugs.

  Leighton was far more fearful. I could tell this simply by her body language and the way she kept wringing her hands. Her insecurities were written all over her face. She wasn’t sure whether to hug them or fall to the ground and beg for forgiveness for keeping them away from their grandson.

  She didn’t know I had a separate conversation with my parents after the first. I talked to them privately where Leighton, Sam, and Mike couldn’t overhear. I knew they would have deeper questions than what they were willing to ask in that first call, knowing Sam was right there. It was understandable they would be confused and probably angry at the situation because I had been through the same exact gamut of emotions.

  During that conversation, I focused mostly on Leighton. I mean, who would have thought I’d become Leighton’s biggest champion over the course of her actions? But I feel like I’ve truly come to understand why she made the choices she did, and I have decided not to hold her up to the standards I would set for my present self—bolstered by my law enforcement experience and infinite wisdom.

  I made my parents understand that as well. It boiled down to the fact Leighton stayed hidden and kept Sam away from me because she felt that was the best way to keep him safe. Just as she blew that cover when he got sick and sought me out to help save his life.

  I told my parents Leighton showed an admirable quality of doing what was necessary for Sam’s safety and protection even if it meant hurting others or putting her own life in danger. It was something I had come to accept that could not be judged without being in her shoes, and I hoped my parents would feel the same way.

  While I’m sure it didn’t need to be said, I finished that conversation by asking them to please treat Leighton and Mike with kindness, respect, and understanding even if they felt differently. I assured them that I’d been angry at first, too, and I hoped they would eventually calm enough to accept the situation the way I have.

  Because Leighton is an amazing woman.

  I could go on and on about all the ways she is special because of how great a mother she is. Seeing I have a healthy, well adjusted, and happy child is all I could have asked for. That is directly due to Leighton.

  But fuck if she hasn’t proven that she is amazing in so many other ways. No other woman can compete with her in my bed. She holds my attention better than any other not because she does anything especially kinky, has some magic secret when fucking me, or attempts to push her boundaries.

  It’s simply because of who she is to me.

  The personal connection, the love we once shared, and the fact she bore my son sets her so far beyond any other woman I have been with that no one will ever hold a candle to her. It’s made it so abundantly clear how all my kinky fucking over the years has never been all that satisfying.

  Not compared to Leighton.

  It’s also clear The Wicked Horse is doing nothing to add to my sexual pleasure with her. I have just as satisfying a time with her in my home as I do in the club. In fact, I could actually do without the club as long as she was in my bed—and that’s a stark realization. A testament to how radically my thinking has changed in a matter of weeks.

  When she was down on her knees last night, she completely obliterated that Declan had a taste of her from my memory and thoughts. She made it clear she’s mine in every sense of the word, and she did it without saying a single word. With her actions alone.

  “Anyone want another beer?” Mike says as he pushes his chair away from the table.

  Blinking out of the sexual rabbit hole I’d fallen through while thinking about Leighton, I nod at Mike, as does my dad. I glance across the table at my mom, who sits beside Leighton. She’s deep in their discussion about the finer points of making guacamole. My dad is at the end of the table beside Sam, showing off his whittling knife to his grandson with promises to teach him the craft.

&n
bsp; I must admit… this situation is very satisfying.

  We are a family. Everyone in this room is united by one little boy—all willingly bound to him. It’s effortless to love a kid as great as Sam.

  My focus goes to Leighton. Could I have more with her? It’s not just a matter of committing to monogamy. Hell, I’ve done that already. It would merely be about trusting her enough to commit. Am I ready to close that breach of trust created when she left and never bothered to bring me into Sam’s life until she was forced to? It’s a pretty big obstacle to get past.

  “What are the plans for tomorrow?” my mother asks, glancing between Leighton and me.

  “Maybe you guys can take Sam out to the park for a little bit,” Leighton replies, looking to me for validation. I give her a slight nod to say I’m down with that. “I’m sure he’d love to get some fresh air. It can’t be for long, though. We want to minimize his exposure to other people because of the infection risk—at least for the next few weeks—and he does get tired pretty easily, so it would have to be a short adventure. But I think he would like that. What do you say, Sam?”

  Sam’s head pops up from examining his grandpa’s whittling knife. “That would be awesome. Maybe we can get ice cream, too.”

  “Sure we can.” My mother beams at her grandson before asking Leighton, “But what about you? Will you come?”

  The sincerity in my mom’s voice says she truly means that invitation. Mom is not just being polite. She truly would like Leighton to spend time with them, which tells me that they have already forgiven her transgressions.

  Leighton returns my mom’s smile, but she shakes her head. “I would love to, but I can’t tomorrow. My dad and I are going to go look at apartments. We actually have a realtor lined up to take us around.”

  This is news to me. I narrow my eyes, laser-like, on her. She keeps her gaze averted, which tells me she had assumed I would not like her revelation. It also tells me she’s thought a lot about this.

  I had merely assumed she and Sam would stay here for a while. Like… forever. I mean, he’s still recuperating. And it’s going to be a pain in the ass for them to move. Why would she even think about leaving?

  All questions I should be asking her, but it’s my mom who beats me to it. “Oh, Leighton… why would you even leave? I’m sure August doesn’t mind if you stay.”

  Exactly what I would say, Mom.

  But before I can even agree, Leighton’s setting a firm boundary. “I know, and that’s very sweet.” She gives me a pointed look. “But it’s time I establish my home here. I’m sure Sam will bounce between our places, so I’m looking for something close by.”

  What in the fuck is happening?

  “Are you staying in Vegas, too?” my dad asks Mike when he comes back to the table with beers.

  He hands them out. “I think I’m going to head back to Denver, but I anticipate a lot of visits to Vegas.”

  “I’m trying to talk him out of that,” Leighton says with a stern glare leveled on her father. They’ve been arguing about it over the last few days, but Mike doesn’t seem to be budging.

  “Yeah, Grandpa,” Sam exclaims. “I don’t want you to go. Please say you’ll stay.”

  Sam gives Leighton’s dad the most manipulative, pathetic frown—his lower lip stuck out just right—that I have ever seen.

  Mike just snorts. “I’ll think about it, kid. I’m just not sure what’s best for everyone.”

  Way to vague it up, Mike.

  “It’s best you all stay together,” my mother murmurs, but her words are pretty powerful. She’s making the case that we’re a true family unit—and families stick together.

  There’s silence around the table as everyone considers that. My parents probably don’t understand why this is an issue while Sam very much wants us to stay together. Leighton… well, fuck… I have no clue what’s going on in her head.

  She’s the one who breaks the spell of possibility my mom had posited. “Like I said… we’ll stay close. But August and I are merely co-parents, so I’m sure he’s anxious to get his life back, just as I am. Hopefully, I’ll be able to land a job soon, then we all can settle into a good routine.”

  This starts a conversation between my mom and Leighton about the type of job she’s looking for, and I immediately tune them out.

  I’m pissed. I don’t like this idea of hers to run out and get an apartment—not one bit. I don’t like the thought of Sam bouncing between houses. And fuck if I can’t figure out why, but I don’t like the idea of Mike returning to Denver either, which clearly means something since we’ve had a rocky road back to friendship.

  Tonight, when I get Leighton alone in my room, we’re going to have this out and make some decisions. I’ll get her to focus on what’s best for Sam, which should do the trick. She’s centered her entire life around his well-being, so a reminder that he’s our priority should do the trick to get her to stay.

  CHAPTER 24

  Leighton

  “This is a great split layout,” the realtor says as she shows us the fourth apartment of the morning. “Two bedrooms on one side with a shared bathroom, and a master suite on the other. And the price isn’t much more than the two bedroom we just looked at.”

  My dad and I exchange a look. I want a three-bedroom because I want him to stay, but he thinks I only need a two-bedroom because he’s still leaning toward returning to Denver. When he doesn’t automatically discount this place, I take heart.

  “Or we could go see a few houses for rent,” the realtor adds. “All three-bedroom, two-bath homes with garage spaces as well.”

  I shake my head, giving her a polite smile. “We want to stick with an apartment for now. Not ready to take on yard maintenance at this point.”

  This is especially true if my dad returns to Denver. Even though Sam is approaching the age where he could help with outside chores, it’s just not something he’ll be able to take on at this time. I’d rather do a year in an apartment, and then—if I have a good-enough job—maybe we could consider moving to a house. Perhaps even get a dog.

  My dad and the realtor start talking about the difference in the cost of utilities between the two and three-bedroom apartments, and I move into the master suite. I’d give this room to my father if he stayed, and I’d share the other side with Sam.

  Of course, if August had anything to do with the decision, we’d be a permanent addition to his household.

  Last night, we had quite the talk about it.

  It did not end well.

  I’d expected him, of course. Knew he’d do that soft-knock-on-the-door thing and want me to come to his room after Sam fell asleep.

  His expression when I’d declined had been priceless. We’d stood at the door with it opened just a few inches while we had a heated, whispered exchange.

  “I am not going to have sex with you,” I’d asserted in the softest voice I could manage while still being heard. “Not with your parents just across the hall. Just… no.”

  His expression had turned all mischievous and sly. “Panties in the mouth. Remember? No worries.”

  “No, August,” I’d maintained. The immediate frown I got assured me that he was taking me seriously.

  “Well, I still need to talk to you about something important,” he’d said. “So put on a robe and come to my room.”

  I’d just stared with one eyebrow raised in complete suspicion.

  He growled. “I swear… just to talk. Now come on.”

  Ultimately, I put on my robe and went to his room. He’d been sitting on the edge of the bed when I walked in, and I closed the door behind me so we could talk in normal voices.

  He’d perused my body with something close to yearning regret over the fact I wasn’t going to give in to him tonight, but he maintained a respectful distance. Crossing his arms over his chest, he said, “There’s no reason for you to go look at apartments tomorrow. You and Sam can stay here.”

  I was immediately pissed. How he’d missed the sa
rcasm in my voice was beyond me. I’d replied, “Oh, we can, can we? That’s very generous.”

  “Not really,” he said with a shrug. “I mean… there’s plenty of room, and I make more than enough money to support us all.”

  “I don’t need your support,” I’d replied. I think it was the flatness of my voice that alerted him that perhaps he’d started off on a bad foot.

  August rose, standing before me. Hands to my shoulders, he’d bent in close. “I didn’t mean it like that. I know you’re more than capable. You’ve proven that. But I’m just thinking about what’s best for Sam. You know he wants to stay here. He likes us all being together.”

  “I know he does,” I’d stiffly admitted. And I found it abysmal he would play the “Sam Card”.

  Regardless of the fact I was clearly not happy with the direction of the conversation, he plowed on. “You’re the mother who always does what’s best for Sam… and it’s best everyone stays here.”

  I’d merely folded my arms over my chest, dislodging his hands. “It’s true,” I’d said somberly. “I have always done what’s best for Sam, often putting my own happiness aside. But, in this instance, I think I’m going to take myself into consideration for once. I don’t believe staying here would be the best idea. There’s no way in hell I’m going to be separated from Sam, though, so I’m going to get my own place. I’ll make sure it’s close by for convenience sake. Sam is going to live with me, but you can visit him as much as you want. He can stay the night with you whenever he wants. That’s what is best for all of us.”

  “How can you even say that?” August had replied, his voice laced with anger and disbelief. “You have a good deal going on here.”

  I still can’t believe he’d said that.

  I’d been speechless for a moment, gaping, until I’d suddenly overflowed with words. “A good deal?” I’d hissed.