KEPT: A Second Chance Fairy Tale (36 page)

“Fuck,” I hiss, bending down and giving her my weight. “
Fuck
.” I release into her without warning.

She does this to me. She’s completely undone me without so much as trying.

Her body starts to tense as her climax comes. “Relax, Lucy,” I tell her, continuing to drive in and out. “Relax. Feel this.”

Reaching up, she moves both arms over my shoulders and pulls me closely to her. It’s taking all my upper body strength not to crush her under my weight.

“Don’t stop. Please, for the love of God, don’t stop,” she chants in my ear.

Hearing her so enraptured, I don’t stop moving. Her hot, slick center is taking all of me again and again. Once she finds where she wants to be, Lucy doesn’t let go quietly. She fucking screams.

And I’ve never seen or heard anything like it. Ever.

“Oh, my god. Seriously,” she breathes, finally letting me go enough that I can sit up to relieve her body of the weight of my own. She kisses me hard. “You totally just spanked me.”

Smiling down at her, I try not to laugh. I’m still buried deep and if she laughs, I’ll feel it. “I did.”

“I’m a sicko, aren’t I?”

Now I do laugh, only slightly. “No, Lucy.” I kiss her nose before she’s able to hide her face. My hands reach for hers and pin them above her head. Holding her wrists there, I say, “You’re not a sicko.”

“Thank you,” she replies.

“You’re a little loud, though. Christ, my ears still burn.”

Gasping, she returns, “Don’t tell me that. You’ll make me self-conscious.”

Pulling out of her, I stand and take her with me. “Get up. We’ll get dressed. Then you’re going to let me say what I need to say.”

“Right,” she complies. “You’re always talking. I liked my plan better.”

Lucy

“H
OW LONG HAVE YOU KNOWN?”
I voice my matter-of-fact question tersely so he clearly knows I’m not happy.

Michael just explained
how
he knows about the evil queen’s attempts to take Dillon away. Now I want to know
when
he first knew. It took all of one minute to lose my shit, then the tears of embarrassment started to fall shortly after.

“Does it matter how long I’ve known?” he asks quietly. “Jane Gilroy has already done some of the footwork, and I think–”

“What?” Surely, he didn’t just allude that someone I’ve met only once is working on something so personal. “What did you say?”

Michael tightens his arms around my waist. When we finished cleaning up and made our way to the living room, he put me on his lap, which I found peculiar, so we could have this talk. Too late, I realized it was because he’d already mentally tallied my reaction. And his assessment was right.

Not only am I disappointed, I’m also far from relieved to have the help.

“Listen to me,” he placates, wrapping his hand around my neck and forcing me to look at him. “I’ve known Jane Gilroy a long time. She’s been in this business longer than I’ve been studying it. She’s got a reputation for shredding her opponents in court. She’s a rabid dog with a bone with this kind of shit.”

“I don’t know her,” I explain. “I was going to…” The truth is, I’ve done nothing. I’ve avoided all of this by merely wishing it away. It’s childish, I know, but I’ve been holding onto my life by a string since Gabe died and it fell on me to handle.

“One more thing,” he says softly. In the dim light of his living room, I note his heavy apprehension. “Corbin’s aware of this, too. He’s as pissed as I am.”

Sitting up and pushing his hands off me, I move to stand. The t-shirt he gave me twenty minutes ago hangs mid-thigh. The open neck of it reaches my chest, so not only do I feel exposed emotionally, I’m physically open.

I cover my chest with my arms and adamantly state, “No one’s helping me. I’ll do this on my own.”

Michael’s voice grows tight. In a low warning tone, he replies, “Jane
will
help you do this. It’s already been decided.”

“No.” I shake my head. “This isn’t you and Corbin giving me a car, Michael. This is my life. I want a say.”

“And you’ll have it. When we meet with her, you can say whatever you’d like.”

He’s not listening.

I’ve done everything right since Gabe died. I’ve taken care of Dillon, kept him safe and happy. I’ve paid my bills on time, even while working a job that wore me to the bone. I’ve not been in a relationship with a man since my husband died. I’ve given up everything I thought my life would be…until now. I’m not giving up any more.

All thoughts of Michael and Corbin meddling leave my mind as I picture what could happen if Margret got her wish. When it came to me, she was relentless while I was married to her son, but now that she blames me for his death, she’ll be impossible to get rid of.

Leaving Michael alone on the couch, I walk to the center of the room so he’s no longer touching me. I can’t think clearly when he’s so close. “I’ll meet with her.”

“Good,” he exhales in an audible breath. “I’ll go with you if you’ll let me.”

Still half-pissed about his scheming, but relieved he’s paved the way for help, I say, “I’ve met Jane. From what little I know of her, I like her. I’ll call her Monday.”

Standing up, but remaining cautious, Michael closes the distance between us and looks down. “You’ll see her tomorrow night. You can set something up then.”

“Okay.”

Michael’s lip curves up on one side, the brightness in his eyes evidence he’s happy with himself. “Now, can we sleep? You’ve exhausted me.”

Yes. Totally happy with himself.

Michael

“I
’M HERE NOW, DENI. I
need to go.”

My sister is still chirping into the phone. She’s giving me an unwelcome play-by-play of our mother’s latest antics. From what I understand, Kat Ingles is on the cusp of finding a man of the cloth to marry Lucy and me in a quiet ceremony at our church back home. I’ve hardly spoken to her since I left, yet the woman is making plans like I called and told her I’d asked Lucy to marry me.

“I’m telling you, Michael. Damage control. You need to talk to her, and soon. She’s considering the wedding date!” she exclaims. “I hate to say this, but I’m almost happy she’s focusing on you rather than me for once.”

I believe that.

“How’s Jane doing with Lucy’s monster-in-law?” she questions.

I’d almost forgotten I told her. After finally telling Lucy that Corbin and I knew what was going on, I’ve done nothing but think how she’ll take the news when she finds out about her husband and all I’ve done in keeping her the way I have since he passed.

“Nothing will come of it, but it’s moving forward. Lucy agreed to talk to Jane.”

“This is good.”

“With any luck, Jane’s clients will soon be part of Mercer Law, as will Jane.”

Deni breathes a sigh of what I deem is relief. “You deserve everything, Michael. Even if you don’t believe it, you deserve to be happy.”

“One thing at a time, Deni. I gotta go. I’m at Lucy’s now.”

Without listening to my second attempt to cut her loose, she presses, “What do Lillie and Corbin have to say about you two anyway?”

“They don’t know.”

“What? How’s that?”

“Jesus, Deni. Can I go? You’re making me late.”

“Are you wearing a tux?” she asks, but I don’t answer. Instead, I disconnect.

“Would you like me to go get her or shall I wait here, Mr. Holden?” Marcus inquires, scanning my face in the rearview mirror.

“I’ll grab her,” I reply before opening my door to start making my way to Lucy’s.

Dillon’s bike is parked next to her chair. Her neighbor, Stella, has her front window open. Going by what Corbin told me about her sweet, but nosy neighbor, it’s highly likely she’s been anticipating my arrival. I find I’m right when her curtains move to the side and the little woman, smiling wide and wearing a robe, knowingly waves.

I wave back before knocking.

“It’s about time you got here!” Lucy breathes out, grabbing my hand and pulling me inside. “The back of my dress is twisted. Oh god, I’m a mess.”

No, she isn’t.

“She’s a mess,” Dillon concurs from the couch as I walk into her apartment and take notice of the state it’s in. He turns in the direction of the door, getting on his knees and leaning over the back of the couch. “Where are you going?”

“I told you, buddy,” Lucy answers. “To a dance.”

He looks at his mother momentarily, taking in the same dress I can’t stop looking at. “You’re gonna dance in that?” he questions, pointing directly at her. “When you dance around the house, you do it crazy.”

“Dillon,” she snaps.

“You spin and stuff. Your arms go like this.” He raises his hands over his head and moves them around.

I hide my amusement. Lucy rushes to him, then bends to get in his face. I hear whispering before he goes quiet, still smiling.

“Well, you do,” he mumbles before turning around and looking back at the television.

Lucy turns, finally giving me a good look at her from the front. The black dress she’s wearing isn’t what captures my attention. Her legs are bare, naked in every sense, as the skirt fits tightly against her thighs. Sheer, lace material flows in the back and along her sides. Though beautiful, the dress isn’t the attraction. It’s her fucking shoes I can’t tear my eyes from.

“You’re wearing those later,” I choke out, trying to hold my composure in front of a child. “Jesus Christ.”

The high-heeled silver stilettos fit her perfectly, and not only in the physical sense. They shine in the dim light of her living room, and also add four inches to her frame. I’m feeling not so unlike a teenager, being as I can’t get the image of taking her here and now out of my head.

If only we were alone…

I walk past her and into the living room.

“How’s it going?” I ask Dillon, standing at his side and leaning my hip into the couch.

He turns and, rather than answer, states, “I asked Mom when you could take me to another game.”

Baseball’s gotten to him. Good.

I remember being his age and liking all sports, but baseball was always my favorite. If we’re able to go, it won’t be the seats we had before, but judging by Dillon’s reaction, it’s fair to say he won’t mind.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I reply.

“Mom says since I cleaned my room, I can stay up late and finish watching the game.”

“Nice.”

When he finally gets his mind on something else other than the game, he takes a closer look at what I’m wearing.

“Are you dancing tonight, too?”

“No,” I respond emphatically, and I’m not. I don’t dance.

He eyes me with suspicion before getting up and walking to a bag across the room. He grabs it and heads to Lucy, who’s messing with her dress.

“Be good. Don’t give Stella a hard time,” she scolds before he has a chance to say goodbye.

I remember this as a kid, as well. I always wondered why everyone thought I was up to no good. Even if it were true.

“See you tomorrow, Dillon,” I say, as she bends to hug him close.

Lucy finishes telling him the rules for tonight, then stands on the porch and watches him make his way to Stella’s.

I hear the click of the front door and turn around to see her standing there, alone. “You look…amazing,” she whispers. “I should change. Wear something else.”

God, but the woman is confusing. “
What
?”

“You look…” She points up and down as I stand in a typical, but tailored, tux. “I don’t come close.”

“Lucy,” I whisper. My head tilts to the side as I think of ways to reason with her. “When I said you’re wearing those later, I meant to say you’ll be wearing those and nothing else.”

I bite my tongue to avoid saying more as the visualization strikes her.

“Oh.”

“You look stunning.”

And she does.

Her hair is up and off her shoulders, a few soft curls hanging down. The top of her black dress covers the front of her completely. Had she not rushed me in here like she did, I could’ve gotten a better look at the back.

“Help me?” she asks, turning around as though reading my mind. “The bottom is twisted, I think. The silver–”

“Stop talking,” I hiss. Once fully seeing what the back looks like, I frown to myself. “Christ, she’s going to incite a riot.”