Steele: Into Your Heart (Carolina Bad Boys #3 (13 page)

I lowered my face, my lips on hers. “Me too. Don’t want to anymore.”

I pulled her to me, kissing her with the deepest burning need. Every touch singed my skin, made me hotter and wilder. I got her to the couch and lay on top of her.

She ran one hand down my chest and straight into my pants. As her palm settled around my dick, I groaned. “Not doin’ this if you just want my cock.”

“What if I want it all?” She pulled her fist up to the head of my cock and squeezed.

I jetted into her fist just like that, exploding before I could draw a breath. “Christ! Christ!”

Shuddering up and down my body, I leaned on top of her. She kept rubbing me, stroking. She used my come as the slippery stuff lubing her two-handed, dick-stiffening motion.

“Want to get inside of you.” I popped the buttons on her shorts.

Ashe rolled her hips as my fingers eased inside. The blonde trail, the firm clit, the so-wet pussy sliding against my fingers.

“All of me.” Fuck, I couldn’t believe I was hard again.

I wrestled Ashe out of her shorts and panties and spanked her pink wet pussy.

Her tummy contracted. Her hips rocked up.

“Like that?” I asked.

“
Yessss
!”

I was kissing my way up the inside of her thigh when the front door banged open.

“Mom? I’m home!”

Ashe dislodged me with a rushed gasp, “Oh, shit.”

No shit.

Score

I SCRAMBLED WITH MY pants, facing away from the entry and, holy freakin’ shit on a stick, Ashe’s daughter. It took a ten-count to get my erection under control. For extra precaution I pulled the hem of my shirt low. Meeting the daughter I wasn’t supposed to meet with a wet spot showing would be seriously uncool.

Ashe’s cheeks glowed pretty and pink—of course that could’ve been from anger just as much as desire. Her eyes shined, probably as pinwheely as mine. She’d zipped and buttoned up everything, including her lips as she glared at me. So, we’d go with anger then.

Warm come in my jeans was cold comfort, but I grinned back at her. Her worst fears and my best hope about to become reality. Like I didn’t have game with kids.

Cara slammed inside, cleats on her feet and sweatbands on her wrists. She pulled to a stop when she saw me standing next to her mom.

Totally normal, wasn’t about to screw your mom on the couch in your living room, not even looking at her like that. Nope, not at all.

“Uhhh . . .” Ashe stuttered, flustered. I liked it. “This is Brodie.”

I held out my hand to the girl, the one that hadn’t been down Ashe’s shorts. “Nice to meet you.”

Cara shook my hand and squinted at me with the same shrewd look her mom gave me, swishing her blonde ponytail over her shoulder. “Are you the guy who’s gotten Mom all kinds of crazy lately?”

Huge props to Cara.

“No,” Ashe said in a go-to-your-room-voice.

“Yes,” I said with a shit-eating grin. I liked the daughter already. Yep. We were gonna be best buds.

Ashe recovered quickly. “How was practice?” She tweaked Cara’s ponytail.

“Awesome. I scored three goals.” Cara gave her mom a high five then looked expectantly at me.

I slapped her hand and gave her an even bigger smile.

“I’m gonna go clean up before dinner. ’Kay?” Toeing off her sneakers, Cara plucked at her sweaty shirt. Bounding up the stairs, the pre-tween gave me two thumbs up.

“Practicing what?” I asked Ashe when we were alone.

“Soccer. It’s her passion.”

“Not boys yet?”

“No, thank God. Boys are trouble.” She looked me up and down before she headed to the kitchen.

I followed, catching her around the waist as she leaned into the fridge. “Not always.”

“I beg to differ.” Ashe leaned against me with a gasp.

Trailing a line of kisses down her neck, I caressed her taut belly beneath her shirt.

“Not now, Brodie.” She wriggled free.

“No worries. I get it.” I put my hands up in front of me.

A cleaned-up Cara swooped into the kitchen. “Is Brodie staying for dinner?”

“
Ahhh
.” I gave a non-answer.

“Cool. I’ll set the table for three.” The girl made me feel right at home just like that.

I was pretty sure Ashe had plans to push me out the front door with her foot planted up my ass. Her long groan didn’t escape me, but Cara went along with her dinner-for-three plan, humming as she set the table.

Making my way to the john, I cleaned up the mess inside my jeans as best I could and washed my hands and face. Peering into the mirror, I whispered, “Don’t fuck this up.”

Back in the kitchen I helped Ashe at the stove. I kept the contact totally above board, off her rack, and I didn’t even kiss her once. I diced and sliced while she cooked. We drank from two tall glasses of water. Cara provided the background chatter, and Ashe answered every one of her questions while multitasking the stove and sink.

A mere thirty minutes later, a complete family meal steamed from the plates on the table.

Cara pulled out a chair. “Sit by my mom.”

I like the girl more and more.

I made sure Ashe took her seat before me and pushed her in at the table.

Steak, salad, baby potatoes . . . all the good stuff and not zero-calorie salad dressing but full-fat, chunky blue cheese cholesterol-heaven.

Medium rare strip steak. My favorite. I tucked in then almost choked when Cara asked, “Are you her boyfriend?”

“No,” Ashe said, using that you’re-so-grounded voice.

“
Uhhh
. . .” I did the stammering thing.

Cara drained her milk and wiped the white mustache from her upper lip. “Cool. Thought so. She needs one. She’s lonely.”

There was a small shuffle under the table, and I thought maybe Ashe had kicked at Cara, but she didn’t seem like the type for corporal punishment unless she was in uniform and doing it on me in the very best way possible.

Cara apparently didn’t
give two shits at any rate, and neither did I as she prattled on about her day. Good food, good company, a good family, and a woman I really wanted to spend more time with sat beside me. I dug in while Ashe glared so hard she must’ve thought she was Medusa.

Guess what? I didn’t turn into stone.

Afterward, Cara cleared the table before scooting upstairs. Ashe rinsed the plates, and I loaded the dishwasher. We’d washed away our alcohol buzz with lots of water, and I’d called a cab to take me home. All that was left was the simple real truth. One I said to Ashe once she walked me outside.

“I’m not fucking around with you, and just so you know, I’m not fucking anyone else either.”

“Ever the romantic, Brodie.”

“Gimme a chance, lady. I can be, for you.” I pulled Ashe into my arms.

I guided her chin up and angled her just the way I wanted. She whimpered softly just before my lips touched hers. Soft and slow and the barest sweep of my mouth on hers.

“G’night, babe.”

She watched me walk away, and I threw back, “Hey, Cara’s sweet. And you’re a good mom, a good woman.”

“You’re a good man, but I can’t . . . ”

She could. She definitely could
.

I paced back to Ashe. I kissed her long and hard, pressing her against the door until she was hopefully as stupid and infatuated as me.

“You don’t have to do anything. I get it, babe. Just call me if you need me,” I rasped.

She looped her fingers into my jeans to keep me against her.

Oh yeah.

I wanted to do her. I really did. But not unless she was into me all the way. “Not fast. Not easy. Get this: I have more respect for you than that.”

“Where the hell did all this respect come from?” she called as I loped down the steps for the second time.

“Getting to know you between Myrtle Beach and now.” My feet hit the driveway and I turned to smile. “Call me.”

****

It was only two days later when I received The Call.

I stared at my phone that pulsated with the “I Shot The Sheriff” ringtone I’d programmed for Ashe.
Oh, helllooo.
She’d never called me before. Pulled me over?
Yes.
Fucked me ten ways to Sunday.
Yes.
Called me?
Nada.

I answered after the fourth ring. “Yo.”

“I’m running late. You said to call. Can you pick Cara up from soccer?” A harried-sounding Ashe rushed her words.

“So now you need me?” I yawned loudly enough for her to hear me, but I was already heading for the door with my keys in hand.

“Brodie, please. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t in a tight spot.”

I chuckled as I unlocked my truck. “You. Tight spot. And
please
. Just a few of my favorite words. By the way, you never have to beg unless we’re in the sack. I’m already in my truck. Text me the directions.”

“You’re a godsend.”

“Never heard that one before.”

That Monday afternoon in late June I rolled up to the soccer fields at Patriot’s Point with Tucker and Tail cruising right behind me on their roaring motorcycles. Hey, I brought the badass cheerleaders with me.

All the blonde-highlighted PTA heads swung in our direction as we swaggered to the chain-link fence.

I nodded at the ladies. “It’s cool. Cara Kingston is with us.”

Tuck elbowed me in the ribs. “Which one is she now?”

I pointed Cara out. Her legs pumped like pistons as she zigzagged down the field. “Number seventeen. Blonde ponytail.”

“GO GIRL!” Tuck belted out as Cara raced toward the goalie, pulling Brazilian-style soccer moves left and right.

She shoots and scores!!!

My guys banged on the fence and probably made obscene gestures.

So I wasn’t PTA material, but that didn’t stop the hot little MILF numbers from taking second and third looks.

Gotcha, don’t want ya. There’s only one MILF I’m after.

Cara cleaned the motherfucking turf like Ronaldo—forget about bend-it-like-Beckham. She had skills, thrills, and some serious talent.

Boosh!

Another Cara Kingston goal and her team went hog wild while we practically bent the fence in two and whoop-hollered.

Cara’s team won by a mile, and no shit about that. She met me off to the side, kicking one heel of her muddy cleats against the toe of the other. “You came to watch me?”

“I’d buy a season ticket if I could.” I shouldered her gym bag.

Tuck waddled over, Tail grinning beside him.

“You brought motorcycle dudes too?”

“You think your mom will care?”

“Nah. She likes you, Brodie.”

And Cara gets another gold star.

Tail shoved his long black hair back. “Pro moves you got there.”

“My mom says women can do anything men can do.” She proudly grinned.

Sounds like Ashe
.

I led the way to the parking lot as Tuck said, “Does that mean NFL next?”

“No. They’re wussies. They wear too many pads.”

That got a laugh out of all of us.

Cara kept talking and only stopped when she got a gander at Tuck and Tail’s Harleys.

Her eyes wide, she gushed, “So cool! Can I get a ride home on one of those?”

“Absolutely . . .
not
.” I held her elbow, guiding her away as my guys gunned out of the parking lot, leaving a dust cloud in their wake. “I’m pretty sure your mom would shoot me in the butt with her Glock if I took you out on my bike, or any bike, without her permission.”

“Bummer.”

“Your truck awaits.” I led her over to my ’83 Chevy low-rider, shiny black in the midday sun.

“Oh my God! It’s freakin’ cool!”

“I do a lot of tinkering on it.”

“Wicked awesome.”

She climbed inside, I started the ignition, and my Chevy was louder than Tuck and Tail’s bikes combined.

A couple miles down the road, Cara asked, “So, are you with my mom or what?”

“‘Or what’ and you’ll have to ask your mom about that.”

She snorted and did the eye roll combo with it. “Right.”

My thoughts exactly.

Cara looked at me. “I think it’s cool if you are. She’s always
soooo
super paranoid about being there for everything for me. First time she’s chilled out is with you. She needs someone else.”

“How old are you again?”

Just then Cara tuned the radio to the local pop-rock station.
Oh yeah, she’s eight.

Ashe pulled into her drive—in the Volvo wagon—right after we arrived. I helped Cara out of my truck and then her mom from the mommy wagon. I couldn’t help but smirk. Just a little.

Ashe stared at me as she leaned against the closed door of her soccer mom car. Perfect. I moved in closer.

“Hey, Mom! Thanks for the ride, Brodie. Yup. I’ll be inside.” Cara cleared out quick.

Good kid.

Ashe’s head notched back when I bent over to kiss her. Her lips softened, her mouth parted, she moaned when our tongues touched. Her hands wandered way south to settle on my ass.

I grinded my cock against her for a moment before releasing her.

Her eyes had turned a warm, hazy gray color. I drew my thumb along her jaw and settled my hand on the nape of her neck.

“Thank you for getting Cara for me.”

I shrugged. “No big. I brought some of the guys too. I think they placed bets on her team.”

She let her head fall to my shoulder as she giggled. “You’re impossible.”

“I tell the truth.” Wrapping my arms around her waist, I rocked into her. “
Mmm.
You feel good.”

“You too.” Ashe wiggled closer.

“You usually late? ’Cause I can help out. Not like I need to punch a clock at Chrome and Steele if I don’t want to.”

“I’m usually on time, but . . .” She looked up with a blush and a smile. “I got a promotion today, had to take care of the paperwork and stuff.”

“A promotion?”