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It hadn't been an easy upbringing for us, but having one another made it tolerable. Even, at times, enjoyable.
Like on those Saturday mornings when we were sure our aunt wasn't going to come back, so we cranked up music she wouldn't have approved of—which was practically anything other than Christian music—and danced around the house, shouting the lyrics as we did our chores.
"Alright. So what I am hearing here is," Eva said, pursing her lips, that you actually know how to clean. I was starting to think your gender as a whole are just incapable of understanding the concept. Do you know how many times I have shown Jacob where his shoes go, but they always somehow end up in the middle of the floor for me to trip over? Speaking of him, I should probably go see if he's up yet."
I didn't want to let her go.
But I knew if we stayed in that bed much longer, I would forget all about wanting to take it slow with her, roll her under me, drive her up, then bury myself inside her.
So, I released her hand, and let my arm drop from her waist.
She planted her thigh on the other side of my body, straddling me. A small gasp escaped her when my hard cock glided against her pussy, her thighs tightening at my sides.
"Another time, babe," I assured her when I saw the mix of emotions crossing her face. The desire and the uncertainty and the regret.
"Yeah," she agreed, giving me a small smile as she got off of me and the bed, straightening her clothes, fluffing her hair a bit, then making her way toward the door, peeking out. "They're not going to bite, babe," I told her, folding up in the bed. "I will be right out," I added, getting up to go into the bathroom.
By the time I convinced my cock to calm down, and brushed my teeth, and made my way out into the common area, several of the guys were hanging around.
Huck, Fallon, Laz, and Brooks.
"Your woman made us coffee," Huck declared, toasting me with his mug.
"Jacob in the kitchen too?" I asked.
"Jacob?" Huck repeated.
"Tyler said he was out back," Lazarus said. "That's probably them," he added when someone pulled open the back door.
And in they walked.
Tyler, yeah, who I barely noticed.
But Jacob too.
Jacob who looked fucking exhausted.
His eyes were puffy, sunken, lined with bags.
Like he hadn't slept at all.
Or at least, not enough.
But that made no sense.
He'd been on the couch passed out when I had taken Eva to my room.
If he'd had gotten up, someone would have told us.
"There you are," Eva said, coming up at my side, handing me a coffee, but looking at her son. "You look tired. Bad dreams?" she asked, mom-mode in full force.
I couldn't tell her that I had a strange feeling, that there was something niggling at the recesses of my mind.
I couldn't explain it to myself, so how could I tell her about it?
"Ah, yeah, kinda," Jacob agreed.
She'd raised a shitty liar. Which, I guessed, was a good thing. Jelena was a terrible liar too. I always figured it was her own sense of right and wrong that made her so terrible at it.
Eva seemed to pick up on the false note, but didn't call him out on it. I figured maybe she didn't want to out him on having nightmares at his age around a bunch of rough and tough sort of men. It would be embarrassing.
"You hungry?" she asked. "I was thinking about making the guys some breakfast as a thank you for letting us crash here last night."
"Yeah," Jacob said, giving her a nod.
"Alright. Is everyone eating? I know," she said when their faces all lit up, "stupid question. Men are always hungry, aren't you? Okay. Let me go see what I can do."
"You want to, ah, watch cartoons or something?" Huck asked, clearly at a loss around anyone younger than him.
"I'm fourteen," Jacob shot back.
"Shit, man. I dunno. Cinemax then?" he asked, getting a chuckle out of Fallon, Laz, and Brooks.
Huck tossed the remote toward Jacob, hopped off the couch so he could sit, and moved over toward me.
"So, is she a good cook?" he asked, sounding as eager as a kid on Christmas Eve. I couldn't imagine he lived the kind of lifestyle that allowed for home-cooked meals.
"I have no idea," I admitted.
"Her kid is skinny," he observed as though that might be proof that she was a terrible cook.
"Hard to fuck up breakfast, I said, shrugging.
"Hey, what the fuck?" Fallon's voice exploded suddenly, making both Huck and I look over, following his gaze toward where he was glaring at Jacob. Who was looking at something shiny in his hands.
"What?" I asked, confused.
"Where the fuck did you get that?" Fallon raged, standing, towering over Jacob, everything about him tight, tense.
