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“Hands on the wall, Lilly.”
I want her naked. I want her tits in my face, in the palm of my hands, want to see them bouncing up and down while she’s riding my dick. But I need this. All the anger I’ve been burying while Chance is awake licks at my insides, seeking a way out. I’m way too pissed to look at her while I fuck her.
“Bend.” I slap her ass when she doesn’t move quick enough. “Give up that pussy.”
For a second, I consider fucking her ass instead, but I go straight for her hot center. Impaling her until I’m balls deep. The sensation paralyzes me for a second.
She grunts and wiggles. Her nails scratch over the wall, an unpleasant sound that jaggedly races down my spine. I place my hands over hers, trapping her fingers.
“This isn’t a friendly fuck, Lilly,” I warn.
She gasps and drops her head as I slowly pull my hips back, then slam into her again.
Her arms tremble from the effort of holding herself up against the wall.
I drop one arm, curling it around her waist, holding her steady. “Poor Lilly,” I whisper against her ear. “Suddenly all full of cock.” I stop, buried deep inside her. “Been waiting almost three fucking years for this.”
“I’m—”
I twist one hand in her hair, pulling her head back. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear it again.”
She squirms, pushes against me. “Please.”
“You want more?”
She whimpers and nods.
I want to strip her down and kiss every fucking inch of her, but I can’t. Instead, I shove inside her body hard and fast. Over and over. Listen to her moans and pants. I want her to fucking remember how good this was and feel like shit for throwing it away.
“Remember that dick, Lilly?” My fingers find a small, hidden zipper under all her hair. Gripping it with my teeth, I drag it down halfway before it sticks. I don’t want to take my other hand off her so I leave the dress alone, only baring her shoulders and some of her back. Not nearly enough.
“Remember this?” I groan against her neck. “Did you miss me at all?”
“Yes. So much.” She whimpers as I slam into her again. “I forgot how fucking big you are, though.”
Dark laughter rumbles out of me. “You can take it.”
I tug on her hair again. “You always loved that big dick in you. Owning your little pussy.”
She gulps and nods quickly.
“I think I’m going to fuck your ass next.” I lift her skirt higher and slowly trace my knuckles down her lower back and stop to squeeze one plump ass cheek. “What do you think of that?”
She freezes, shaking her head. Something is off. Her whole body trembles and not in a good way. “Whatever you want,” she finally answers. This timid, unsure version of Lilly isn’t what I remember. “Go ahead.” She drops her head, her long hair falling over her shoulders, covering her face.
Yeah, that’s not how I want her. Giving in. Giving up. That’s not how I want any of this.
Cursing, I pull out, snap off the rubber and toss it in the small trashcan by her bed.
“Why…why’d you stop?”
“I don’t want a guilt fuck.”
She turns, resting her back against the wall, keeping her hands under her ass. Doesn’t bother fixing her dress where it’s falling off her shoulders. “You said this wasn’t friendly fucking.”
“Angry fucking’s fun. You letting me fuck you out of guilt—not my thing.”
“Z—”
Not wanting to hear another word from her, I storm off into the bathroom, only remembering at the last minute not to slam the door. I consider locking it, but don’t give a fuck if she wants to watch me jerk off.
And that’s exactly what I plan to do. Owning up to how bad I want to fuck Lilly woke my sleeping beast of a cock and now he won’t settle down.
I have way too much pride to accept some shitty guilt-fuck apology. No thanks. I’d rather fuck my hand for the rest of my life than fuck someone who isn’t one-hundred percent into me and what I’m doing to her.
I’m an evil bastard, though. Turned on because I know I left her worked up and unsatisfied.
Yup. As I stand under the hot, stinging spray of the shower, I picture her sprawled out on her bed, frustrated and needy. It’s the perfect image for me to get off to. I come hard, groaning loud enough for her to hear.
And I hate every single second.
Fifteen
Lilly
Z and I haven’t spoken all morning. I’m too chicken to even look in his direction.
Chance was up early. He crawled into bed with me, dragging his stuffed dinosaur and a book along. We read for a while before he asked if Z was still here. As soon as the yes passed my lips, he took off.
As I chased after him, it occurred to me that maybe I spoke too soon. Z had been pissed. Maybe he gave up and went home.
But I should’ve known better. Following to make sure Chance doesn’t hurt himself on the steps up to the loft, I heard Z’s voice greeting Chance.
They did story time and the alphabet together before coming downstairs.
I’m so frazzled, I spill ice all over the kitchen as soon as Z walks in. He runs his cold gaze over me for a second before pulling out the coffee.
Ignoring me completely, he waits while the coffee brews and I finish making my morning green smoothie.
Chance’s little feet pitter-patter over the floor and he tugs at my robe. I hand him his smoothie and he runs back to the dining room.
The weight of Z’s gaze settles on me and I have to force myself to turn away and not give in. Before I know it, his body heat pulses against my back and his hand lands on my hip. “Planning to ignore me all morning, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart. The generic, throw-away endearment he probably uses with every woman. Not pretty girl like he used to call me. Nope, now it’s sweetheart, dripping with sarcasm.
“That’s kind of impossible. And you’re not exactly friendly this morning.” I try to elbow him out of my way, but he slaps his hands against the counter on either side of my body, effectively pinning me in place. Turning in the tight space between us, I face him. He’s breathing hard. His gaze roams over my face and down my neck. “You took care of yourself last night. Why are you so worked up now?” I whisper.
He gives me a crooked smile. “That bother you, sweetheart?”
“No. And stop calling me that.”
“What are you doing to Mommy?” Chance asks.
We both turn and find him scowling up at us. Chance plants his tiny hands against Z’s leg, attempting to push him away from me.
Our little son’s determination to push his father away from me is adorably funny in a messed-up sort of way. Thankfully, Z seems just as amused.
“Can’t I say good morning to your mom?” He hoists Chance up in his arms and Chance immediately reaches for me. I lean in and kiss his cheek but let Z hang onto him.
“You’ve got green stuff all over your face,” Z says, circling a finger in front of Chance’s nose.
My heart squeezes as he carries him to the sink, wets a paper towel, and cleans Chance’s face. Predictably, Chance tries to avoid every swipe. But Z’s patient and persistent.
When he sets Chance down, my son immediately stands in front of me and glares up at Z. Not even the face-washing made him forget what he walked in on.
“So small and already such a fierce little protector.” The approval in his voice helps me relax. Z’s not offended and he doesn’t blame me for Chance’s mistrust. No, he seems oddly proud.
Z squats down in front of Chance and holds out his hand. “Good job looking out for your mom, buddy.” Chance slaps Z’s open palm.
I need to tell Chance who Z is to him, so maybe he won’t feel threatened or whatever is going on here. The sooner the better.
“Wanna go watch cartoons with me?”
Chance studies Z’s face before nodding. “I guess so.”
Z stands and holds out his hand for
Chance. Chance looks up to me and I nod, encouraging him.
“Go ahead. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”
Z
My kid’s pretty fucking awesome. I’ve known grown men who aren’t half as brave. I don’t exactly enjoy him trying to push me away from Lilly as if he’s afraid I’ll hurt her. But truthfully, I was being a bit of a dick. Also true, he loves his mother and his first instinct is to protect her no matter what.
Watching them together is a hot poker between the ribs every damn time. Because I want a piece of it. I want to claim my spot in this family that should have been mine in the first place.
“Breakfast,” Lilly calls.
Chance eagerly scoots off the couch and runs over to the table.
Assuming Lilly planned to let me fend for myself this morning, I head for the kitchen, but she stops me with a hand on my arm and nods to my chair.
“Thanks.”
She even brought out the coffee.
“You don’t have to do this.”
She shrugs and sits next to me.
“You going to the hospital again?” I ask.
