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“Now come home. We’ve got something else we got to take care of. Together.”
“What’s that?” I asked, my heart still fluttering like a schoolgirl.
He reached in his back pocket and handed me a stack of papers. “We found him. We found Bo. He’s been living with me at the house for a while. Doc, I don’t want him to have the same life as me. I see me in him and I think we can still save him. Just got to get his useless mama to sign these.”
Application for Adoption of Minor Child was the heading.
I leapt into his arms and nodded. Tears spilled down my face. “So what do you say, Doc?” He asked. “You wanna be my baby mama?”
I scrunched up my face like I had to think about it. “Are you going to keep me this time?”
Preppy smiled from ear to ear. “Yeah, Doc. And I’m never fucking letting you go,” Preppy said. He reached behind him and took off his shirt in that way that only men can do. I gasped when he leaned over to the nightstand and flicked on the lamp.
“Wow,” I said. When I noticed Preppy’s muscles under his shirt it was nothing compared to seeing them tight and perfect without his shirt. And although his ridiculous body had me foaming at the mouth that wasn’t what I was staring at. The wound on his side. The one from the gunshot. The one that healed wonky and left a criss crossing of scars across his torso had been tattooed over by a large intricate colorful piece that had me in tears all over again. Red lips. Glasses. Pencil skirt. Even the bow tie heels Mirna had given me. “It’s me,” I gasped.
“So you gonna answer me or just lay there drooling?” he asked with a wink. “You coming home?”
“Yes. I’m coming home,” I said and the warmth on Preppy’s face was enough to melt away and fears or doubts I might have had.
“Good, now we can get to the part where we fuck,” he said, and his mouth came down over mine.
“Wait, where are we going to live? Mirna’s house already sold. I sent the keys down months ago,” I said.
“More fucking, less talking,” Preppy said, tossing me onto the bed.
Who was I to argue?
He didn’t waste any time, hooking my booty shorts and panties and dragging them off my legs, tossing them to the side. Without hesitation he pushed my thighs apart and dove in. The second his tongue made contact with my clit I moaned long low and LOUD.
“I missed this beautiful pussy,” he said against me, the vibrations of his words mixed with the circular tongue motion was bringing me closer and closer to the edge.
I was about to come, I could feel it right there, just a few more long strokes of Preppy’s talented tongue and I... heard my dad come in from his bowling league game. “Andrea?” He called out, but Preppy didn’t stop. Not only did he not stop he pushed a long thick finger into my ass and I squealed. He reached up and covered my breast with his hand, pinching hard on my nipple. “Are you home? Bowling sucked. We lost to that group of women in their eighties again. I’m pretty sure we’re going to be last again this year.”
“Answer the man,” Preppy said against my folds. He pulled out his finger only to push it back in.
“I’m here dad. I’m just...really tired so I’m just going to go to bed early,” I shouted back. Preppy thrust his tongue inside me and I arched my back.
“Yeah, I’m beat too, see you in the morning,” he said, I heard his door close and the second it clicked Preppy increased his efforts, relentlessly fucking my pussy with his tongue and my ass with his finger until I grabbed a pillow, smashed it over my own face, and screamed out my orgasm into goose down.
It was Preppy who eventually took the pillow off my face. “Thought you were suffocating under there,” he laughed.
“You’re such a shit,” I said.
He settled between my legs and pushed his entire massive length inside of me in one quick thrust. I was about to scream out again but he put two fingers in my mouth. “Bite down on me if you need to, but don’t make a sound, Doc,” Preppy said wickedly.
At first he built a slow rhythm again reaching behind me and pushing a finger into my ass which heightened everything his cock was doing in my pussy. He was making it impossible not to scream so I did what he said and I bit down on his hand. “That’s it, bite me. Show me how much you want to scream.”
I bit down harder and he responded by thrusting even harder. I was so wound up that when he bent down and bit my nipple I was already coming, the pleasure so great I was lost to anything but me and Preppy and the greatest fucking orgasm.
Preppy pulled out, coming in long hot streams of white over my neck and tits, claiming me, marking me, making me his.
Keeping me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
DRE
It was a good thing I was wearing a seatbelt because if I hadn’t been strapped down in the back seat I would’ve hit my head on the exposed metal roof of Billy’s van at least a dozen times as we navigated down the pothole infested street.
I put my arm across Bo’s shoulders and held him tighter to me. His own seatbelt might have been buckled but they were made for people of a certain size, not age. Bo might have been six years old but his belt was doing jack to actually keep him safe.
“He needs a booster seat,” I pointed out, trying to distract myself from anything other than where we were headed or the task at hand. For that moment it was transportation safety.
Preppy was in the passenger seat. He turned around and eyed the loose belt around Bo’s waist. “On it,” he said, pulling out his phone and quickly tapping on the keys. “Ray says she has an extra.”
Bo took that moment to smile up at me. I could feel his nervousness radiating off of him almost as much as I could feel my own. I saw it in the way his eyes shifted from object to object in the van like he was trying to find something to focus on yet when he smiled up at me it was if he were trying to comfort me, instead of the other way around.
Which was good, because I needed it.
My guts were twisting over and over again. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat as I wrung out my sweaty hands on my lap. The uneasy feeling only getting worse as we turned from the bumpy road into an even bumpier one past the rusted sign falling from the post that told us we were entering the trailer park.
From the back seat I could see Preppy’s entire body go completely stiff as we rolled past one dilapidated trailer after another.
Junk was piled high in front of almost every site. A middle aged couple stood in the middle of the road between a section of four trailers parked at angled facing one another. They didn’t budge when they saw us coming so Billy turned the wheel and maneuvered around them. The man was shirtless, wearing nothing but light colored jeans that were folded open at the fly as he chugged from a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag. He flicked us off as we passed. The woman, who was w
earing a stained lavender tank top and a pair of cotton underwear, scowled although I wasn’t sure if it was meant for us or the man she was arguing with. When we’d passed them by I continued to watch out the back window. The man had turned his back on the woman and that’s when she leapt onto him, wrapping her arms and legs around him tightly and screaming in a high pitch tone that made me grateful the windows were rolled up. The bottle fell from the man’s hand and rolled across the street as he stumbled for balance, it was the last I saw of them before we rounded the corner and they disappeared from view.
Bo was looking out the window as well although he seemed unfazed by the couple. It was when we turned that he reached for my hand and squeezed tightly, his little fingernails pressing down hard into the skin of my palm. He leaned against me and snuggled his face into my arm as he weren’t cutting off my circulation where our hands were joined.
He could squeeze as hard as he wanted. I took a deep breath. I wasn’t going to pull away.
Not then.
Not ever.
I had silently questioned why Billy was tagging along with us until we pulled up to our destination, a dimly lit trailer in the back of the park, and it dawned on me that Billy must have been there to keep an eye on Bo because there was no fucking way he was going to come inside with us. I wasn’t going to ever let him back inside that thing.
Ever.
