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I wasn’t sure which way was up when I was done, but in the end, I laid my head back against the couch as she collapsed against my chest.
Our breathing grew regular, and my chest cooled when she removed her body heat. I opened my eyes and found her staring at me with a strange expression on her face. She was studying my tattoos, but the real surprise was that she looked kind of happy.
Her eyes lifted to mine, but she didn’t say a word.
“Is this the part where you kick me out?” I asked.
The corner of her mouth tilted up. “Tempting, but no.”
“Then, what are you thinking?”
She squeezed her pussy around my shaft and smiled. “Wanna go again?”
My dick jumped at the thought as I groaned, but I needed another minute.
I kissed her and whispered, “Calzone.”
13
Dominick
The next morning,I went to the park to meet Spencer with a smile on my face as memories of last night still ran through my head.
My brother and I met up to play basketball a few times a month as long as the weather was above fifty degrees. And since summer was right around the corner, Spencer and I were trying to start up our old routine.
I arrived before my brother, and since I was the one who brought the basketball, I shot some hoops while I was waiting for him to get there. But it wasn’t long before I realized he was running really late. He was a teenager, so I didn’t expect him to show up on time, but fifteen minutes had passed.
I checked my phone. He hadn’t called or texted, so I rang him, a little annoyed that he’d forgotten about me or that he was too careless to let me know he wasn’t coming. But his cell went straight to voice mail, which didn’t sit well with me. Spencer was sixteen years old. Healwayshad his phone on.
I called him again, just to make sure that it wasn’t a glitch, and headed for my car. I could go home and wait for him to get ahold of me, or I could keep trying to call him. But my gut told me something might be seriously wrong, so I did the one thing I absolutely hated to do.
I pulled out of the parking lot and headed for my mom’s place.
* * *
I pounded on the front door of my mother’s trailer home. Even though it was late morning, there was a strong chance she wouldn’t be awake. It all depended on how much she’d drunk last night and how late she’d stayed up.
Just as I was raising my fist again, the door swung open, and the woman who’d birthed me stood on the other side. She was only fifty-five years old, but she looked like she was eighty.
She had to squint in the bright sunlight, but once she realized it was me, she scowled. “What d’ya want?” she croaked, her voice harsh from her smoking at least a pack of cigarettes a day since she had been a teenager.
“Where’s Spencer?”
“How the fuck would I know?”
“Because he’s your son.”
“He’s sixteen.”
I wasn’t in the mood to argue with her.
“Listen, he’s not answering his phone, and since this is hishomeand you are hismother, he should either be here or you should know where he is.”
It was taking everything in me not to reach out and shake her. She wouldn’t let Spencer live with me, but she sure as shit didn’t care if he was okay or not.
“Let the kid in, Marjorie,” a masculine voice said from inside the trailer.
She scoffed but opened the door farther to let me in. “He hasn’t been a kid in a long time.”
