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I lick my lips, my eyes fixed on his.
“With you on your knees, just like that, I may blow with your mouth on me,” he says, his tone rough and needy.
“We can’t have that. I want to taste you.” Placing my lips over the tip of his cock, I slide my tongue through his slit. A hint of salty and manly goodness has me taking more of him. He’s a big man, all of him. It’s impossible to take it all, but with every little bit more, a groan of desire from my man surges through my pulsating core.
His fingers rake through my hair, lifting it off my face. Our eyes never waver from one another’s. My mouth feels the throbbing of his cock. Thunder tugs on my head as a warning, but I stay fast to my task, wanting to swallow him down. An amazing spectacle unfolds in front of me when Thunder roars his release. His eyes close for a split second, but then his gaze holds mine, his expression sated and warm.
Thunder drags me upward, then turns us so I’m lying beneath him on the sofa. He presses himself into me and buries his face in my neck. “In ten or twenty minutes, I’m going to return the favor, then I’m going to spend the rest of the night showing you how much I love you.”
* * *
Thunder did just that until the early morning, when we finally fell asleep in each other’s arms, only to be awoken by the incessant ringing of his cell phone.
“Shit!” I hear from my man. I turn on the bedside lamp to see him staring at the phone screen.
“Who is it?” I mumble, unable to keep the sleepiness out of my voice.
“My mother,” he grumbles.
Well, damn! This is a first! Not only does Thunder rarely speak of his family, never in all the time I’ve known him has he spoken to his parents in my presence.
The ringing stops, with Thunder still looking down at his phone, only to start again seconds later.
“Are you going to answer, baby?” I urge gently. His finger hits the green button, and he grumbles a simple “Hello” into the phone.
I can’t make out what’s being said, but the high-pitched frantic sounds of a woman on the other end are going on and on in Thunder’s ear. He lets her rant, offering an occasional “Uh-huh,” “Got it,” and ends with “See you soon.”
He grips the phone with his fist so hard, I’m surprised it doesn’t crumble. Thunder looks at me and says, “I gotta go back. My father had a heart attack last night. He didn’t make it. My mother wants me home for the funeral.” He doesn’t sound sad or broken. He sounds cold and empty.
I lean into him, my head on his shoulder. He tilts his head to that side, pressing it to my temple. “I’m sorry, baby.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. I hardly knew the man,” he says. His words may sound cold, but I know he’s hurting.
“I’ll start packing,” I murmur. As I begin to move away, he pulls me back, hugging me close. This is his way of grieving. No words, but needing to feel me close. I give him what he needs and wait for him to let me go.
As I pack, he calls Guard to advise him of the situation and to let him know we’ll be gone for a few days. “I’m going for the funeral, then home,” he says matter-of-factly. I’m not sure what Guard is saying on the other end, but Thunder concedes when I hear him say, “Fine. We’ll wait for Hammer.” He pauses to listen once more before thanking him and hanging up. Thunder turns to me. “Hammer’s coming. Orion’s booking tickets for the early morning flight at six.”
He sounds funny, and I don’t know what to do for him, so I do the only thing I know how. I go to him, sit on his lap, and love him. I hold on tight, his arms flexing around my waist, and there it comes, the wave of pent-up anger and sadness rolling into an explosion of tears from my giant of a man.
* * *
Guard
Istare down from the top of the hill at the funeral going on below for Aaron Roger Donally. Thunder stands next to his mother in a tailored black suit and dark sunglasses, her arm through his on one side and Rose on his other side, their hands entwined. Hammer is next to Rose, keeping a close eye on his brother.
There are a lot of people, but from what Hammer told me on our last call, Thunder doesn’t know any of them. His mother didn’t call him for comfort, but because it wouldn’t look good if their only son and child wasn’t present at his father’s funeral. Thunder gave his mother what she wanted, as he’s done for all of us.
Thunder does that for the people he loves, whether they love him back or not. He’s set his boundaries with his parents, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel for them. That separation is self-preservation.
Ava takes my hand as she stands by my side. My woman understands what the Pride truly means. Not just about the club, but the tie that binds us. Thunder must be sensing our presence and his gaze finds us on the hill. We’re all there: Orion and Vi, War and Maddie, Risk and Hanna, Saint and Izzy, Ghost and Abby, Demon and Sofia, Steady and Camille, Priest and Quinn, leaving behind Wildcard and Charli with Roscoe and Willow to look after our kids.
I put my hand on my heart, and the others follow suit. Thunder responds with the same motion. He knows that family isn’t those who gave you life, but those who fill your life with joy.
* * *
Aweek later…
With the barbecue in full swing, it’s my and Thunder’s turn at the grill to give Rose and Saint a break.
