Cocky Secrets (Cocker Brothers #29)

79. Honey Badger

SEVENTY-NINE

Honey Badger

A s she takes off her bonnet and shakes snow onto the porch, I look around and ask, “You own this place?”

“I do now, yes.”

The smile that just vanished tells me there’s a story behind that answer, but I don’t ask for more, because she’s hiding her face now as she unlocks the front door like she doesn’t want to talk about it. Fumbling with the key, she mutters a sound that might have been cussing but she held it back. Funny how a woman so violently passionate in the sack can also seem prudish.

I like puzzles.

I’m interested.

We walk into a small, two-story home that there’s no way she decorated. It looks like a grandma lives here. But then again, I know nothing about Meg, so maybe her taste is floral pastels and plastic over dining room tables, with doilies vomited everywhere. And I mean everywhere. A couple is fine, but the damn things are on every surface. Who the fuck knows? Maybe that’s her thing.

Sucking on my teeth I keep my mouth shut.

She heads for the stairs to the second story. “I’ll just be a few minutes. Do you mind if I quickly shower?”

“Take your time. I’ve got nowhere to be.”

She smiles, liking how I said that. We head in different directions, me scoping out the place, her with delicate footsteps growing quieter by the heartbeat.

The mantel over the fireplace has my full attention because of its photographs. Meg, at various stages in her life, smiles back at me. So fuckin’ cute. Tons of class photos framed, her white teeth beaming in each one, that red hair never the same style in any of ‘em. There’s a picture of her in skis when she’s about twelve, focused on the slope she’s getting ready to attack. One of her at prom with some dickwad. I know he tried to get under that hem at some point. I can see it in his eyes. And there she is holding onto him, none the wiser. Look at that corsage he bought her. It’s puny. Fuckin’ asshole.

These have gotta be her parents, two All-American, peach-faced grinning people. They weren’t smiling as much in this wedding photo. Looks like they warmed up to the idea of being together.

Marriage. Never thought much about it. Not until these last couple years when Jett and Tonk got so damned lucky.

Hoping I’ll be the same.

In the kitchen I find more fluffy shit, and after scanning more photos on the fridge, and the hand-needled calendar, I come to the conclusion that her mother decorated this house. Nothing is new. Not one damn thing. There’s even a tube T.V.

I give up the search for answers, satisfied, and plant myself on the couch, kicking my feet onto the doily-drenched coffee table. It takes me a couple minutes before I look at my dirty boots and take them down, glancing around to see if she saw I was being disrespectful.

At home our feet can go anywhere. Especially up people’s asses if they piss us off.

I grab up a small magazine and check out the title: Readers Digest.

Huh.

Never seen one of these before.

Flipping through it is like time traveling back to the 1950’s. There’s even an ad for cigarettes with a dude in a suit taking a long drag like it’s a good idea. Shaking my head I keep thumbing through abridged stories until I hear Meg’s footsteps coming down the stairs.

Looking to my right I wait until she appears, and then my gut flips over when I see her. She’s in a white, tight-fitting sweater, a brown belt, and her jeans are tucked into sexy brown boots with no heels, since it’s snowing. Her gorgeous red hair flows over her shoulders. Her blue eyes are waiting for me to say something nice.

“Holy shit,” I mutter.

She laughs and walks closer to me, running fingers through her hair with nervous excitement. “I guess that’s good?”

“I was used to seeing you all antique’d out. This…this is…you’re fuckin’ mind-boggling!”

Her smile falters with happy surprise. “Thank you, Antonio.”

Whoa, it was weird to hear my real name falling from her lips. Sexy. Intimate. Like how your friends call you by a nickname, but your lover calls you something just for her.

I stand up, my zipper bulging so badly I have to adjust myself. Her eyebrows dance up. “I’m not apologizing for this,” I grumble, heading for her and pulling her to me. “You light me up.”

She leans in and hovers by my lips. I don’t move – letting her kiss me first turns me on after how she did it before. Her smile becomes sexy and she surprises me by licking the line between my lips. Pleasure storms into my cock. I wrap her hair around my hand, smashing our bodies together by gripping her to me with my other hand while we kiss.

She moans into my mouth and I lose it, tearing the sweater up over her head and freeing her over the top of her bra so I can nibble those saucer nipples she’s got. Small tits and big nips. I’m into it. I’m buyin’ up everything she’s got on her shelves.

She bends back as I devour her breasts one after the other with such slow and methodical tongue massages and teeth nibbling that she starts moaning like she might just cum right here and now.

“I have to fuck you, Meg.”

She moans, “Uh huh,” and locks eyes with me. “After dinner.”

“No,” I growl, palming her ass with one hand and her pussy with the other.

She whimpers as I vibrate the two. “Okay, but just a quick one.”

“I feel like I wanna burst now, so that’s fine by me!”

I said that to make her laugh, but her face went all business and suddenly she’s pulling my sweater off and softly grunting with an urgent need for sex. I help her and she goes for my pants. I go for hers. We’re both kicking our boots off, and it ain’t easy to do with no hands, so we drop at the same time and hit our heads. Grabbing them, we come up laughing, shirtless and pants half open, one boot on each of us. Seeing this, we start laughing harder and when she points at me like she can’t take how funny this is, I grab her and kiss her.

Meg melts in my arms. I break free, cover her lips with my finger, and tell her with my eyes to wait up here. Bending I remove her boots, then my own, then help her out of these hot jeans she’s got on. Her soft fingers slip into my belt line and she wiggles my pants down my legs, leaning over to help me kick ‘em off. She takes my cock in her mouth and licks it a few times, glancing up at me and smiling like she wants to do more but doesn’t know how. I grab her arm and pull her up to kiss me, wrapping one arm around her as I touch her cheek. “I can teach you another time.”

I lift her and she wraps her legs around my hips, smiling at me as I carry her, both of us naked, to the couch. I lay her down and make love to her this time, stroking my cock inside her while we kiss and explore each other’s bodies with gentle fingers. Where we fucked like animals before, we now do it like we can’t believe this has happened to us. There’s a sense of awe every time I slide into her and every time I slide almost all the way out, then bury myself deep again. Her hair is fanned out around her head and she looks like an angel. My angel. My future bride. The mother of my children.

“I missed you,” I rasp into her lips as the orgasm builds.

Her sweet fingers lace into my hair as her back arches. I press my lips into her bared throat and relish the pulsing of her climax as it unleashes with mine. With gritted teeth I feel my cock release inside her. We moan together and grip each other, pressing our hips as close as they can get. When it’s over, Meg melts underneath me and smiles, staring into my eyes.

“You missed me? What do you mean?”

“All the years I didn’t know you I missed you.”

She searches me like I’m not real, and whispers, “I missed you, too.”

Burrowing into her neck I kiss her earlobe and relax.

It’s just the beginning, but it also feels like the end.

The end of loneliness.