Coming Home to the Mountain: Complete Edition

8. Tallie

CHAPTER 8

Tallie

H andsome, kind, and he can eat me out like that?

I want him to pop the question right now.

And I’m only half joking.

My body aches with the intensity of the orgasm that I’m dealing with, my heart beating a million beats per minute.

Graham rises from between my legs, licking his lips. The way he’s looking at me, I know we’re far from done, and despite just having had the best orgasm of my life, I can’t wait for what’s next.

Both of us are good and properly naked as well as warmed up, and he wastes little time in clamoring up onto me, kissing me on the lips again and looking me deeply in the eyes. I can see into his soul, and what I see is complete dedication and passion for me.

He runs his hand through my hair but I only shake my head. “Stop fucking around and fuck me, Graham.”

“If that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get.”

His cock throbs between my legs, already hard again despite me sucking him dry earlier. He runs it across my mound, tickling my sex slightly as he slides it down my slit. The head of his cock tickles my pussy lips as they part, and just as I commanded, he doesn’t fuck around. He pushes in, and goddamn, it feels good as he slides into me, inch by inch, the fire spreading through me so delightful and intense.

Our tryst starts slow, but it doesn’t take long to gain some speed as he realizes I can take a little more than a perfectly dainty approach. I like it a little rough even, to be completely honest.

And the more and more I get to know him, I can say I like it Rough too.

“What are you giggling about?” he asks, a smile on his face.

“I’m not allowed to giggle when I’m happy?” I say, covering for my cheesy mental wordplay.

“Giggle away then, Tallie. I didn’t say I hated it.”

He keeps on, rocking my body with each and every thrust, and soon I meet his rhythm with my own. My hands run up and down his firm back, enjoying his muscles, and his tight ass. Bucking to meet his intensity, my entire body sways with him, everything building between us. Our friction, my chest against his, it’s all a delightful symphony of sex and I can’t help but wonder if this is about to become my new normal.

It all builds to a fervent pace as I’m moaning for him, and he only intensifies it by bringing a hand between us to rub my clit with the strong and steady motion. It elevates what’s already great into something even more incredible. A pleasant surprise on top of a pleasant surprise.

Which is turning out to be Graham Rough in a nutshell, pretty much.

I’m fully enthralled by him. Driven to please him as he’s pleasing me. It’s becoming difficult to keep up with him, but he keeps pushing me to new heights, hooking my leg so he can fuck me deeper, fuck me harder, give me just a little more pleasure.

But I’m only human… I can only take so much.

It’s not long before he pushes me over the edge, and I’m moaning for him, my entire body throbbing with need and lust. The searing bliss pulses through me and I let it radiate, in no rush to interrupt a good thing.

Hearing me come must be all he needs, because soon Graham pulls out and erupts all over me, making a mess of my chest and stomach, a steady sprinkling of hot seed dribbling over my flesh.

I start to giggle again when I come down from my orgasmic screaming.

He collapses next to me, looking at me with loving and dedicated eyes, and all I can manage is to match his gaze. He breaks it with a laugh of his own. “Let me go get you a washcloth, gorgeous.”

He does so, but I’d be happy to wear his cum like a badge of honor.

That night I fall asleep in his arms. It’s the first time in what feels like forever that I finally sleep well.

“This Marcus Anderson was physically abusive to your late sister?”

It’s the next morning, and Graham used his pull at the Home PD to get some wheels turning for me in regards to the legal guardianship of Lucy.

We are side by side, sitting across from a judge in a conference room, a decidedly non-courtroom setting, but I guess nothing is ever like it is on TV.

I nod. “Yes. Emotionally and verbally abusive too, but I don’t know if that’s relevant.”

“It is, but physical abuse tends to be given the greatest weight in these sorts of cases, regardless of how damaging the other types of abuse can be.”

“I’m still worried. Doesn’t a biological father have greater say than an aunt over a child with a deceased mother?”

“Typically? Yes. Judgments of custody and guardianship favor direct parenthood over assumed forms. But if it’s proven that the child would suffer under the care of the biological parent, awarding guardianship to an aunt, uncle, or grandparent is hardly unheard of.”

“Don’t the violent crimes he has on record help?” Graham adds. “The database shows he’s done time for armed robbery.”

“He has, yes. He’s even currently on probation. It’s enough for me to award temporary guardianship to Tallie. Until it’s challenged, you’re in the clear. In the meantime, I suggest you show yourself to be a fine example of parenthood. Be attentive to the child’s needs, and prove that you can keep her housed and fed.”

The last part stung me. If it wasn’t for Graham’s generosity, I’d be able to do none of that. Strictly speaking, I’m a homeless woman with nothing to her name but the clothes on her back.

“That won’t be a problem,” Graham says. “She’s been staying with me since Lucy’s mother passed and it looks like she’s going to keep staying with me.”

I feel a little flustered with him saying that. It all seems so sudden, so quick.

The judge smiles. “Then she’s in good hands, Graham. I’ll do what I can on my end to make sure everything goes smoothly legally. Keep your noses clean, both of you.”

“You know me, judge. I’m going to burst into some wild crime spree any day now,” he says with a laugh.”

“Thank you,” I say, shaking the judge’s hand as Graham and I stand up.

Side by side, we walk out of the courthouse. Lemon was taking another shift of babysitting duty while we were out doing this. She seems to have taken a liking to my niece.

“Getting a bit hungry,” Graham says.

“Well then, should we...”

Before I even finish my sentence, we’re met by another couple on the sidewalk.

“Abby and Bart, how the hell are you two doing?” Graham says with enthusiasm.

The other couple are a bit surprised to see us, but it’s clear they’re together from their body language. The guy resembles Graham way too much not to be his brother.

“Didn’t expect to run into you today, Graham,” Bart says. “I thought you’d be out doing search and rescue stuff in Hobson.”

“That’s how I met Tallie here.” Graham throws an arm over my shoulder and pulls me close. “We were just pondering lunch. How about the four of us head over to the Home Cookin’ Diner? My treat.”

The other couple exchanges glances, silently checking in with each other before the woman speaks up. “Sure, that sounds good to us.”

We head over to the diner, and the staff gives Graham, Bart and Abby familiar glances. It’s pretty clear that the Rough family are regulars here.

“Love this place,” Graham says as we all sit down at a booth. “Old-fashioned as hell, but it’s not coasting on its history. It still makes some damn good food.”

“Dunno, always feels a bit weird when Mom and Dad reminds us that this is where they really hit it off,” Bart adds. “Thinking of them being all lovey-dovey here is a bit awkward.”

“Then you gotta feel awkward at home too. Mom and Dad are lovey-dovey everywhere.”

“True.”

The menus come out and we place our orders. Bartlett gets a burger, Abby gets the soup of the day. Graham gets a big bowl of chili and I go for the chicken parm.

“So, Tallie, are you a Hobson native?” Abby asks over our food.

I nod. “Lived there my whole life. I grew up there with my sister.”

Her face sinks. “Sorry, didn’t mean to remind you of that.”

“Not your fault.”

There’s an awkwardness about talking to them. As if Bartlett and Abby are holding back.

I need a moment. “Pardon me, time for a trip to the ladies’ room,” I say, jumping up and heading into the bathroom.

Another half-truth, I guess. What I really want is a moment to look into the mirror.

Wondering where all of this is going.

Last night with Graham was fantastic. It felt so wonderful that it pains me to think that it may only be temporary.

He told the judge Lucy and I are staying with him, but his generosity can’t last forever, can it? He’s successful, has connections, he’s everything I’m not.

I’m just some homeless girl with no prospects who’s desperately clinging to a baby she can’t possibly take care of. Unless I win the lottery or something, I’m wholly dependent on handouts and that’s not a good place to be.

I’m not giving up. I know what extreme neglect Lucy will face if she falls into Marcus’s hands. But I feel so hopeless in this moment.

After washing myself up a little, I head back, only to hear the three of them talking. My nosiness gets the better of me, and I press myself against the wall, hoping I won’t be seen or heard.

“You sure about this, man?” Bart says.

“Sure about what?” Graham replies.

“What you’re doing with this girl.”

“What do you mean?”

“Graham, we know you’re lonely,” Abby chimes in. “We know you want to do the right thing. But don’t you think you’re giving a bit much to some girl you barely know?”

“What business is it of yours what I do?”

“I’m just concerned for my brother is all,” Bart adds.

“And I’m concerned about a poor girl and her child.”

“Yeah, but you don’t need to invite her to stay in your house and go through all this for her. You could be taking a much more hands-off approach and still help, Graham.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. You could have gotten her a hotel room. Hook her up with some more formal support. You know there’s a bunch of state programs for disaster relief.”

“Those are hell to get through, Bart. And she needs help now.”

“Look, Graham,” Abby again interjects. “We’re just worried about you getting attached. Or her taking advantage of you.”

Graham snaps back. “Taking advantage of me? What the hell are you implying?”

“I don’t know! That’s poor wording, maybe, but there’s something irrational about how you’re acting, and as family, I think it’s our role to keep you in check and stop you from doing something potentially stupid.”

I shudder at those words. Graham has never once done anything to make me feel like I’m a leech on him. When I’m alone with him, I can tell that my concerns are all in my head, but the fear is strong. What if this being pointed out is all he needs to realize that I’m not worthy of him? That he deserves a much more balanced relationship, with someone who has something to give in return for all his kindness?

“I’m really surprised at you two,” Graham says. “I’d think that you, Bart, more than anyone else, would realize that there’s a damn good reason to go out of your way to do anything for a girl. And I thought you’d empathize with her, Abby.”

“Wait, are you suggesting…?” Bartlett asks, trailing off.

“Yes, I’m suggesting just that. I think I’m in love with this girl, brother.”

A chill rolls down my spine.

Love?