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How About No

Page 22

   


He looked up from his paper when he heard me approach, and grinned.
“Thought for sure you’d sleep until noon since you only went to bed about four hours ago,” he murmured as I walked up and took the seat beside him.
I snorted. “It doesn’t matter what I do. I’m always up by four-thirty. I guess I have an internal alarm. I have to be to the daycare by six, and if I don’t get up early, then I won’t have time to get any housework done. Sometimes I catch a bug and workout, but those times are few and far between. Mostly I sit there like you’re doing, read the newspaper and drink coffee until I feel human enough to do something.”
He grunted. “Sounds about right. Go get you some coffee. Read the funnies.”
He slapped the ‘funnies’ down in front of me and I stood back up to do his bidding, happy to feel that my hand was doing much better today than it had yesterday. I barely had a throb when I put pressure against it now—though my hand had been numb since I’d woken up.
Coffee in hand, I retook my seat and started scanning over the comics.
We sat like that in companionable silence for what felt like forever but ended up being more like thirty minutes.
As he finished with a section of his paper, he’d lay it down in a stack next to my elbow, and I’d pick it up once I was finished with the one he’d previously handed me.
It continued like that until he finally set the last section down and waited for me to finish.
Since it wasn’t my town, I skimmed a few of the articles, but ultimately put it down a whole lot faster than I would have if we were home. I did stop to scan the “ask the editor” section, smiling when I saw a letter about how there needed to be more news articles and fewer articles about unimportant “shit” that nobody cared about.
“Why does that letter sound like something one of your boys would write?” I teased.
One of his “boys” referenced the men in his motorcycle club, The Dixie Wardens.
My eyes lifted to find Porter staring at me, studying my face.
“Probably because it was,” he laughed. “Dixie’s tired of reading about fake news. He wants the cold hard facts, and the paper is trying to cater—like it should—to both political parties.”
I hummed in assent as I folded the paper back the way it’d been and laid it in the finished stack.
“You had a lot to say last night,” he murmured. “Do you still feel like that in the light of day?”
I felt my heart start to pound. “Feel like what?”
He grinned slightly. “Do you remember talking to me while Wade and Minnie got the coffee and cookies last night?”
I did. Bits and pieces anyway.
“Some,” I admitted.
“You remember mentioning that you were scared?”
I blinked. “No.”
“You said you were scared of what life was going to bring now that you were once again married to Wade,” he reminded me. “You also said that his job scared the crap out of you. That you wanted his babies and couldn’t give them to him, and also that you were fairly sure that once he knew the real you, he’d leave.”
I pressed the heels of my hands to my face as I groaned. “I’m not sure any of that was true.”
Lies. All lies.
“Sometimes the things people say when they’re drunk, and their brain isn’t able to control their filter, are the truest things that have ever been said,” he explained. “And I do think you’re scared. You have a right to be scared. But I also think that it was the dumbest thing in the world for Wade to allow you to leave and not fight the divorce.”
I dropped my hands and stared at him. “Wade let me go because he was forced to.”
He snorted in derision. “That’s the biggest load of crap ever. He wanted you more than he wanted his next breath. He feels for you like I feel for Minnie. And let me tell you something. I once gave Minnie up because I thought it’d be better for her to be sad than to be married to a fella like me who would only bring her down. But then we were both miserable as hell. What is the point of staying apart when you’re happier together?”
I pressed my lips tightly shut.
“Don’t think I don’t know that you still love him,” Porter said. “Y’all have tried the being apart thing—and for what? You are both miserable. Y’all both still love each other. The things that you fought over are in the past. You need him just like he needs you. He may need you more now than he ever needed you before, though.”
His leg.
He was talking about the possibility of Wade losing his leg.
“He’s never needed me, Porter,” I explained softly. “It was always me doing the leaning, not the other way around.”
“And that, girl, is where you’re wrong.” He stood up and grabbed for his coffee cup. “My boy’s needed you since the moment that you came on to his radar, and you just didn’t know it.”
With that, he walked inside, leaving me alone to my own thoughts.
I shivered as a particularly sharp breeze rolled over the open field that Porter and Minnie built their house on.
Standing myself, I walked back inside the pool house and closed the door—a little too hard.
Wade lifted his sleepy face from the pillow the moment I shut it, and he frowned. “You okay?”
No, I wasn’t okay.
I walked over to the bed and stared at Wade’s sleep-creased face and wondered if I was making the worst mistake of my life.
“Landry?”
I put a knee on the bed, then leaned over his big body, staring at him long and hard until I finally came to a decision.
“When we get home, I need you to give me a couple of days to think,” I said softly.
His eyebrows lowered as if he wasn’t happy with that possibility.
“And right now?” he growled.
“It’s impossible to think with you around,” I told him honestly.
He chuckled softly.
Then I gasped when he grabbed me by the hips and pulled me down roughly.
“Then right now you won’t mind if I do this?”
No. I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind at all.
My mouth opened, and I marveled in the fact that he was able to find what he was aiming for without consciously trying.
“How’d you know I didn’t have panties on?” I asked roughly.
He’d filled me in one thrust.
Everything inside of me was tight in anticipation.
My pussy was filled to bursting, things stretched that should’ve been loosened beforehand, and honestly, it felt like being on the verge of pain.
Yet…I wanted it.
I needed it.
He skimmed his hands up the t-shirt, stopping when he found my breasts.
I sat up and let him play with my nipples, sitting still on his cock.
Likely he was trying to give me time to adjust, and normally I’d be thankful.
This time, I wanted it to hurt.
“Wade, I need…” I rasped.
And suddenly I found myself on my back with Wade’s big body hovering over mine.
My hands went to his shoulder blades as he roughly yanked my legs up, practically shoving them to my chest.
Then he was powering into me, taking me so hard and fast that I couldn’t think.
“God, baby,” he growled, his mouth slanting over mine to take me with a rough, soul-searing kiss. “You take my breath away.”
I refrained from saying my usual “that’s because you’re doing some high-quality cardio” quick-witted reply when he used to take me this hard and fast. But my brain was being scrambled, and I couldn’t open my mouth to breathe, let alone supply a coherent response.
My neck stretched as I ground my head into the bed.
The pillows around my face were suffocating me, but I was willing to trade a little brain damage for the orgasm that I could feel was about to overtake me.
The only thing that could be heard in the room was our heavy breathing and the slap-slap of his pelvis connecting with mine.
His balls were also slapping against my asshole with each rough thrust, and it was rendering me unable to think.
Hell, everything about the man had always done that.