“Never thought I’d be happy seeing one of my girls with a man like you, but I have to say I’m pretty darn thrilled.”
Staring at him, I do it for a long time. I never believed myself to be a good man, or even a good person, but having Maggie’s father’s approval means something more than he will ever know. “Thanks,” I mutter and he shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Is everything okay?” Maggie asks, walking up to us, hand-in-hand with her mom.
“Everything’s fine. You okay, Maisy?” Monroe asks his wife, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
“It will be,” she whispers, repeating his earlier statement while leaning into his side.
Looking down at Maggie, I place my hand against the side of her neck, pulling her closer to me, and ask, “Are you ready to go home?”
Her face goes soft and she nods then looks at her parents. “Thank you for coming with me today,” she tells her mom and dad, wrapping her arm around the back of my waist, dropping her temple to my chest.
“We love you and your sister, MoonPie,” Maisy says softly, taking Maggie’s hand in hers, giving it a squeeze. “We’re just sorry we weren’t here for you two before now,” she says and I can see the regret in her eyes.
“We’ll be here from now on,” Monroe, states pulling in a deep breath. Watching him with his eyes soft on Maggie I vow to hold him to that declaration.
Chapter 9
Maggie
Bullets don’t stop bossy
Shouting, “Are you almost ready?” toward the bathroom, I walk across the bedroom to the closet while zipping up the back of my tight black pencil skirt.
“I still think you should stay home.”
My hand pauses on my top hanging on a hook near the closet, and I look over my shoulder at Sven, who is leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his bare chest.
“I’m not staying home. I’ve been gone for two days, and yesterday we took care of my family stuff, which means for two days, I haven’t been to the club. And although you keep things organized, you don’t always make sure everything that needs to be ordered is ordered,” I tell him, watching his eyes narrow in a way that proves I’m right, even if he’ll never admit it.
“Would you ever consider moving?”
Caught off-guard by his question, I ask, “What?” while taking my sheer, dark pink blouse off the hanger and slipping it on over my thin cami.
“Would you ever consider moving somewhere else?” he asks when I turn to face him, buttoning the buttons of my shirt.
“Somewhere else, like where?” I ask, studying him and wondering where this is coming from.
“Tennessee?”
“Where you grew up?” I prompt. He’s talked about his hometown a lot, and about the family he grew up with, and I know he misses them, even if he doesn’t say it.
“Yeah.” He nods, uncrossing his arms and pushing away from the door.
“Do you want to move?” I question as he gets closer, and then start backing up when his eyes drop to my fingers working the buttons over my breasts then darken. “Stay back. I need to get ready.” I hold out a hand, hoping to keep him at bay.
“I think I should just keep you tied to the bed,” he mutters, trapping my hand between us as my back hits the wall, and his hands wrap around my waist and slide back over my ass, pulling my hips into his.
Whispering, “That’s not going to happen,” I bite my lip as his mouth travels down my throat. Resting my hands on his shoulders, I push. “Sven.”
“I’m right here, baby.”
“We have to leave for work,” I moan as his hand slides down my hip, up my thigh, and under my skirt, and as he pushes the lace of my panties to the side, his fingers zero in on my clit with such accuracy that my hips buck.
“You may have forgotten, but I’m the boss.” He nips my ear. “Promise if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you keep your job.” His lips travel down my neck and my eyes slide closed.
Running my hands up his neck into his hair, my fingers tangle with the strands and I pull back until his eyes meet mine.
“We really need to—” Words lodge in my throat as two thick fingers enter me and his mouth crashes down on mine. Thrusting his tongue into my mouth, his thumb circles my clit and his fingers work faster until I’m riding his hand.
“Give it to me,” he demands against my mouth, and I do.
My core convulses, sucking his fingers deeper as I orgasm hard, my eyes slide closed, my head falls back against the wall, and my body turns liquid.
“One taste,” he whispers, pulling back, and his hands bunch my skirt up over my hips and he drops to his knees in front of me. Looking down the length of my body, I watch him press his nose into the juncture between my thighs then he rips my panties to the side and his tongue comes out, lapping at my folds. Watching his eyes close, my head falls back against the wall once more. There is nothing better than him touching me, nothing better than seeing him enjoy my body.
“Sven,” I whisper, grabbing onto the top of his head so I don’t fall over when his tongue moves rapidly against my clit and his thumbs spread me open. I’m close, so close. Rising up on my tiptoes, the feeling of his mouth on me starts to overwhelm me. Hearing a loud smack sound in the quiet room, my eyes fly open and my core convulses as the sting of his hand settles into the skin of my thigh. Tilting my head back down toward him, our eyes lock and he smacks me once more, this time harder, the sting and the look in his eyes sending me into an orgasm that has my body lighting up from the inside out, every cell detonating at the same time, sending me into the stratosphere. I don’t even realize it’s me making the whimpering noises I hear until I recognize that Sven is shushing me as he holds me in his lap on the floor. Opening my eyes, I try to catch my breath then bury my face against his neck as tears fill my eyes.
“Don’t cry,” he whispers into my ear as his hand moves over my back in a soothing motion.
“I don’t know why I’m crying.” I sniff, wiping my face with the back of my hand as I cling to him with the other.
“You’ve had a lot happen in the last few days.” He kisses the top of my head once more then pulls my forehead out of his neck and his eyes scan my face.
“I’m okay,” I whisper, and his head tilts slightly, like he’s saying ‘Yeah right.’ “I promise. It was just a really good orgasm,” I tell him, and he smiles his beautiful smile then rests his lips against my forehead.
“All you have to do is tell me and we’ll leave work early,” he says gently against the skin above my brow.
“I’ll be fine.”
“I know, but I want you to be more than fine, and if I have to hold you hostage in bed for another day to make sure that’s so, then that’s what I’ll do.”
“Sven,” I sigh, closing my eyes.
His hand in my hair at the back of my head tugs gently, and my eyes open back up to meet his concerned ones. “You need rest. The club’ll be fine.”
“You just don’t want me to be there,” I mutter, and he shakes his head.
“I don’t want you there after what happened, but I know that’s not realistic.”
“I—”
“I don’t want you sick,” he cuts me off before I can get any words out. “You can fight me on this all you want, but you need rest.”
“What’s really going on?” I ask, running my fingers down his jaw. “Why the question about moving?”
He moves to help me stand then stands with me and leads me to the bed.
“I’ve been thinking about us,” he tells me as he settles me against him on the bed, my body tucked alongside the length of his.
“Like what?”
“The club was good when I didn’t have any responsibilities outside of myself, but with you, and hopefully—one day—kids, I don’t think that’s true anymore,” he states, and my body goes solid against his.
“I thought you loved your club.”
“I do, or I did,” he mutters, l
ooking across the room.
“Sven,” I call, bringing his gaze back to mine, and then rest my hand against his chest over his heart. “You don’t have to change—”
“I know,” he interrupts, running his fingers softly down my cheek. “I just want more. I don’t know what the next few years will bring, but I know that with you in my life, I don’t want to be working the club ‘til all hours off the night.”
“I’m there with you,” I remind him, and his eyes go soft…softer than I have ever seen them.
“If we have a child, you won’t be, and I don’t want to be a part-time parent like my father was.”
“I can understand that, but you love Vegas.”
“I don’t love Vegas. I love you. Vegas is just the place I moved to because it fit the life I was living. Now it doesn’t fit anymore.”
“And Tennessee fits?” I ask, running my hand up the side of his neck, curving my fingers there.
“It’s a good place to raise a family, the people are nice, and the town I grew up in is somewhere I can see my kids growing up. I want that for them. I want them to grow up in a town where people know who you are and care about you. You’re not just one more person to them.”
“You’ve thrown around the family word a lot in the last few minutes,” I tell him.
His brows pull together then he asks, “What?”
“You keep talking about your kids. Are you pregnant?” I ask, and his lips twitch.
“No, but you could be.”
“I’m not.” I shake my head in denial. “You know I had my period.”
“That was last month,” he mutters.
“Okay, there is a slim chance monthly that I could become pregnant, but if you’re doing all of this on the thought of me being pregnant right now, please don’t. Take your time and think about this, and if in the end you want to move, I’ll go with you.”
“This isn’t something I just came up with. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a few months now.”
“We weren’t even together a few months ago.”
“You weren’t in my bed, but there wasn’t a time I didn’t think of you as mine. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”
Feeling my heart grow warm, I lean forward and rest my mouth against his then whisper, “What am I going to do with you?” as tears fill my eyes.
“We’ll have a whole lifetime to figure it out.” He kisses me softly then tucks my face into his neck. I couldn’t fathom this moment a few months ago. I had no idea this kind of relationship, this kind of love, was even possible, but having it now, I know I will do everything within my power to make sure I always have it.
“How do you feel about staying in bed and watching movies today?” I ask quietly, and his body relaxes under mine.
“Is that what you want?” he questions as his hand pauses on my back where it had been moving in soothing strokes.
“Yeah,” I lie. I know he needs a break from everything, and if me staying home so he will stay home gives that break to him, then that’s what I’m going to do.
“Go change and I’ll meet you back here.”
“Okay.” I nod then lean up, pressing my mouth to his jaw before sliding out of bed and going to the closet. When I come back from hanging up the clothes I had on and have changed into one of my old tanks and a pair of baggy pajama bottoms, I find Sven in a pair of basketball shorts with a stack of movies in his hands, heading across the room to the TV. “Do you want anything from the kitchen?”
“A beer.”
Nodding, I head downstairs, grabbing a beer for him and glass of lemonade for myself, along with a bag of Pirate’s Booty to munch on. When I get back up to the bedroom, the curtains are drawn and the room is mostly dark except for the light coming from the TV. Sven is in the bed with his back to the headboard, his chest bare and his ankles crossed, with the remote resting on his abs.
“I called the club. Everything’s okay,” he tells me as his eyes meet mine.
“Did everyone show up tonight?”
“Everyone except you and me.”
“That’s good. You should probably give Zack a bonus for all the extra work he’s been doing,” I tell him as I put my knees in the bed.
“He gets compensated,” he mutters then asks, “Have you seen The Walking Dead?” as I hand him his beer and crawl toward him on my knees, settling myself close to his side.
“No, what is it?”
“A show on TV. I got the DVDs a few months back but haven’t had time to watch them. I figured we could start now.”
“Sure.” I shrug as he wraps his arm around my shoulders and tucks me closer to him.
Five hours later, my eyes are glued to the TV and my brain is in some kind of trance as the episode we were just watching comes to an end.
“Jesus,” Sven mutters, and I turn to look at him.
“I know,” I whisper, even though I’m not sure if that’s a good ‘Jesus’ or a bad one. “This show is awesome. I mean, I feel bad for Rick, obviously, but wow. He’s a total badass.”
“Badass?” he asks with a smirk. “Isn’t that a bad word?”
“No.” I scrunch up my face and roll my eyes.
“God, you’re cute,” he mutters, searching my face, then asks, “You ready for the next episode?”
Looking at the TV then back to him, I inquire, “How many episodes are there?”
“Not sure. I think I have about four DVDs, and each has about 8 episodes.
“You know, you may get your wish.”
“What?” He chuckles, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.
“I won’t be able to do anything until I’ve seen every episode—no work, no eating, no shower…nothing. This show is rendering me useless.”
“I’m sure I can find a way to take your mind off of it.” He smiles.
“I don’t know. Rick is growing on me.”
His eyes go funny, and next thing I know, my back is to the bed and he’s looming over me, and then his mouth is on mine.
Then his mouth is on another—better—place, proving he can definitely take my mind off the show.
Looking over at Sven and seeing he’s asleep, I reach over him, grab the remote for the TV, push pause, and then roll quietly out of bed and head downstairs. We haven’t eaten anything since breakfast, and I don’t think Pirate Booty or each other can be considered a meal. I’m hungry, and I know Sven will be too when he wakes up.
Heading into the kitchen, I open the fridge and scan the contents. There are two large steaks on one of the shelves, along with two giant mushrooms on another. I have never cooked a steak before, but for Sven, I’ll at least try. Going out the back door off the kitchen, I attempt to light the barbeque. After three failed attempts, I try once more then do a little clap when I see the bars along the bottom light up.
Going back inside, I find a pair of new yellow gloves under the sink, the kind of gloves you use to wash dishes in, so I put them on, go back to the fridge, grab the steaks, and cut them out of the plastic wrapper, setting them on a plate. I take off the gloves, search through the cupboard, and find a few seasonings, sprinkling them on the meat. Heading back to the fridge, I grab the two mushrooms, wash them both off along with a few bell peppers, and cut them in half, placing them on a separate plate from the steaks. Done with all my prep work, I take both plates outside, along with the gloves.
“What the hell are you doing?” Looking to my right, I hold the steak in my hand up higher so Sven, who is standing just outside the sliding glass door that leads to the deck off the kitchen, can see, and then lay it on the grill before doing the same with the second one. “The neighbors are going to think you’re nuts,” he mutters as I shut the lid on the barbecue.
“Oh well,” I tell him, pulling off the gloves. “They’ve probably already seen me naked. Me wearing yellow gloves is better than that.”
“Nothing better then you naked, baby.” He smiles, and then his eyes drop to my hands. “Are these really necessary?”
He chuckles as he takes the gloves from me.
“I didn’t want to get blood on my hands.”
“If you would have woken me up, I would have done it.”
“You needed to sleep.”
“I didn’t need to sleep. I fell asleep.”
“Because you were tired,” I point out, walking back into the kitchen, where I take out two baked potatoes from the microwave and cut them out of the plastic surrounding them.
“How long have you been down here?” he asks, leaning back against the counter watching me.
“Not long,” I mutter as I move around him to the fridge and grab the butter, stopping when he grabs me around my waist.
“I could have eaten you for dinner,” he says against my neck as his arms wrap around me.
“Oh,” I moan as his tongue licks up my neck, and then squeak as he lifts me up to the counter. “Dinner is going to burn,” I groan into his mouth as his hands move up my sides under my shirt.
“Let it burn.” He grinds against me, then mutters, “Fuck,” when his phone rings. Stepping back an inch, he pulls his phone out of the pocket of his shorts and looks at the number. “Give me a second,” he mumbles, kissing my forehead and putting his phone to his ear, walking away.
Letting out a breath, I hop off the counter then go to the fridge. I grab a bowl of salad and freeze when I hear Sven in the next room snarl, “You have got to be shitting me.”
Dropping the bowl to the counter, I walk toward the living room, where I hear him tell whoever is on the phone, “I’ll be there in fifteen.” Then he hangs up and looks at me.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, studying the pissed-off look on his face.
“A fire broke out at the club in one of the bathrooms. I gotta head out. The cops and the fire department are there.”
“What?” I gasp.
“I’ll call and explain everything, but I gotta go, baby.”
“I’m coming with you,” I tell him, but he shakes his head.
“Yes, I’m going with you.” Without giving him the chance to argue with me, I run through the house, out the backdoor of the kitchen, turn off the grill, and then run back through to head up the stairs, finding Sven in the bedroom. He’s already dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a grey V-neck tee. Running past him, I go to the closet, grab a pair of jeans, slip off my sweats, and put on the pants while hopping around before slipping my feet into a pair of sandals.