The Free Page 12

  “I love that sound, baby. So beautiful.”

  He’s loving me just the way I like, and if I didn’t already have this in my head, I’d strip down for him so he could touch me everywhere. But this is important to me. Reading. I want to know what the words say on television. I want to know what Joey’s T-shirts say or what the words are that sometimes blink on the screen before and after the show.

  “Come on,” he says, slapping my thigh. “Let’s go before I decide to spend the night making you laugh with my nose buried between your legs.”

  I love the grocery store.

  It’s my favorite place ever.

  So. Many. Things.

  There are more jars of peanut butter than I can count!

  Atticus cuts me off at five jars, but I toss in another one when he’s not looking. My husband is patient as we go up and down each aisle, shopping as he calls it. Shopping is wonderful. A few people shoot us curious stares. I notice several women looking at Atticus as though he’s a jar of peanut butter. It makes me want to pull my knife out and tell them to walk away before I make them.

  They’re all so pretty.

  Like Rachel and Phoebe and Monica.

  And I’m…

  My lips aren’t shiny like theirs and my eyelids don’t sparkle. I don’t wear dresses that show my legs. Judith sent one. I tried it on once, but it felt too open. Now, I wonder if open is a good thing. Is that so your husband can shove it up your hips and put his cock inside you when the need arises?

  Maybe I could wear dresses if that’s their purpose.

  A woman with blond hair walks by, her dress swishing. I realize she doesn’t have a husband. She’s alone. And keeps sneaking looks at mine.

  Does she think…that he would…

  No.

  Rage, hot and violent surges through me.

  “Stop looking at my husband or I’ll make you blind like my dog,” I hiss at her.

  “Eve!” Atticus barks, grabbing my bicep and pulling me back.

  “Oh,” the woman croaks. “I’m so sorry. I thought she was your daughter.”

  She rushes off toward the end of the aisle. I relax the moment she turns.

  “What the fuck was that?” he demands, turning me to face him.

  “She thought she could take my husband!” I yell, jerking from his grip.

  He stares at me with wide, horrified eyes. That’s what I thought. She had no right!

  “Listen,” he snarls, stepping close enough that our chests touch. “You can’t blab that shit out in public.” He strokes back a tendril of my hair, tucking it behind my ear. “You know those traps you make for the rabbits?”

  I nod, frowning.

  “They make those for men. But made of metal as strong as your knife blade. If they know, they’ll tell the police I’m fucking you, and then they’ll put me behind those bars. I’ll stay there, baby. Do you understand?”

  Realization dawns on me. “They’ll take you away from me? Why?” I choke back my tears, hating how the loneliness floods inside my chest cavity.

  “Because…” He sighs and drops a quick kiss to my forehead. “Because they won’t understand what we have. You and me, baby, it’s not right.”

  “So I’m supposed to pretend you’re not my husband when we’re around these monsters?” I practically shriek at him, hot tears rolling down my cheeks.

  His nostrils flare and he casts a look over his shoulder. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “But the women will take you from me,” I whisper. “If they don’t know, they’ll think you could be theirs.”

  He pulls me to him for a hard hug. “No one is taking me from you. As long as we play this right in public. Please. Do this one thing for me, baby. I don’t ask for much.”

  “Yes,” I mutter, my voice quivering. “I don’t want to, but I will to keep you safe.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But if a woman tries to take you, I’ll cut her throat.”

  He laughs as he steps back. “My violent little fox. What would I ever do without you here to protect me?” His green eyes dance with amusement.

  Get mauled by hordes of females in the peanut butter aisle apparently.

  “Fuckin’ hell. If it ain’t little Atticus.”

  We both snap our gazes in the direction of an older man and a younger one. I step close to Atticus for protection. I don’t know them and they’re both larger than me, unlike the women. I’m not sure I could take two at once.

  There’s something familiar about them both.

  Green eyes. Green eyes. Green eyes.

  “Will,” Atticus says, his voice tight. “Evan. How the hell are you guys?”

  The older one hugs Atticus and then Atticus playfully hits the younger one in the stomach. The younger one stares at me, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted.

  “Look away,” I warn, my hand going around the hilt of my knife in my pocket.

  The younger man snaps his mouth shut and darts a confused look toward the older one. His cheeks blaze red.

  “Who’s this?” the older one says, no longer playful. He regards me with suspicious eyes.

  “Will, meet Eve. Eve, meet my older brother Will. This is his son Evan.” Atticus gives me a look that begs for me to keep quiet. “Will is a policeman.”

  Police.

  I remember the term from earlier.

  If he knows we’re fucking, they’ll take my husband away.

  “Is she some long lost kid we didn’t know about?” Will asks, his eyes assessing me.

  “Nah, she’s my friend Reed’s daughter,” Atticus lies. “I’m looking after her for him.”

  Will jerks his head his brother’s way. “Is that so?”

  Atticus, always so confident, shifts under his brother’s hard stare.

  “Can I talk to you for a sec?” Will asks, drawing Atticus away by his elbow.

  I’m left with the wandering eyes boy. He stares at the ground, his face bright red. I watch him in case he makes any sudden moves.

  “You like peanut butter, huh?” he asks, gesturing to the basket.

  I flinch at the movement. “Yes.”

  He chances a gaze my way. “You go to school around here?”

  “No.”

  “How old are you?”

  I bristle at the line of questioning. I remember his friend Rex said they were seventeen. If I tell him that age, he might think I’m a suitable wife for him. I have a husband! I want to scream it, but I bite on my bottom lip. For Atticus.

  “Fourteen,” I lie. Sounds far enough from his age maybe he’ll go bother another woman. Maybe the one we just saw.

  “Wow. Fourteen? Really? No way. You’re older than that, right?” He smiles in a shy way. “Pretty, though.” He glances over at where his father is talking to Atticus. “Dad would kill me if I messed around with a fourteen-year-old. I turn eighteen soon.”

  My curiosity gets the better of me. “What happens when you turn eighteen?”

  “I become legal.” His cheeks redden further. “Messing around with some young girl would get me slapped with statutory rape charges. I’m too pretty for prison.” He laughs at his words, but they’re not funny at all.

  “What if I was eighteen too?” I probe.

  He swallows and his eyes widen. “Uh, we could, uh…” He trails off. “Like date and stuff. I could take you out. It would be okay.”

  My mind spins. I should have told Atticus eighteen instead of sixteen. That will fix everything.

  “I’m really eighteen,” I lie. I force a smile.

  “Oh,” he squeaks out. “I, uh, okay. Sure. So you lied to me about your age so I wouldn’t ask you out?”

  I nod. I’m not going anywhere with him.

  He laughs. “I understand. You probably have some hot boyfriend back home, huh?”

  “Husband,” I correct him.

  “Wait…what?”

  “I have a husband and—”

  “Eve,” Atticus says sharply, cutting me off. “
I was just telling the guys we’d catch up with them another time. You ready?”

  We’ve only gone through a few aisles. No way am I ready to go. He must sense my words before I say them because he gives me a firm shake of his head.

  “Fine,” I snap, throwing my hands up in the air just like Rachel does it.

  Will laughs, Evan looks at his feet, and Atticus glares.

  “Typical teenager,” Will says under his breath.

  “Hey now,” Evan grumbles, playfully hitting his father. “I resent that.”

  They walk off in the other direction and Atticus gives me a warning glare.

  “I don’t like your brother.” I lift my chin, daring him to challenge me.

  “That makes two of us.”

  * * *

  * * *

  Holy shit.

  That was a close one.

  And I don’t even know if I avoided it. My brother is a hound dog. Once he gets a sniff of something sketchy, he hunts it down and then dismantles it like a bomb. When he pulled me aside, he drilled me with questions. I lied through my fucking teeth.

  Every time I looked at Eve, I thought how much closer to Evan’s age she looked than mine. It was glaringly obvious. And, fuck, if she didn’t have hickeys all over her neck. Of course Will asked about those too. I lied and said some boy was coming by the house for her.

  We need to get the hell out of here.

  The cashier takes forever, but eventually we get the truck loaded. It’s dark out and snowing again. Before she can climb back into the truck, I grab her hips with my hands and pin her ass to the truck.

  “That was bad,” I growl, resting my forehead to hers. “My brother…he just doesn’t know when to quit.”

  “I should have stabbed him.”

  I laugh, kissing her forehead. “Yeah, you should have. Kidding. He’s my brother. We can’t kill him. I’m just saying he won’t let this go. I lied to him about you.”

  She tilts her head up. “Tell him I’m eighteen.” With her wide brown eyes fixed on me and her plump lips pouted out, she makes me crazy with need.

  “But you’re not eighteen, are you?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Maybe we should get out of town for a little while.” I steal a kiss. “What do you think?”

  “Are there prisons there?”

  My smile becomes wicked. “Not in the wild. We’ll go visit Reed and Devon. Stay for a few weeks.”

  “The thought of seeing them isn’t as frightening as it once was. I think I’m getting used to people now,” she says absently. “Maybe Devon will sing to me.”

  “But she sings so horribly,” I joke.

  Eve stands on her toes and kisses me in a possessive way. It makes me wonder if she saw one of those women again. The thought has me pulling away from our kiss. Making out with my teenage girlfriend slash wife in the parking lot of the Piggly Wiggly where my cop brother may or may not be loitering still is a bad idea.

  “Let’s roll.”

  The drive back home is quiet. Eve is deep in thought. When I finally pull up beside the house, she unbuckles her seat belt and climbs into my lap.

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, you want to visit?”

  She nods. “It’ll keep you safe.”

  So protective, my little fox.

  “I want to keep you safe too. You wouldn’t like it if they took me away. They’d want to put you somewhere that I can guarantee you would hate.”

  “They could try,” she snarls, pulling out her knife.

  I take the knife away and fold it back up before sticking it in her pocket. “You can’t shank everyone.”

  “If they try to keep me from my husband, I will.”

  I close my eyes. I really should have stopped this husband shit. But now we’re two weeks into me allowing it to happen. Because behind closed doors, I get off on it. I love the possessive feeling it evokes in me.

  In public…

  It’s embarrassing.

  Not because of her. Eve is fucking perfect.

  Because of me. I’m a grown ass man. Almost forty, for fuck’s sake. People will see me as a predator. They don’t understand us.

  “Be a good little wife and take my cock out,” I murmur, squeezing her thigh. We’re home, so our little game is good here.

  Her eyes flash with satisfaction that makes my dick hard as stone. She makes quick work of pulling me out. Her small hand wraps around my thickness and strokes me with expert ease.

  “Fuck,” I hiss. “You’re so fucking good at that.”

  She works me up and down with her dry hand. I want wetness and heat. I want her.

  “Take off your clothes.” My words are raspy and harsh.

  Within seconds, she’s ripped away all of her clothes. My tiny, naked wife rubs her pussy up and down along my shaft, her needy juices coating me.

  “Sit on it, baby. Fuck me.”

  Her hand grips my wet dick to guide me into her tight body. We both hiss. I buck my hips up, driving the rest of the way in.

  “Touch my clit,” she tells me in that bossy tone of hers.

  At least we’ve graduated from nub to clit. I obey my sweet woman and rub at the sensitive bundle of nerves with my thumb. With my eyes on hers, I push my middle finger between her fat lips.

  “Suck.”

  Her eyes grow hooded as she face fucks my finger the same way she fucks my cock. Once it’s good and wet, I slip it out, letting a string of slobber drip down her chin. I lick up her sweet taste, my tongue tangling with hers, as I locate her ass blindly. My slick finger runs along her crack until I find the bud I’m looking for. I massage the tender muscle until she’s whining with need. Slowly, I push inside her asshole with my finger, loving the way both holes clench in response.

  “I’m going to put my dick here one day,” I tell her. I push as deep as I can go. “All the way in there.”

  She bobs up and down my cock, her ass clenching each time. When her head tilts back, I attack her pretty throat with my teeth and tongue. I suck her neck, uncaring that I’m leaving more marks. I love the way they look on her.

  With my finger in her ass, my cock stuffed in her pussy, and my thumb on her clit, she unravels quickly. Her pussy leaks with her arousal, signifying her upcoming release. The moment she comes, her entire body jolts and tightens as a scream crawls up her throat. She’s hot as fuck when she goes wild for me. Her fingers yank at my hair as she rides her orgasm out.

  “Oh fuck,” I grunt against her mouth.

  Pull out. Pull out. Pull out.

  My balls tighten and I bite her neck. She claws at my shoulders, still trembling. Cum shoots into her needy body, spurt after heavy spurt. I fill up my wife and it feels fucking amazing. No guilt washes over me because claiming her this way takes precedence over everything.

  “I might get you pregnant,” I tell her, my words hot against her flesh.

  “Good husband.”

  Fuck if that doesn’t make me want to do it again the moment my dick hardens back up, consequences be damned.

  Domestic bliss looks good on Eve.

  With each passing day, I realize I’ll never be able to let her go. Planning a visit to see Reed and Devon is a good idea. We need to get away. Maybe not be so strained all the time hiding our true feelings. Reed of all fucking people won’t judge. He has every right to considering I judged the hell out of him over the fact he fucked his daughter.

  “Smelly dog, smelly dog, what are they feeding you?” Eve sings from the dresser, sounding very much like Phoebe from Friends, as she folds clothes in a basket.

  Blind Bear rolls over on his back and lets out another doggie fart. Enough bacon for that big boy. His bowels can’t handle it.

  “Gross. Send him to the woods.”

  She finishes putting her clean panties in the top drawer and tosses the laundry basket in the corner. “How about I send you to the woods instead?”

  Her challenge gets my dick hard.

  “You’re awfully sassy la
tely.” I stand from the bed and prowl over to her. “Maybe I ought to spank you.”

  “With a switch?” she winces, her dark eyes growing stormy.

  “Not like whoever the fuck beat you into submission before,” I growl. “I’m talking a good ol’ hand to the ass kind of spanking. Knowing you, your little pussy would get so wet over it. You’re a very naughty girl, Eve.”

  Her smile grows wicked. “Can I spank you back?”

  “Fuck. You’re a little sadist, you know that?”

  She hooks her thumbs into her yoga pants when something shatters. I shove her behind me and rush for my Glock. The dog tears out of the bedroom toward the sound.

  “Stay back,” I bark at her as I stalk down the hallway and into the living room.

  Cold wind blows in through the kitchen window. A rock sits on the floor and the basket of fruit that was on the table is gone.

  What the fuck?

  Bears?

  I stuff my feet into my boots and grab my coat before walking outside. Blind Bear runs out into the snow sniffing. What I see stops me in my tracks.

  Shoe prints in the snow on the porch.

  Large. Male if I had to guess. Human.

  I squint against the darkness but make out nothing.

  “Who’s there?” I call out.

  Silence.

  No cars. No bikes. No anything.

  Just a trail of footprints going into the woods.

  “BB,” I call out and then whistle. “Get back in the house.”

  After a few minutes of nothing, Blind Bear goes back inside and I follow him. Eve wears a nervous expression I don’t see from her too often.

  “Bear?”

  “Nah,” I grit out. “Human.”

  She eyes the window letting in cold air. “He wanted fruit?”

  I hope that’s all he fucking wanted.

  “Probably just hungry,” I assure her. “A drifter. He’ll be gone before morning.”

  “What if he comes back?”

  I grip her jaw and press a kiss to her supple mouth. “I’ll shoot first and ask questions later.”

  We may be playing pretend about this husband and wife shit, but my heart thinks it’s real and that’s all that matters.

  If anyone touches my wife, it’ll be the last thing they do.