“I’m not sure any of this is good,” I told him.
“I’m not either,” he agreed, then his eyes grew intense on me. “What I am sure of, it’s nobody’s fuckin’ business.”
That, I knew, was very, very true.
His arms gave me a squeeze and his voice went soft when he reminded me, “You got work tomorrow, and we both don’t know what the day will bring. We should get some shut-eye.”
“Yeah,” I whispered then dropped my head to touch my mouth to his.
When I lifted it, he rolled me to his side and reached an arm across me to turn out the light. He settled in and tucked me close.
I snuggled closer.
I was about to enter dreamland when it hit me.
And although near sleep, what hit me, Shy had to know.
“You did it,” I said, my voice quiet and drowsy.
“Did what, sugar?”
“Today, at the Compound, what you said, you did it.”
“What, baby?”
“I dreamed a dream.”
His arms spasmed.
I drifted to sleep, muttering, “You promised to get me to a dream, you got me to a dream. Thank you, honey.”
Then I fell asleep.
* * *
Shy
Shy Cage did not sleep.
He held his slumbering girl in his arms and he struggled with the urge to howl at the moon.
It took a while to control that urge.
Then, no matter the shit that went down that day, Shy fell asleep smiling.
Chapter Fourteen
Make Her Happy
Shy’s mouth worked between my legs, my back left the bed, my heels dug into his lats, I ground my hips into his face, and I came hard.
Still coming, I found myself on my stomach, my hips were jerked up, and Shy’s cock drove inside me.
“Again, Tabby, hand between your legs,” he growled, his hands at my hips, yanking me back as he thrust forward and took me.
I was still coming but I managed to get my hand between my legs. I moaned into the pillows at my touch and his strokes.
Oh God, this was brilliant.
“Push up, baby, want your tits,” he ordered.
I pushed up, he kept driving deep even as his mouth hit my neck and his hands covered my breasts. Then his fingers did things to my nipples that made me gasp and my entire body jerk.
“Wait for me,” he grunted.
“Shy, no way,” I panted.
He drove up and ground in, rumbling against my neck as his fingers twisted my nipples, “Wait. For. Me.”
“Oh God,” I moaned, grinding down. “Hurry.”
He started thrusting.
Oh God.
“Are you close?” I breathed.
“Gettin’ there,” he muttered.
He kept thrusting, his fingers working my breasts.
“Honey, are you close?” I begged.
“Fuck,” he groaned into my neck. “Give it to me, Tabby.”
Thank God.
I let go and gave it to him, my head flying back, slamming into his shoulder as his mouth closed over the skin of my neck and I felt him sucking deep.
That would leave a mark.
I came down and I felt his breath against my skin as he did too.
Then I lifted my hands to his that were now just holding me, curled around my breasts.
“That was awesome,” I breathed.
“It’s always awesome,” he murmured.
He was right, and I was glad to know he felt the same way.
My hands moved with his hands as one of them slid up to wrap around my chest and the other one slid down to cup me between my legs where he was still buried deep.
“Love you, Shy Cage,” I whispered.
“Love you too, baby,” he whispered back.
After the day before, I didn’t know what that day was going to bring.
I just knew however it carried on, it started great.
* * *
Shy and I were shuffling around in the kitchen, me in my scrubs, Shy in his jeans. We were sipping coffee, sucking back bowls of cereal, chatting, touching, kissing, our usual routine, when my phone rang.
I’d turned my cell off and the ringer to my house phone the night before. Shy needed my concentration so I gave it to hm.
I’d turned my phone on that morning and found I had seventeen missed calls and nearly as many voice-mail messages. Five were from Tyra, three from Dad, two from Rush, one from Big Petey, and the rest were from various brothers or their old ladies. All of them were asking me to call them.
I knew the day was going to go downhill from there.
Luckily, it started at a way-high point. The problem with that, the higher you are, the farther there is to fall.
I looked at my phone at the counter, saw the screen said, “Tyra Calling” and heard Shy say, “Pick it up, babe.”
I looked to Shy to see he had his eyes to the phone.
“I don’t know if I’m ready.”
His eyes came to me. “She wasn’t ready for you to lay into her yesterday either. You took your time to talk, give her hers.”
He was right.
Crap.
I grabbed the phone quickly before it went to voice-mail and put it to my ear.
“Tyra,” I greeted.
“Tabby,” she whispered, and my heart squeezed.
She sounded relieved and something else that didn’t sound great.
Learning from what I lost with Shy, I didn’t delay and extended the olive branch.
“Listen, I know we have a lot to talk about but I’m getting ready for work. Can we set time to talk after work? I’ll meet you someplace and I promise, I’ll come prepared not to be a bitch.”
“Honey, I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but your grandmother died.”
My middle shifted back as my breath left me in an audible whoosh.
My phone slid out of my hand, and I heard Shy growl, “You got Shy. Whatever else you gotta say, you’re gonna say it to me.”
My eyes lifted to his, I saw he mistook my reaction when his angry eyes that were riveted to my face changed. They went soft, his hand came up and curled around the side of my neck, and he pulled me close.
“Right,” he said into the phone, his voice no longer a growl but a soothing rumble. “Okay,” he went on. “I’ll tell her. She’s bein’ careful at work ’cause of what went down. I’ll talk with her, see how she wants to play this. One of us will call you back.” Pause then, quietly, his eye still on me, “Later, Cherry.”
He didn’t take his gaze from mine when he took the phone from his ear, touched the screen with his thumb, and whispered, “Your mom’s mom. Massive stroke. Your mom told Rush, he told your dad. They’ve been callin’ but didn’t approach ’cause things were not good.”
I nodded.
“You tight with her?” he asked.
“She hated my mom, acted mean to her, but although she could do stupid crap, she was usually great with Rush and me.”
His hand slid to the back of my neck, he pulled me into his chest and his other arm slid around me.
It was then I started crying.
Shy held me, gave me time, and only spoke again when I was pulling myself together.
“Your dad wants to see you,” he said gently, and I sucked in breath and nodded. “How you wanna play this, sugar?”