Unexpected Fall (Unexpected Arrivals 3)

“Tell him to keep to his side of the couch.” Mark nods to where Seth sits on the opposite side of Kent. Seth and Kent dissolve into laughter, and Mark tightens his hold on me.

This possessive side to him has been happening more since the night I lost my parents. At times I think it’s because he feels bad for me that I have no one but him, and our friends, until times like now, when his hand rests on my thigh and the other slips under the hem of my shirt and rubs my back. Only he and I know that’s what he’s doing. It’s just for us, not for show. I’ve dissected his intentions a million times, but what it comes down to, is I refuse to ask. I can’t handle it right now. Good or bad, I think it might break me. So instead, I pretend that this new affection he shows me in front of the group is not new, and it’s how we’ve always been with each other.

I pretend that I have my shit together, and I know the exact path my life is taking me.

Fake it until you make it.

“Your place or mine?” Mark asks a few hours later.

I glance over at him where he sits behind the wheel of his truck, waiting for me to tell him which direction he needs to go. “I-I don’t want to be alone.” After all day with our friends and their kids, going home alone sounds like the worst kind of torture.

“Let me rephrase my question. Are we,” he places emphasis on we, “going to your place or mine?”

I smile at him. “Yours.”

“You got what you need for work tomorrow at my place?”

“Yes.” At his insistence, I keep clothes and toiletries at his place. It does come in handy on the nights I don’t want to go home alone. I’m spending more and more time at his place. I don’t hate it.

He nods and turns right out of Tyler and Reagan’s driveway. “Those little buggers are exhausting,” he comments, settling his arm beside mine where it rests on the center console of his truck. He loops his pinky through mine.

“They definitely have a lot of energy,” I agree. “However, they all did have cake.”

“This is true. That’s the best part about being Uncle Mark. I get to spoil them, sneak them extra cupcakes, and then leave them with their parents to fight off the sugar high.”

“You’re terrible.” I laugh.

“Hey, it’s part of the Uncle’s Code of Ethics.”

“Who wrote this particular Code of Ethics?” I ask. “Seth?”

“It was a group effort, and it’s not so much as written as assumed. However, Ty was in on it when we started it. Knox was the only little one at the time, so my guess is that Ty would like to amend it.” He chuckles. “Sucks for him. There are still three remaining childless uncles. Majority rules.”

I just shake my head and smile. These guys and their antics never cease to amaze me. “I bet Kendall and Reagan can veto.”

“The Uncle’s Code of Ethics is sacred. No moms allowed.”

“So you’re telling me I’m privy to private man-child inside information?”

“Man-child?” he scoffs, making me throw my head back and laugh.

“Just calling it like I see it,” I volley. He mutters something under his breath about no respect for the uncle, and I don’t need to look in the mirror to know that I’m grinning like a fool.

“I think I’m going to take a shower,” I tell him once we’re in the house. “I feel sticky.” I hold my arms out as if you can see the sticky.

“Okay, babe,” he says, kissing the top of my head.

I disappear into his bedroom, strip out of my clothes, toss them in the dirty laundry basket, and head to the bathroom. I’m standing outside of his walk-in shower waiting for the water to heat. This shower is one of my favorite parts of this house. It’s huge, no door, no curtain, just lots of tile, and multiple showerheads. There’s a bench in the corner that I use when I shave my legs. It’s no wonder I spend more time here than my place. The company is number one, but this shower is a close second.

“Hey.” His deep timbre greets me as his hands rest on my bare hips. “You good? You look pretty deep in your thoughts.” He’s been so cautious with me the last few months. I’ve pulled from his strength more than I care to admit.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about this shower. It so makes staying over worth it.”

He moves closer and his naked body aligns with mine. “Is that all?” He bends to kiss my neck.

“You’ve seen this shower, right?” I goad.

His answer is to press his hard cock into me. “You’ve seen my cock, right?” he counters.

I was trying to be funny, but the heat in his voice has me rubbing my thighs together. I turn in his arms, resting my palms against his chest, his thick length straining between us. I make sure he’s watching me, and make a point to look down and then slowly back up. “Sure. You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.”

He growls as he grips my hips and lifts me. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his waist as he steps us under the hot spray. “You’re rough on a man’s ego,” he says, moving his hands to my ass and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Meh.” I go for nonchalant. “Maybe you should prove me wrong.”

“Pixie.” He breathes his hot breath at my ear. I yelp when we step out of the shower and he stalks to the vanity, yanking open the drawer and pulling out a condom. He sets me on the counter while he rolls it down his hard length. In a matter of seconds, I’m back in his arms and we’re back under the hot spray. “Hold on tight,” he says as he pushes inside me.

My head falls back and my hands lock tight around his neck. “Damn” falls from my lips. No matter how many times we’ve done this, it’s still a shock to my body. Nothing compares to Mark inside me.

“So fucking tight,” he moans as he pulls out and pushes back in.

So fucking big, I think it, but don’t get a chance to voice the words as he quickens his thrusts. He turns and reverses up until his back rests against the shower wall. Hands on my hips, he lifts me and pulls me back down. Over and over he repeats this, driving me crazy.

“Mark,” I moan his name as my body tingles.

“Give it to me, Pixie. I want all your pleasure. I want to hear you scream. I want to feel your pussy squeezing the fuck out of my cock.” His hands move to my ass and I tilt my hips, making him growl.

Lift. Slam.

Lift. Slam.

“Oh, God,” I moan when my legs start to quiver.

“No God, baby. It’s just me,” he says with a pant, never missing a beat in his ministrations of my body. “Come for me,” he demands.

It’s as if his voice is a trigger for my orgasm. I call out his name. My nails dig into his neck as my body convulses around him. A roar tears from his lips and with one final thrust, he holds himself deep inside me as he loses control.

“Want to change your answer?” he asks, kissing under my ear.

“What?” I’m still coming down from my orgasmic paradise.

“Why you like to stay over,” he reminds me.

Lifting my head, my eyes find his, and he’s watching me intently. We’re both breathing heavily. Looping an arm around his neck, I use the other to place my hand on his chest, over his heart. “This,” I whisper hoarsely. “This is what keeps me here.”

“Fuck,” he murmurs, and crashes his lips to mine. He kisses me lazily, moving us to the bench where he sits with me still wrapped around him. Slowly, he makes love to my mouth, his hands roaming my body. When the water eventually runs cold, he shuts it off and steps out of the shower. He makes sure I’m steady on my feet before releasing his hold on me. Towel in hand, he wraps it over my shoulders and hands me another for my hair before grabbing one for himself.

Quietly, he leads me to his bed, pulling back the covers and waiting for me to climb in. He wastes no time following in after me, tugging me into his arms. “It’s yours you know. It will always be yours.”

My heart slips a beat at his confession. “I’ll keep it safe,” I whisper into the darkness. These moments with him cause my heart to swell wit

h so much love. I can easily picture this being our life. It’s a vivid movie reel in my head, and it gives me something to hold on to.

Hope for the future.

New beginnings.

Now we just need to say the words and make it true.

Chapter Twelve

Mark

“Mark!” Knox shouts as Dawn and I walk around the house to the backyard. He comes running at me full speed. I let go of Dawn’s hand, bracing for impact from the little dude. He launches himself at me, and I pick him up in my arms, settling him on my hip.

“Happy Birthday,” I say, bouncing him.

“Dad gots fire that goes boom,” he says excitedly.