Her breath gasped, and she was crying out in surprise.
Hopefully that cry meant that she was coming, because I couldn’t stop.
Not even if I’d wanted to.
“Shit!” she gasped. “Oh, yes. Yes.”
Hopefully that meant ‘yes I came.’ Because I grunted as the seed left my body, jetting straight into hers, so deep that I knew she’d be dripping of me the rest of the night.
I opened my eyes only to immediately close them again when something sprayed across my face.
It was like a geyser, surprising at first until I realized just what it was.
“Oh, shit,” she breathed, sounding horrified.
I blinked open one eye, waiting for a spray of milk that never came.
“Oh my God.” She shook her head. “That did not just happen.”
She reached for the pillow next to my face and ripped the pillowcase off the pillow.
Only after she’d cleaned me off did she say, “I read that might happen. I didn’t realize that I’d try to drown you.”
I laughed at her words, and the pink in her cheeks.
“It’s okay, baby,” I teased, bending forward to lick a drop of milk off the tip of her breast. “It’s a normal body function. I’m not upset.”
I found it amusing, actually.
The pink in her cheeks made it obvious that she did not.
“That’s horrible.” She looked disgusted in herself.
“We have bigger problems,” I said, holding up the foil wrapper that I’d forgotten completely about.
She blinked at it. “Shit.”
She blew out a breath. “As much as I wouldn’t mind having another one of your babies, Troup, I really want to spend some time with you. I want just a little more time before we add to the chaos of our family.”
I wiped the milk from my face that she’d missed and sat up, my cock pressing even deeper.
I had to tell myself not to enjoy it, but my cock apparently wasn’t connected to my cognitive brain.
“Just one more time,” I said, feeling my cock start to swell again. “Then I’ll wear the stupid condoms.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s kind of like saying ‘just the tip.’”
I squeezed her hips and started to jerk her body up and down against mine.
“Just this once,” I repeated. “Just this once.”
CHAPTER 26
I am a texter. Please do not call or facetime me. I will not answer.
-Text from Beckham to Sammy
BECKHAM
Over the next six weeks, Trouper and I found ourselves falling into a daily routine.
He would wake up with Hiro in the early morning hours and bring him to our room. I would feed him, and then Trouper would take him back to bed before getting dressed and getting a workout in all before five in the morning.
Together, we would head to the private investigations firm that Lynn had set up in the town of Souls Chapel, Texas.
And though we had that place next to my parents’ house that would’ve been perfect, Trouper and I looked for a place closer to the town we were working in so we didn’t have to drive two hours or so back and forth from work every day.
Today had been no different.
What had been the difference was the information that Trouper had found while I’d been doing some phone research over lunch. He’d gone to South Texas last night, and we’d spent our first night apart since he’d gotten out of prison.
He came in with a worried look on his face a little after four in the afternoon.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, seeing the look and feeling a knot of dread fill my stomach.
“That lead you had on Cannel,” he said. “I followed it up. Asked a few questions of the man that used to live in the area where she disappeared. He said about a week before Cannel disappeared—though he signifies this with the week that the catfish stopped biting, not when Cannel disappeared—something happened in a swampy area that he used to hunt alligators. Something about the water going super-duper low for about two days. So he traveled upriver for a bit and found that a dam had been set.”
I sat forward. “Okay.”
“Anyway, some ‘douchewad beaver,’ his word not mine, had decided to put a dam in. As he was destroying it, he remembers seeing a big air boat with ‘fancy stickers’ on it. He remembers the stickers being bright with a massive gorilla on it with purple writing. I followed that up with a few local marinas in the area, and they told me that the boat actually had ‘Gorilla Bait’ on it. But they hadn’t seen the boating company in a while. A year at least.” His eyes gleamed. “So then I did a search of companies in the area and found them. That was the search I had you run last night. Do you want to know where the ‘Gorilla Bait’ company moved to?”
I knew exactly what he was saying.
“I pulled them up on Facebook,” I said, switching between screens. “This one right here.”