We panted together, slick with sweat, and I closed my eyes, letting myself feel his skin on mine, bask in the moment, loving his weight draped over me.
Neither of us moved.
“You have my cum dripping out of your ass, even though my dick is there too.”
I grunted, smugly happy that my body pleased him.
“And just so you’re clear, your ass is amazing, tight and round and just fuckin’ edible, but the best part of bein’ married is that you love me, so you don’t do this with anybody else, and I trust that like I never thought I would or could.”
I took a breath so I wouldn’t do something stupid to ruin the moment. Like cry.
“You’re my husband, and I didn’t think that would ever be something I would want, and now it’s the only thing I do.”
I nodded, and he laughed softly against my back.
“All that goes ditto for you, huh, tough guy?”
“Hold me tighter, ’kay?”
And so he did.
WE FINALLY got up, wiped ourselves down, nuked the spaghetti because it had gotten cold, ate some more, showered, took Chickie for his nightly walk, and then came home and lay on the couch, tangled together.
“I wanna hear,” I yawned, “all about your day.”
“And I wanna hear about yours.”
“You go first,” I insisted because I could imagine him being all bossy, and it sounded pretty hot.
“Why don’t you just put your head down while I watch a little TV and let my brain rest.”
“But I’m really interested in you.”
“I know, and I’m happy you are, but right this second, I kinda just want to… be.”
“Oh,” I sighed. “Well, that sounds pretty good too.”
“I thought it would,” he said, brushing my hair back and kissing my forehead as I snuggled up against his shoulder.
The knock on the door was a surprise.
“Who’re you expecting?” Ian asked as Chickie got up from where he was curled at Ian’s feet and padded over to the front door.
We both watched as he stood there, head cocked, listening, tail wagging slowly like an afterthought. Whoever was out there, he knew.
“Shit,” Ian grumbled because that was worse. A stranger he could turn away. Extracting himself from me, he got up and walked to the front door and looked out the peephole. “Oh for fuck’s sake.”
Hurling the door open, he stepped sideways so Cabot and Drake, Josue and another kid could walk through the door.
I scrambled to my feet the second I saw that Cabot had a bloody nose and lip. Drake looked worse and Josue only a bit better. I was pretty sure I knew who the fourth kid was, but I’d wait a second to see.
“The hell happened to you guys?” I yelled as they all bolted across the floor to reach me.
It was a wall of sound, all of them talking at once, over each other, and of course I couldn’t understand a word beyond “party” and “drugs” and “the DEA.”
Of course it was the fuckin’ DEA.
“Who’re you,” Ian asked to the new kid, “and why’re you in my house?”
He too had gotten hit in the face. The pale skin was marred by red splotches that would become very colorful bruises, I knew from experience. He was pretty with his black hair and dark blue eyes, and I understood why Josue, who was stunning himself, had looked twice at him.
“I’m Marcello McKenna.”
“Who?” Ian was confused.
“Josue’s boyfriend,” I explained.
“Okay,” Ian said, squinting at Josue. “So what happened?”
“They tried to grab him,” Josue wailed, face crumpling, eyes overflowing with tears he’d barely held in check, shivering with cold, I was sure, and fright.
Marcello put his arm around Josue and drew him close before wrapping him up tight and notching his head under his chin. They were very cute together, and when I looked at Ian, I found him glaring.
“What?”
“Don’t go all warm and gooey over there. This kid could be a criminal that your kid is mixed up with.”
“No, we vetted him when he and Josue first started dating, don’t you remember?”
“Clearly not,” Ian said, sounding very bored.
“You checked him out?” Josue asked.
“Of course. We had to.”
“I told you they would,” Drake chimed in. “The only reason Cabot and I didn’t have to be checked out was that we came in together.”
“That’s right,” I informed Josue. “Anyone personally involved with you gets run through our system.”
“And nothing bad came back on me, right?” Marcello asked.
“Nothing that sent up any red flags, but there must be something or the DEA wouldn’t have you in their system.”
“It was a long time ago,” Marcello confessed with a sigh. “I used to run packages for Tadgh Murphy back in the day, but seriously, it’s been years. I don’t know how this guy even knew about me. And old man Murphy knows I’ve been out since his son died.”
“You were only a runner, not a dealer?” Ian barked.