Where We Belong (Alabama Summer #3.5)

What the fuck did he just say?

“Do you think Evans is with me, you piece of shit? Get the fuck out of here!”

Mia laughs against my neck.

I tilt my head down. “This isn’t funny, Angel.”

“It kind of is,” she says quietly.

“What’s up, Mia?”

“Tully!”

He steps away from the window. “All right! I was just saying hi. Jesus Christ. Ease up, Kelly. It’s not like I saw anything.”

I grit my teeth.

“I heard a little.”

“I’m going to kill him,” I growl, turning my head. “He’s dead. You’re fucking dead, you hear me?”

“Leaving now!” he calls out. “See you later, Mia!”

A door closes, then the unmistakable sound of a car driving over gravel signals his exit.

Now that no one’s distracting me, getting off on my cock and moaning in my ear, I have no trouble hearing shit going on outside around us. It’s as clear as fucking day.

Speaking of my cock . . .

Mia shifts her weight in my lap.

Groaning, I drop my head against the seat as her warm, wet pussy slides along my limp shaft.

Fuck, my balls. I hope this doesn’t cause permanent damage.

“Hey.”

I tilt my head down.

“Are you okay?” Mia asks, her full lips pinching together and then lifting into a soft, sated and slightly amused smile.

I take a moment to stare at her. My anger slips away.

Her cheeks are flushed. Her hair a wild mess of dark heavy waves, falling past her shoulders and sticking to her sweat soaked skin. Her nipples are still tight from arousal. Rosy blotches and indentations made from teeth decorate her breasts and the rise of her neck.

I didn’t come? I no longer care. Look at her.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” I say as I reach behind her back and quickly remove the cuffs. I rub her wrists and the bend in her arms, her biceps, soothing any ache she might have.

She falls forward, her head resting on my shoulder. Her body loose and warm.

Mia doesn’t say anything for the longest time, then with my eyes closed and my hands moving leisurely over her back she presses the softest kiss to my neck and whispers, “I am so fucking yours.”

I open my eyes.

Fuck.

A weight of relief settles over me, like I didn’t know her life was mine or that I belonged irrevocably to her until this very moment.

I bury my face in her hair as we cling to each other. Desperate and adoring touches, our whispered words being muted further by the rain against the glass, but I still say them, and so does she.

“I love you.”

“I love you. I think I want another baby.”

Mia

SOMETHING IS OFF WITH BEN.

Aside from the fact that he didn’t come earlier today during our back-seat sex romp, we’re on our way to meet up with Angie so she can spend time with Nolan, something I know he wishes we could avoid all together, and he seems to be in a decent mood.

No. More than decent. He’s humming.

Humming. You know, that thing people do when they’re feeling pleasant, or maybe even a little excited about something. Ben is doing that right now.

All things considered, it’s very, very strange.

I’m expecting a noticeable irritation. A tense rigidness to his body or, since he’s been deprived for months, that wily, concentrated look he gets when I know he’s thinking in great detail about fucking me.

God, I love that look. I love dissecting it, crawling inside his beautiful brain and imagining what he’s doing to me in there. Letting my own mind wander and then blushing when he notices my drifting attention.

Hard and fast or soft and slow. What are you thinking, Mr. Kelly?

Taking my focus off the road ahead, I glance across the bench seat and stare at the man beside me.

Ben is relaxed against the worn leather, with one hand on the wheel and the other arm resting on the ledge of the open window. Over the low rumble of the engine I can hear the deep tones of his voice carrying out a tune. He taps his thumb rhythmically against the wheel.

I narrow my eyes.

What the fuck? He’s probably backed up to his eyeballs in semen and he’s about to spend time with this ex. Why is he so goddamn chipper?

As if hearing my own vexing thoughts, or sensing the scrutiny he’s getting, Ben turns his head and gently smiles at me.

“Angel.” He glances ahead, then quickly studies my face. “You okay?”

I cross my arms below my chest. My breasts bounce a little, drawing his gaze to the cleavage peeking out from my floral sundress.

Yeah. Remember these? I don’t hear any humming now.

“Are you okay?” I ask. “You look like you’re actually looking forward to this.”

The thought settles over me like a dark cloud. I sink further into the seat, the relenting weight of jealousy gathering in my chest.

Does Ben actually want to see Angie?

His brow pinches together before he looks back at the road. “How so?”

“Well, let’s see. You’re humming for one. You don’t hum, Ben.”

“I hum sometimes.”

I breathe a laugh. “Yeah. Sometimes. You occasionally hum after we have,” I pause, whipping my head around and glancing in the back at the boys.

Chase is passed out; his cheek pressed against the side of his car seat. The beloved stuffed octopus pinned under his arm.

I turn my attention to Nolan.

He looks up from his iPad and smiles, ready to absorb my next words.

“Cookies,” I blurt out, facing the front again. My face warms. “After we have cookies.”

“Cookies?” Ben smirks, his brow lifting in amusement as he turns his head and locks eyes with me.

I limply shrug.

What the hell else was I supposed to say? Sex? I’m not trying to expand Nolan’s already progressively building bank of inappropriate vocabulary. We’ve somehow managed to keep this word out of his little sponge of a brain. Shocking, I know. Especially with Ben requesting it for dinner and practically calling out for it in the middle of the night in his sleep. It’s a miracle really. And I’d like to keep Nolan as innocent as possible.

At least, for as long as I can.

“I love having cookies with you,” Ben jokes, grinning so big it’s impossible to fight my own smile. A full-on dimple assault. He reaches across the seat and squeezes my thigh. “You thinking about having some right now?”

“I want some cookies!” Nolan yells from the back seat. “Do we have some with us? Mommy, you bring any?”

“Oh, my God,” I groan, covering my face.

Nice, Mia. Way to think that one through.

“No, Nolan. I didn’t bring any cookies.”

Ben laughs. His touch leaves my leg. “I would kill for some cookies right about now.”

I drop my hands to my lap and cut him a look.

Are you crazy?

He winks at me.

“Me too, Daddy,” Nolan echoes. He kicks his legs excitedly and looks out the window. His head drops against the seat with a heavy sigh. “I want some so bad. I might die if I don’t get any.”

My mouth falls open.

These Kelly boys. I swear.

“Buddy, you have no idea,” Ben murmurs, glancing in the rearview mirror at his son.