My Kind of Love (Finding Love 1)

“Fuck,” I grunt. I’m going to come like a goddamn pubescent teenage boy if she keeps doing that. She rolls us over so she’s lying between my legs and her head begins to bob up and down, sucking my dick like she needs it to survive. I reach down and move her hair from her face so I can watch. Then I reach farther to pinch her pink nipples that are hanging like perfect teardrops, swaying back and forth as she fucks me with her mouth. She takes my ballsac in her palm, squeezing slightly, and I’m a goner.

Unable to form the words to warn her, I grasp her mane, trying to pull her off me, but she doesn’t let up, taking every last drop of my orgasm.

Her mouth pops off my dick and she runs her tongue along the seam of her lips before she smiles sweetly. “Okay, I’m ready now.”

“Yeah, but I’m not.” Sitting up, I grip the curves of her hips and lay her down. “Now, it’s my turn.”

I’m quiet on the walk over to Micaela’s family’s place, and thankfully, she doesn’t question it, just holding my hand and walking next to me. After I ate her pussy—twice—we showered again and then got dressed. I called my parents to let them know I’m okay, and they made me promise, once I’m settled in, to bring Micaela and RJ over. Micaela and I haven’t talked about what happened during my last few days of deployment, why I was several days late. I know she knows we were ambushed, but she doesn’t know anything else. It will be in the news soon, so I’m planning to tell her, but right now I just want to focus on her and RJ and being home with them. When I tell her what happened, I’m almost positive she’s going to freak out. But right now she’s pretending to be blissfully ignorant, like I was away on an extended trip and not almost killed by some crazy as fuck terrorists who had bombs strapped to their bodies to prove whatever point they were trying to make.

When we get to the door, I take a deep breath and she glances over at me. “You okay?”

“Yeah…”

“Then why are you squeezing the life out of my hand?” She raises our joined hands. “I lost all feeling of my fingers three houses back.”

“Sorry.” I loosen my grip but don’t let go. “I know RJ isn’t going to know who I am, but what if he’s scared of me?”

“Why would he be scared of you?”

“Before I was adopted, I was sent to foster care. I don’t remember a lot, but I do remember all the strange faces. I was passed around to different homes and not knowing who anyone was scared me. He knows you and your family. He knows my family…but he doesn’t know me. So he might be scared.”

“Were you scared when Bentley and Kayla took you home?”

I think about it for a second, remembering the day they saved me. At first, I was scared. Bentley was this huge, muscular, scary-looking man, but then he knelt down next to me and, with the softest voice, said, ‘We’d like to take you home if that’s okay.’ He extended his hand, and in that moment, I had never felt so safe.

“No, I felt safe.”

“That’s because they loved you. Just like you love RJ. He might not know you, but he’ll know you love him.”

She takes my hand and walks us through the door. The second her mom spots us, she rushes over and envelops me in a motherly hug. “Oh, thank God. When Marco told me he heard from you, I was so relieved. You’ve spoken to your mom, right?” she asks, stepping back and assessing me to make sure I really am okay.

“Yeah, we’ll probably visit her tomorrow so she can see me for herself.”

“Oh, good.” She gives me another hug. “RJ is in the backyard with Marco and Liam. They’re grilling dinner. You guys will stay, yes?”

“Of course,” I tell her, already following Micaela through the house to the backyard.

We step outside and the smell of grilled meat wafts in the air. It’s been a long ass time since I smelled food that good. Marco is standing in front of the grill, and Liam is sitting at the table, drawing or writing on a piece of paper.

Marco tilts his chin toward me with a grin. “There he is, and in one piece.”

“Dad,” Micaela chides, walking over to Liam. She gives the top of his head a kiss before she bends down. “There’s my little guy,” she coos, lifting RJ into the air. His smiling, pudgy face comes into view, and tears burn behind my lids. She blows raspberries on his belly and his eyes light up, the most beautiful fucking giggle ringing through the air. I’ve seen him in pictures and a couple times in video, but none of that did him justice. With my brown hair and bright blue eyes, he already looks like me. But when he laughs, his dimples, which are identical to mine, pop out, and if I had any baby pictures, I’m almost positive that’s what they would look like.