Insta Holiday (Justice)

“My hands are full. I can’t let myself get distracted.” If this were another time in my life when things were more settled, I know without a doubt I would be ecstatic that Tyson Carter wanted me to be his girl. But those are not my circumstances, and now is not the time to be selfish when my brothers are counting on me.

“And I’m lazy, as you said. Maybe you could give me things to fill my hands with.”

“Tyson!”

“Ah, shit. I didn’t mean it like that, but either way. Give me shit to do. I can help.”

“But it’s not your responsibility.”

“It’s not yours either, Rory.” That’s where he’s wrong.

“They're my brothers.”

“And I want to be your man so your shit would be my shit.” Now he’s full-on smiling.

It’s one of the things I’ve admired about Tyson. He always has that smile even when things are going to hell. His outlook is always positive. He’d even been that way on the football field. They’d be losing, and everyone else was pissed off, but he’d smile and get them through it. In the end he always won.

A knock sounds at the door. “Let me go talk to the cops. You tuck the boys in.” Before I can answer him, he’s dropping a kiss on my mouth and heading for the front door. I reach up and touch my lips, which are still tingling.

Damn, was that kiss good. My body is still screaming for more. I can’t remember the last time I’ve enjoyed something as much as I did that minute of getting lost in Tyson. It’s only going to make it harder now to push him away.

The man really is wearing me down. I think part of me keeps waiting to see when he’s going to give up. I know it will crush me. Not that I’d ever let anyone else know that. There is something in him showing up every day that gives me this trace of reassurance that I’m not always alone.

I busy myself, making sure the boys are set in bed. I don’t want to deal with the cops. They always give me these sad looks and remind me of the local food pantry. When I come back out, Tyson is standing in the living room, clicking away on his phone.

“Taking Jessica up on her offer?”

“Jessica?” He gives me a confused look, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“About being your girl. She’s pretty.”

“You wound me.” He puts his hand over his heart. “I belong to a sexy, smart blond with green eyes and a killer ass. Whether she wants me or not, I’m all hers. “He clears the space between us. “No reason to be jealous.”

“I’m not.” I roll my eyes. “Everything okay with the police?” I ask, changing the subject, knowing I already showed my ass.

“About that.”

“What?” I glance to the closed front door, which I can see is locked.

“He took off before they got here.”

“Okay, does it matter really?” I try to hide the trace of fear that spikes through me.

“To me it does. He said some fucked-up shit, and he could come back, so that means I’m staying.”

“Staying as in, here?” I point to the ground. “You can’t stay here.” Temptation would be way too close then.

“I can stay in my car out front all night, or you can let me crash on the sofa.” He folds his arms over his chest. I know that look in his eyes. It’s the one he always gets when his mind is set on something.

“All right.” I give. I’m too tired to fight him at this point.

Tyson Carter wins this round.

CHAPTER 7

TYSON

Falling asleep on the sofa is a no-go in part because it’s too short and too lumpy but mostly because my hard-on will not abate. I can’t even go into the bathroom to fap because there’s only one, and it’s right next to Rory’s bedroom, so I just lie on my back, my eyes pinned to the popcorn ceiling and my hand at the base of my dick, squeezing the life out of it in hopes of strangling my erection.

It doesn’t help that sometime in the middle of the night or early morning, I grow so tired that I start having hallucinations of Rory coming out of her bedroom wearing one of those cotton jersey G-strings and a thin T-shirt she’s cut off right below her tits. She straddles me, and magically we both fit on this skinny stretch of a cushion.

“Ty-ty, I’ve wanted you for so long,” she says. “Let me show you how much.” She reaches her hands behind her head and slips her hair into a ponytail. The action raises the T-shirt enough that the lower part of her tits are exposed. My breath catches in my throat. I keep my hands at my sides because I’m uncertain if this apparition will disappear if I move.