| 33 | Watching the Devil Weep ||
Lacey grumbled at her wrinkled fingers and see-through fingernails. She’d been cleaning since Devlin dropped her at the Popes’ cabin a couple weeks before. She worked, true, got lots of things done, and still no Devlin. Last time he called, things were finally confirmed. That was three days, six hours and thirty-five minutes ago.
She clasped her palm over her stomach, a wave of nausea hit her. Would the next call be from Stitch or his brother saying ―
Her stomach lurched at the idea.
She stumbled into the half bath and released her dinner. After a while of emptying her stomach contents, she rinsed her mouth out in the sink, then brushed her teeth.
Over two weeks ago, the devilishly, handsome, man helped her off his big rumbling bike. He kissed her and said he’d see her again soon, and just as soon, blared down the long driveway.
She looked at herself in the mirror and winced at her state. Nanny forced her to do basic self-care after the first-time things were extended.
She made her way back into the kitchen.
She wiped down the counters which she’d bleached only that morning, but there was some water from the dishes she dirtied to make dinner.
She had no idea the details of what Devlin was up to, but she knew it was dangerous. If it wasn’t, he wouldn’t have insisted on her being away. What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Devlin Sinn? She scolded in her head while she made history of the dirt and the top layer of lacquer on the wooden countertop.
It didn’t really bother her so much having to rearrange her life to keep him at ease with her safety. She was most concerned about him. Would he come back to her? If he didn’t, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. She lost him once, and she wasn’t planning on losing him again.
“You shouldn’t fret so, and you should stop doing all this moving around, child, goodness.” Nanny laughed. “You’re worse than me when Benny and I get to fighting, and he goes off to cool himself down.” The woman let out a sound of joy. “You’re a quick study. Look at these pie crusts. Golden brown!” She held one up to the light.
Lacey didn’t stop her smile, mostly because it was genuine. “I used to cook con mi abuela. All sorts of things. Pies were never my best work, but you’re a good teacher.”
“When the student is ready, the teacher appears. Isn’t that the way the phrase goes?”
“That sounds about ri―” Lacey’s words stopped in her throat, when she heard a bike roaring up the drive. She tossed down the towel and sprinted to the door.
Her chest tightened when she saw Devlin whipping a leg over the big bike. Before she realized it, she heard his startled grunt and felt herself hold tight to his solid body, her lips smashed to his.
She pulled away enough to gaze into his dark eyes and hers started to well up.
He frowned. “Why the hell are you crying?”
She shrugged. “I was worried something might have gone wrong.”
Her ass felt at home cradled in his big hands. Her arms around his neck, playing with his low bun on the back of his neck. She didn’t even realize her legs were wrapped around his waist.
“Despite the fact that my entire body feels like the Devil spitfire under my skin, I think I’m okay.”
He set her down, and she used that opportunity to look him over.
“My God, you’re bleeding!” She grabbed his hand, and led him inside the house. The sun was just starting to fade out the sky, which meant Ben had already started a small fire. It was springtime and the days were mostly nice. It was the evening that got a little cool.
“Luckily, it’s not all my blood. Another brother got shot. He’s being tended to, though.”
Right inside the door, she turned toward him with a deep frown. “Is this how it’s going to be? You drop me off here while you go get shot at and come back with who knows what kind of holes in you, scrapes, scratches, and cuts?”
He slipped his hand around the nape of her neck and held her. “Maybe.” His rough voice rumbled through her body and made her nipples tighten. She hated what he did to her, especially when she was trying to be stern and disapproving. Yet, she couldn’t also help but want him to claim her.
“Michael, well, come on in, will you? Don’t hover in the doorway. Ben wants to hear how everything went.”
Devlin held her for another moment before letting her neck go, and taking her hand, leading them into the living room.
Nanny was sitting on a chair near Ben, sipping on a cup of tea in the living room.
“Things didn’t go at all according to plan. The pricks we were dealing with were trying to swipe the loot from under another club’s nose and that shit blew up in our faces.”
“Awe shit.” Benny mumbled. “How’d you get out of it?”
“DEA came through.”
“They’re pissed because things didn’t go down the way it was planned. The Hyann’s dock is shut down for investigation which is what we wanted.” He wiped his hand down his face exhaustion clinging to his strong body. “It’s not all over, but it’s a big start. Momentum is in the right direction.” He pulled Lacey into his side and kissed the top of her head. “Thank you for keeping an eye on her.”
Ben laughed. “She can stress-clean here any time she likes.”
“I’d love to give you more details, but I need to clean up first.” He pointed to a bandage around his waist that was leaking through. He pulled Lacey to the stairs with him.
“What do you need her for?” The play in the old woman’s voice didn’t go unnoticed.
“Someone’s gotta get these cuts cleaned up, and I couldn’t think of a better nurse.”
He kissed Lacey before she could respond in any way, for or against what he was saying, then pulled her up close in his arms. He slowed the kiss before pulling away slowly. He stroked her back, along her sides, grazed a breast, then frowned and stepped back to look her over.
“Hmm.” He said. “Maybe I should leave you up here more often.” He grabbed her ass and pressed her to him.
She swallowed. “Telling a pregnant woman she’s fat is most inadvisable, even when followed up by a well-placed ass grab.” She glanced up at him from under her lashes.
The man frowned, debating in his eyes whether he heard her correctly. He tilted his head to the side.
“Fuck you say?” He let her go and crossed his arms, then scratched his head.
Terror held her voice hostage. She had no idea how he’d react, which was why she didn’t tell him while he was off on his mission. “You, Mr. Sinn, are going to be a fath―”
Their mouths were pressed together, and she was up in his arms, giggling before she could get the words all the way out. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and he carried her somewhere upstairs.
He laid her on a bed. She hoped it wasn’t Nanny & Ben’s. “You know all I’m going to do now is fuck you so we can have babies, right?” Her care about whose bed it belonged to didn’t matter when he started kissing up her leg, peeling off her leggings and panties, pulled her top over her head, unclasped her bra.
His answer was a growl before his shirt was gone, pants and underwear a pile on the floor, and he was nestled between her bare open legs. She wrapped them around him and tilted her pelvis toward him. He kissed her neck.
“I told you you’d have my sons.” He flexed his hips, sliding his penis between her slick folds.
She let out a choked laughing moan. “Sons? I thought there was just one.”
He shook his head. “I need at least five.”
Another shocked laugh. She was certain she’d never hear the man talking about a son, let alone more than one. She wasn’t even certain how he’d take her being pregnant. It was exciting and terrifying because she’d been pregnant once before, but her child―
She arched her back with a moan when he sucked a nipple in his mouth.
“F-five!” She stammered, her mind finally catching up to the conversation again. “Don’t I have a say?”
He shook his head, then pulled away enough to hold her eyes in his dark bottomless ones. “I told you a long while back.” He brushed her hair out her face and gazed down at her.
Her chest filled with warmth. She saw in the depths of those deep, dark orbs his true deep affection toward her. “I said then if you’d have me, you’d have all of me or nothing.” He stroked her face then gently clasped her neck as he slid his penis inside her.
She gasped and moaned at his intrusion. Her eyes closed, clearly seeing, in her mind’s eye, the moment he truly impaled her defenses. The moment he claimed her life. The moment she opened herself up to his sweet possession. The chill she felt when his voice first assaulted her, caressed her, claimed her. Five years couldn’t dull the memory.
His hand slipped around her neck and he flexed his fingers sending energy through her body. “Lacey, look at me.”
Her eyes struggled open to obey his command. Her body was loose like rubber under heat.
She loved when he grabbed her neck. It was so personal, so aggressive. She rejected the sensation at first same as the man that delivered it. But she dreamed about it, about him more often than she’d ever admit.
His hand slipped the rest of the way around her neck to cup the nape and he rested his forehead on hers. He pulled out and pushed into her forcing a sighing moan to whisper past her lips.
“I meant that shit,” he ground out, continuing to slide in and out of her at an increased pace. “And I’m going to show you just how much I’m yours.”