Where We Belong Page 4


Smiling, my chest swelling with pride, I glance up at Mia, then look back at my son. “You got plenty of time, Nolan. Don’t worry about getting any girl’s name tattooed on you until you know you’re marrying her, okay?”

He slides off my lap. “First girl I like, I’m marrying,” he mumbles, climbing back into his seat and resuming his drawing. Another castle, by the looks of it.

Jesus. I hope that isn’t the case. How many fucking mistakes did I make before I wised up and went after what was in front of me most of my life? Angie being the biggest slip-up, though I’ll never regret what resulted from our one drunken night together. I wouldn’t have Nolan if it wasn’t for that massive error in judgement.

It’s a strange thing, hating someone but living for what they gave you. Having Nolan changed my life. I’d never take it back. That doesn’t change or lessen my feelings toward his mother. In my opinion, she doesn’t deserve to live. I don’t care how harsh that is. I’ll die hating that bitch. She nearly took my entire world away from me.

Mia bumps her hip against my arm. “He’s just like you,” she whispers, her eyes falling over my shoulder. “He loves with every part of him.”

I grab Mia’s waist and pull her into my lap, wrapping my arms around her and tucking her as close to my body as I can get her. I bury my face into her neck and breathe.

Just. Fucking. Breathe.

I close my eyes, moaning when she runs her fingers along my scalp.

“You tired, babe?”

“Mm.” I nod a bit, rubbing her back.

Truth is, I’m fucking exhausted. The muscles in my back and shoulders feel tight. My head is pounding, courtesy of the last call we got, and the woman who yelled in my ear for twenty fucking minutes about her ex stealing money out of her safe and threatening to hit her. Luke handled him while I tried to calm her down. Didn’t work. She was still screaming to no one in particular when we pulled away from the house.

I just want to sleep. I need it after the night I’ve had, but fuck, I want this more.

Turns out, Mia plans on deciding for me.

She stands and tugs my arm, getting me out of the chair. “Nolan, watch your brother for a minute. If he drops his cup, pick it up for him, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Nolan nods, leaning on the table and coloring in his drawing.

I’m led down the hallway and pulled into our bedroom. Mia walks around the bed to the window, closing the blinds and drawing the curtains.

“Long night?” she asks, going to the bed. She pulls down the comforter and sheet on my side.

I step further into the room. “Yeah,” I answer, rubbing at my face. “Fuck, though, I don’t want to sleep, Mia. I don’t need it.”

Sleep or her? My choice is incredibly simple.

She looks up at me, those big brown eyes going soft. “Come here,” she whispers.

I start unbuttoning my shirt as I round the bed to get to her.

“Don’t. Let me do it.”

She brushes my hands away and takes over, starting at my collar and working her way down to my belt. She looks up at me and untucks my shirt, then sucks on her fat bottom lip as she pushes it off of my shoulders.

I start breathing heavy, my need for her sparking in my gut like a live wire, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides.

She grabs the hem of my white T-shirt and lifts it up my ribs. I take over and reach behind me, pulling it off and tossing it onto the floor. Then her hands are on me, rubbing my abs, my chest, wrapping around my biceps and squeezing.

I watch her stare at me, the way Mia has always stared at my body. Her eyes wide and absorbing, taking in every inch of me, lingering on the ink covering my arm, her name above my hip, and the muscles cut into my skin, looking like she’s never seen anything more beautiful before. It makes me feel conceited as fuck. I’m not an arrogant guy. I never gave a shit about what women thought of my body, even though I’ve always busted my ass staying in shape.

But Mia? Fuck, yeah, I want to be beautiful for her. I want her to always look at me like this.

She presses her lips to my chest.

My blood runs warm, warmer when her hands tug at my belt.

“I missed you,” she says, coming up on her toes and kissing my jaw. “So much, babe.”

I grab her face, guiding her mouth to mine, kissing her as my pants hit the floor. “Baby,” I moan, my breath hitching when she squeezes my hips, so close to my throbbing cock that’s pressing against her stomach.

She pushes against my chest. “On the bed.”

Fuck, yes. Finally.

I sit on the edge, ready to sink back onto the mattress for the ride of my life when she climbs behind me and wraps her arms around my front.

She sighs, kissing my neck and shoulder where the tiny scar mars my skin from when I was shot. Her hands spread across my chest. “The boys and I are going to the store in a bit so you’ll have some quiet. Try and sleep as much as you can.”

I look down at my cock tenting my boxers. “Angel, you just got me real fucking hard, and you expect me to sleep?”

“How?” she giggles. “From undressing you?”

I shake my head. “Living, Mia. Just you being here, loving me, fucking walking around this house wearing my ring and being mine . . . Jesus, yeah, I’m tired baby, but I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Not now. Not when I can be with you.”

She presses her front to my back, squeezing me tighter and moving her lips to my ear. “You, Benjamin Kelly, can be so sweet when you want to be.”

I grunt. “I’m sweet to you all the time.”

“Sometimes you’re just dirty.”

I turn my head. Our eyes lock. “You want dirty now?”

She purses her lips, fighting a smile. “No.”

“No?”

“I want you to get some rest.”

Leaning in, she seals our lips together, sucking on my tongue when I force it into her mouth, moaning a little and pressing her heavy tits against my back.

“You’re going to need it, Ben,” she whispers. “I’m going to ride you so fucking hard, you’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow. And not just your cock, babe. I’m riding this sweet fuck-me mouth too.”

Jesus FUCK.

Groaning, I palm my dick, feeling like I could come right now just from the filth spilling past those perfect fucking lips.

“But only if you sleep.”

Kissing me one last time, she slips off the bed and scurries to the door.

What?

“Damn it, Mia,” I growl, falling back onto the bed, turning my head and watching her lean against the door frame and blow me a kiss. My body goes lax, sinking into the mattress. Fuck, it feels good to lay down. “I don’t need sleep,” I tell her, yawning at the end of my protest, rubbing at my face again and rolling over. “Not tired, Angel.”

I am so fucking tired.

My eyes close. I reach blindly for the pillow Mia used last night and press it against my nose.

Berries and cream. Fucking heaven right here.

“I love you.”

Mia’s soft voice and the latch of the door closing is the last thing I hear before sleep easily pulls me under.

 

I RUB A TOWEL OVER my head and down my arms, absorbing the water from my skin as I stand in the bathroom.

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