Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
“You did good,” she murmurs. “You protected her.”
“I violated a court order. What if I’ve fucked us over?”
“We have to have faith in the social worker. She was there. She saw the situation. She’ll back you up.”
“But what if she doesn’t?” I rub my forehead, feeling stressed. I need to drink, bang on my drums, cry, fight, smoke, or fuck; and since only one of those options is currently available to me in this hallway, the very best one, I pick up Aubrey by her ass and carry her to my bedroom, kissing her passionately as we go.
When I reach my bed, I lay her down, peel off her clothes and mine, and breathlessly open the drawer of my nightstand to pull out a condom.
“No need,” Aubrey whispers hoarsely. “Come here. I want you inside me.”
She doesn’t need to ask me twice. I don’t know if that means Aubrey’s on some type of birth control, or if she’s saying she’s willing to risk getting knocked up by me. But, frankly, it doesn’t matter which it is, because, suddenly, other than getting custody of my daughter and living here in LA with both her and Aubrey, I can’t think of anything I’d enjoy more than putting a baby inside Aubrey fucking Capshaw.
I sit on the edge of the bed with my hard cock straining toward the ceiling, and Aubrey straddles me and slides herself onto my full length without delay or hesitation.
“You did so good,” she whispers, her palms on either side of my face and her eyes boring into mine. “You protected your baby girl today, exactly like a good father should.”
I grip her for dear life, praying she’s right about that, and Aubrey rides me, kisses me, and coaxes me with whispered words, like I’m a runaway, wild stallion, and she’s gently luring me back to the barn.
“Aubrey,” I grit out, digging my fingers into her bare back. “I’m sorry, baby.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” She grabs my face, presses her forehead to mine. “Caleb.”
Holy fuck. This feels electric. I’ve never been honest like this. Not completely. I’ve always doled out half-truths to protect myself. Kept my mouth shut, when speaking wasn’t in my best interest. But with Aubrey, complete honesty is the only option. “Aubrey,” I whisper tightly, as my pleasure spikes and threatens to shove me over the abyss.
“I’ve got you, baby,” Aubrey whispers, her voice breathless and on the verge of breaking. She’s never called me baby before, I don’t think. I’ve called her that, countless times; but not the other way around. And for some reason, hearing the word out of her mouth feels like she’s electrocuting my nerve endings in the best possible way.
Gasping for air, I touch her clit as she gyrates on top of me, desperate for her to come before I lose control. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long before Aubrey grips my shoulders, hard, and unleashes an orgasm that squeezes my hard cock inside her with such blissful force, I’m momentarily blinded by pleasure.
“Aubrey,” I grit out, as my release overwhelms me. The word isn’t enough, but it’s the best I can do for now. A necessary stand-in for what I really want to say in this watershed moment: I love you, Aubrey Capshaw. And, baby, I’m positive I always will.
Chapter 31
Aubrey
“Ralph is the best guy I know. A real stand-up guy.”
This is the testimony of Ralph Beaumont’s third character witness of the morning—another ride-or-die of Ralph’s who made the trip to LA from Prairie Springs for the hearing. The first guy knew Ralph from church; the second guy was his much older brother; and this third guy worked with Ralph on the police force for years.
It’s been easy for me to tell all three witnesses are full of shit. Hopefully, the judge—a no-nonsense Black woman in a black robe—can easily see that, too, since she’s the one who’ll be making the decision today. Thankfully, the judge blocked all cameras and the public from attending this hearing, so only people directly involved are in attendance. Except, of course, that the little girl at the center of this firestorm isn’t here today. Raine is safely tucked away in a small room down the hall, blissfully coloring or watching a cartoon with my mother and a social worker.
For the past fifteen minutes or so, Caleb’s attorney, Paula, has been cross-examining Ralph’s third character witness, the same way she did his first two. “Ralph promised you financial gain, in exchange for your favorable testimony today, didn’t he?” Paula asks with narrowed eyes and a chest full of confidence.
“No, ma’am,” the guy says. “I’m here because Ralph’s a good friend of mine, and it’s my firm belief the child should be with her grandfather.”
It’s the same exchange, basically, Paula had with Ralph’s first two character witnesses, and I don’t believe this third guy any more than the others. I glance at Caleb sitting next to me at our table, and, not surprisingly, he looks as disdainful as I feel. Except, in Caleb’s case, his disdain is manifesting as downright rage. Indeed, Caleb looks like a volcano on the cusp of erupting.