Page 26 of Right Next Door (Stone Family #3)

“Haven’t yet.” I sit back, forcing her to shift even closer to me. “The best is yet to come.”

She studies me, eyes making a slow trek over my face, and I love how she is here—freely touching me, my beard, my chest, my arms.

Bold.

“What about your ex?”

Very bold.

“My ex?” I slide my fingers over the ink I gave Nicole. “You interested in learning about my marriage?”

It’s wishful thinking to hope she’s jealous of my past relationships. Because I’m downright envious of the motherfucker she’s currently married to.

She nods. “I heard stories, but I want to get it straight from the source.”

“What have you heard?” When she bites her lip, afraid to be honest, I give in to a rueful chuckle. “Whatever it is, it’s probably true.”

“So she really believes cell phones give people brain tumors?”

“Yeah, that is one of her more tinfoil-y beliefs.”

I link Nicole’s fingers with mine and lay it all out there. “I was working in an auto body shop when we met. She was from a well-to-do family. In hindsight, I think she liked me because I was different…dirty.”

Nicole frowns. “What, like, the bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks?”

I run my hand over my beard a few times. “Yeah. Raised by a single mom, drunk for a father. I had no money and was working two jobs between the shop and learning how to tattoo.”

“So what happened?”

“I fell for her. She was as eccentric as she was beautiful, and for a kid who’d worked every day since he was fourteen, she was a breath of fresh air. At twenty-two years old, she became everything to me.”

From the set of Nicole’s shoulders and the pinch of her mouth, I think maybe she is jealous, and I tug on a lock of her hair.

“She was always into hippie-dippie shit. Was into crystals before they became cool and made her own deodorant. She loved nature and was truly granola-crunchy. Like, all these moms out there now on social media? Heather was the original. That’s why our kids are named after things in nature.

I didn’t mind because her heart was in the right place. ”

Nicole is quiet beside me, listening intently, and even though we’re talking about my ex-wife, it doesn’t feel at all awkward. I want her to know about Heather, like I want to know all of Nicole’s history.

“We were happy, and we had our three kids, but…” I shake my head in dismay of the past. “She ran this nature camp for kids with disabilities, and one day, she had June with her there. On their way home, a deer ran out into the road. Heather swerved off into an embankment. She had a concussion and a broken bone or two, but Juniper spent weeks in critical condition.”

Nicole gasps softly, her fingers tightening around mine. “That’s awful.”

“Heather couldn’t handle it. I don’t know if she blamed herself or what, but she changed.

She suddenly got really into bizarre, nonsense kind of medical stuff.

She didn’t want to listen to the doctors and tried all these off-the-wall remedies.

At first, I thought it was a phase, you know?

We had this huge scare with our daughter almost dying.

It would shake anybody up, but she kept going further and further down the rabbit hole, and the more she tried to push it on the kids, especially June, the more impatient I got with her.

Homemade cleaning supplies and fermenting your own yogurt is one thing, but starting to preach about the horrors of big pharma and how they have the cure for cancer but don’t use it so they can keep making money is something else.

She wouldn’t even use sunscreen. Wouldn’t put it on the kids.

Didn’t want them eating anything store-bought and freaked out about them playing with any other kids because they’d be ‘poisoned.’ She wanted them isolated, and when I gave her an ultimatum, thinking it would wake her up, she chose to leave. ”

Nicole slowly shakes her head, blinking like she can’t believe it. That’s how I felt when I was going through it. It’s hard to believe. How a well-educated, capable person could fall for conspiracy theories.

“So, we divorced. I thought she’d fight me for custody, but I think she was so far gone at that point, she packed her bags and left.”

“And opened up a wellness camp?”

I nod. “It’s essentially a cult. She’d argue it’s a healthy living commune—” I quirk my fingers over those last few words to quote them “—but she’s making money off these people who really do believe they’ll be cured of whatever ails them if only they eat a raw diet and shun Western medicine.”

Nicole smooths her hand up over my chest to my neck, her fingers raking through my hair. “How do your kids feel about all that?”

“Each one of them feels differently about her, but now as adults, they know what her beliefs are. I never talked bad about her in front of them. I was very careful not to do that, but cell phones are banned at her camp. There is one phone in the whole place, and they can make calls once a week. She used to call the kids, ask them to visit, but they pretty quickly lost interest in her, especially when she wouldn’t let them do the things they loved.

” I lift a shoulder. “My mom moved in with me to help when Heather moved out, and since then, I’ve always made sure to keep my family close. Keep everyone together.”

Having my father leave and then my wife, it did something to my psyche.

Made me adamant about doing everything in my power to keep those I love close.

Because I don’t think I’d be able to stand it if another walked out on me.

It doesn’t matter that my father is an asshole and my ex-wife has straw for brains, it hurts watching someone you love walk away.

“You’re a good man, Ian Stone,” Nicole says, brushing over my beard, her fingertips grazing my bottom lip with every stroke.

I am so gone for this woman, it will kill me when she walks away. And all my work to keep my family together will be for nothing if she’s not part of it.

But I am unable to verbalize any of that. Not when she is still married and I’m terrified of hearing her say I am not what she wants. That I am simply a detour in her life.

So I allow myself a caress of her face, knuckles tracing the curve of her cheek and down to the line of her jaw, memorizing it for later.

For all the days and nights I won’t be able to touch her like this.

When I’m a sad old man, I’ll be able to remember what it felt like to sit next to Nicole at a fancy restaurant while she wore a red dress and gazed up at me like I was the center of her world.

Our food arrives then, and we shift topics to lighter things. But a new layer remains between us, a tether of understanding that holds us together. It binds us as easily as everything else has.

We share the house-made raspberry sorbet for dessert, and after I pay the bill, I lead her outside, my hand on the small of her back. From my teasing all night, she’s practically vibrating, goose bumps rising any time I graze her with the mere tip of my finger.

She’s primed, and according to the way she reacts when I kiss her against my car, she’s desperate.

I slip my hand beneath the fabric of her dress, spreading her pussy with my fingers, finding her wet and ready.

She moans into my mouth, body arching into mine, and it takes almost nothing for me to make her twitch.

I bring her right to the brink in seconds, only to stop.

I won’t let her come. Not yet.

She whines as I pull away, but she doesn’t say a word when I open the door for her. I get behind the wheel, sweeping my gaze over her, her parted lips, the outlines of her peaked nipples through the material of her dress, the way she’s rubbing her thighs together.

“You ready to play?” I ask, and she nods.

Sweet as honey. “Yes, sir.”

Maneuvering us back to the highway, I place my hand on her thigh, roughly pulling it toward me, forcing her legs open. “I want you to touch yourself.” She hesitates, and I push her dress up higher. “Fingers on your clit to start.”

She eventually does what I tell her to, slumping a little in her seat, her left hand holding up the hem of her dress, the other sliding between her legs where I can’t see, but I know from her quick audible intake of breath, she’s following my direction.

I rub her leg as she works her clit. “Keep going, nice and easy until you come.”

She whimpers, muscles tense under my palm, and a minute later, she’s coming with a rushed breath and arched neck.

“Good girl,” I rasp, wishing we could teleport, so I can finally have my mouth on her like I want. “Again. This time, I want your fingers inside. Use both hands if you need to. I want you to come again.”

She swivels her head to me, as if she needs more of an explanation.

“You come when I want you to, whenever, wherever, and however many times I want.” I squeeze her thigh. “Go on. Another one.”

She shifts and squirms, her left hand moving between her legs, and I groan in the back of my throat, imagining her fingers circling her clit and pushing inside her. Warm and wet and tight.

I know exactly what she’s feeling.

I wish I could feel it again.

“You like that?” I ask, even though I don’t need to. Her moans are enough.

“Mm-hmm.”

“You gonna come like a good girl?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Show me. Show me how well you listen to me.”

Seconds later, she’s coming like the good fucking girl she is. I grind my molars, my cock hard in my pants, and I carefully change lanes, heading toward the exit.

“Fuck, you’re sexy, you know that?”

She huffs as if I’m kidding. I’m not.

“You know how amazing it is that you’re so open with me? That you’re not afraid? Turns me the fuck on. Now do it again. I want you so wet you’re soaking the seat.”

Which is fucking outrageous because I spent a lot of money on this leather. But fuck it.

I want Nicole more than I want anything else in my life.

She slams her head back against the rest, and I’m quick to find the familiar overlook I spotted on our way here as she brings herself to orgasm one more time.

“Give me your hands,” I say, reaching for her wrists. She lets me pull them toward my mouth, sucking off the sticky arousal from her fingers. She tastes like salt and earth and all my favorite things, and I can’t wait anymore. “Out of the car.”

I damn near slam my door closed, my cock painfully hard as I meet her at the hood, putting my hands on her waist to lift her up on it.

I toss her shoes off, place her soles on the hood, and push her dress all the way up.

Under the night sky, I can see the outline of her body, though she’s still mostly in shadow.

“You’re my fantasy,” I tell her, cupping my hands around her thighs, holding them open. “I’ve always dreamed of fucking a girl on my car, and now I’m gonna eat you out until you’re screaming. I’m gonna give you as many orgasms as I want. You good with that?”

She breathes out a single strained laugh.

“I’m not kidding, Nicole. I need a yes or no. Because this is the easy stuff. What I’m about to do to you, it’s nothing, but if you can’t give me an enthusiastic yes now, you definitely won’t later.”

“Yes,” she says after a stunned moment. “I didn’t think you were serious?—”

I don’t let her go on, too fucking jacked up to care about how loud she is when I first put my mouth on her, licking up the length of her pussy. She can scream all night long, wake up everyone in a five-mile radius, I don’t care.

I want her to.

I want as many people as possible to know that she’s mine.

At least for right now, in this moment.

No matter what happens after this, I’ll always have this fantasy brought to life.

Her fingers in my hair.

My tongue lapping against her clit.

Her cries filling my ears.

She comes with only my mouth, and I don’t bother to clean off my face when I raise my head to swipe my fingers over her soaked flesh, sliding them inside to find that swollen spot to really make her scream.

“That’s it, baby,” I coo, both proud of her for letting go and grateful for her trust. “You’re so sweet like this. Let me hear you.”

She mindlessly pulls at her hair, hips bucking as she rides it out, and I barely let her come down before my mouth is on her again, relentlessly flicking at her clit and rubbing at the swollen spot inside her, squeezing her thigh so hard I think she might wake up with marks tomorrow.

But she’s wriggling all over, and I struggle to keep her still until I push my palm down right above her pelvic bone.

It sends her over the edge, and she orgasms with a rush of liquid and a squeak of surprise.

“What was that?”

“You came again. Like I wanted you to,” I say against the crease of her hip.

“No.” She sits up, the whites of her eyes huge, her skin glowing in the moonlight. “What happened?”

That’s when I finally wipe my dry palm over my mouth and beard. “You squirted.”

“No, I didn’t.” She sounds mad about it.

I can’t help my laugh. “You did.”

“I didn’t. That’s not…a thing.”

“It is a thing, and I made you do it.” I incline my head with intention. “I’ll do it again.”

She holds both hands out, stopping me. “Ian.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. I like it. I?—”

“I’ve never done it before,” she interrupts quietly.

“I figured.” I wipe at my mouth again, but it’ll be a while before I get her flavor off me. Good . “I’ll show you a lot of things you’ve never done before.”

She moves, bringing her legs together, obviously working through something, so I give her a minute before I ask, “All right?”

Eventually, she meets my gaze, a pretty red stain on her cheeks. “Yes, sir.”

“More?” I ask, and she nods before correcting herself.

“Yes, please.”

I bow my head. “For as long as you’ll have me, I’ll take care of you.”

And later, when I’m in bed with her scent and taste still all over me, I finally give in and come too.