Morrison (Caldwell Brothers #2) (13 page)

“Morrison,” she whimpers.

“Yeah, babe?”
I say as I open my eyes and stroke myself, looking into her hooded gaze. “You want it?”

She nods her head, once.

“Lose the pants and plant that ass on the bar.” She hesitates. “Babe.”

Once she stands and drops her pants, then turns to climb on the bar, I grab her from behind before she has the chance to turn around. I push her thong to the side and rub my finger up and down her wet seam.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” Before she has a chance to say shit, I take that ass in my hands and kiss that fine, little round globe that’s sticking up in the air. “Sexiest ass I have ever seen in my fucking life.”

I run my tongue down her seam, and she arches her back.

“You want that pussy licked, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she moans.

“Thank fuck. Roll over now. Slow, babe. I want to worship that ass soon,
but if you want me to eat your pussy, I’m gonna eat that pussy.” She is sitting on the bar now. “Feet over my shoulders.”

She does as I ask, and my restraint is out the fucking door. While I suck on her swollen lips and rub my tongue up and down each side, her body shudders as she grips the edge of the bar.

I slowly work my tongue up and down her without diving in. She squirms and gives muffled
moans, letting me know I am driving her wild. Hell, I’m driving myself wild.

Then I shove my tongue inside her, and she cries out, “Morrison! Oh, God.”

The jukebox starts up on its own every twenty minutes, and it does so now. “Skin” by Rihanna begins, the perfect fucking song.

My tongue keeps rhythm with the song in a slow dance, the perfect tease. My mouth covers her as I reach up and push
her shirt up, watching her face flush and her eyes flutter. Ecstasy. Pure fucking raw pleasure. God, I love making her feel this way.

She pulls her shirt the rest of the way off, and I grip her thighs, pulling them farther apart as I suck on her clit, and she cries out again. Her hips are now grinding into my face as I lick harder, suck harder, and then push two fingers into her quivering pussy.

“I want you. Oh, God, please,” she begs, but I’m not done eating that pussy, fingering it, tasting her. I want to drive her over the edge one more time, so I do.

When I have had my fill for now, I pull her up.

“I need to taste those tits.” I don’t wait for a reply; I just take them. When I stop for a minute, I look up at her. “No man in their right fucking mind wouldn’t want you to be his, Hailey.
You’re so fucking beautiful, gorgeous, perfect.”

She closes her eyes.

“I need in, babe. I need to feel you from the inside.”

She wraps her arms around my neck as I lift her.

“Mouth—give it to me.”

I lick inside her mouth as I hold her bare ass in my hands, kneading it, squeezing it.

“Want that ass bad, babe. So fucking bad.” My mouth crashes over hers, and her hands fist in my hair.

She
reaches between us and grabs my cock, stroking it, and then she rubs it against her hot little snatch.

“Gotta wrap it, babe.”

“I’m on birth control,” she pants. “You clean?”

“Squeaky. You?”

“Yes.”

Before she can say another word, I turn and push her against the cooler door, grip her hips, and bring her down hard on my cock. She cries out and then bites into my shoulder.

“Sorry, babe, missed
it so”—I thrust in hard—“fucking”—again—“much!”

I hammer into her harshly, but I know damn well she likes it, ’cause she comes again and again until I finally join her.

“Feels so fucking good filling you. Fuck! Won’t stop. Can’t. Fucking. Stop.”

“Then don’t. Take it, Morrison. Take what you need.”

She whimpers as I come again, harder this time.

Then I hold her tight as we fight to catch our
breath. Laying my lips against her neck and tasting her skin, I smell her sweet scent, and I am hard again.

“Babe?”

“Wow,” she says, a little shocked.

“Gonna fuck you again.”

“Yes, make it hard.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Could you get any fucking better?” I don’t wait for a reply. “Gonna bend you over a bar stool so I can watch that ass. We good?”

“Yes. S
o
good.”

She’s walking funny when she
comes out of the bathroom, and I can’t help smirking. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes.

“Still feeling me?” I ask as I take her hand.

“You know I am.” She smiles a little.

We leave, and I lock the door. I walk her to her car, where I take her keys and unlock her door, then open it for her.

I tug her hand hard enough to bring her back to facing me. “You know my number.”

“Yeah.”

“Think
you could use it?” She nods. “This is your game, babe. If you want me, you call me. See you on Wednesday, regardless.”

She smiles. “Okay.”

I saw her both Friday and Saturday at the bar, then had cards on Monday and made some bank. Mondays are gonna help the cause out a great deal. Over the weekend I called a real estate agent in Atlantic City and listed my pad. Tuesday, I grabbed the laptop
and got lost in how to start a business. I looked at a few places and realized I could do this. It wasn’t just a dream; shit was gonna be real.

Wednesday, I found my building, four blocks from the bar. Three stories and the top floor already has a large loft apartment. It’s okay, but I’ll make it better.

“What do you think?” the banker Townsman asks.

“Looks okay. Needs a lot of work.”

“Well,
that happens. People know they’re losing something, and they stop giving a shit. The economy sucks, so we haven’t put much into it. The bones are good, though, a solid structure. It’s a steal for the right person.”

I don’t want to sound too eager. “You’re asking two hundred thousand for a place that needs almost that much put into it to make it a go.”

He looks down at the file in his hand. “As
I said, it’s worth it.”

I stick out my hand, and he shakes it. “I’ll think about it.”

He hesitates but doesn’t give me what I want. His tell is the hesitation. He’ll cave.

I roll up to Hailey’s and jump out just as they are leaving. Hailey looks hot as hell in her black tank top, loose-fitting cargo pants, and her hair in low pigtails that hang over her shoulders.

“You were almost late.” Marisa
wags her finger at me.

“Sorry, little miss thing.” I wag mine right back. “Had a meeting, but I’m here.”

I give Hailey the normal half hug, but this time, I smell her hair. “Damn,” I whisper against her ear.

She steps back and looks at me. “Meeting?”

“Yep.” I grab up the little one and throw her over my shoulder. “Have a good night at work, little momma.”

Marisa giggles. “Have a good night
at work, little momma. I’m going on a date.”

“Make sure she’s buckled, and she needs to be in bed a little early; we have a
meeting
tomorrow.”

I look back at her. “Meeting?”

“Yep,” she says as she smirks and walks away.

“You need to be a daddy.” Marisa yawns as she snuggles up against me.

“You think so?” I ask, starting to close the book.

“Well, maybe not. My perfect daddy would read
two more books.”

I laugh to myself. “Which book would he read next?”

She sits up and reaches over to her nightstand. “This one.”

“Well, I guess I can read one more.”

She holds two fingers up. “Two more, ’member?”

“I ’member all right.” I tickle her under her chin, then open the book. “Once upon a time…”

“Tell me something good, Hailey,” Jared instructs as I set his drink in front of him. I quirk an eyebrow at him, and he reads my nonanswer. “Girl, you got good, so tell me something good.”

“I got my place, thanks to you.”

“No thanks to me. I’m a selfish bastard who wants to have a good-lookin’ neighbor.” He winks as he tips the glass back.

“What they say about kids is true—they’re
resilient. Marisa seems to be adjusting fine. In fact, this may be the happiest I’ve ever seen her. Between her time with Sally, Livi, and those Caldwell boys, she gets more attention now than ever before. Plus, we have this neighbor who helps us feel safe, and she loves baking cookies for him.” I smile, thinking how nice it is to have someone I’m comfortable with next door.

“Need another drink
on that one, Hailey. I’m glad to see y’all happy. Gotta know I haven’t always kept the people close to me safe. I’m not dependable for that. Those Caldwell boys, though, they’ll keep an eye on ya.”

“Jared, in all the things I’ve been through, you’re one of the most dependable people I know.”

“Got a past, woman. It’s not one lined in jokes or fairy tales. It’s dark, it’s ugly, and it’s all my
own doing.”

I pour him another shot and lean in. “Wanna talk about it?”

“When you can bring the dead back to life, then we can talk. Until then, just know you’re family to the Caldwells, and they’ll take care of you.”

“Well, Jared, you’re family to me now, and I wanna take care of you.”

“A different day, a different time, maybe things could be different. They aren’t, though, so we play the
hand we’re dealt—much like you, little momma.” Jared smirks as he calls me by Morrison’s nickname for me. “When the cards in your hand are strong, hold on to them, don’t toss them aside and risk losing it all. Morrison is good. Hailey, play the hand with him and see where it goes—that’s all I’m trying to tell you.”

“You are a wise man, Jared.”

“Lived once, Hailey. Loved once, deeply. Lost it
all…down a bottle, no less. I come here to escape it. Only, in you, I see this woman who’s beautiful, strong, independent, and scared out of her fucking mind. So, instead of drinking my day away and tossing around one-liners, I want to help you to see what everyone else can see in you. We’re
all
pulling for you to let down your guard, and at the same time not silently jump at your own damn shadow.
Livi’s been there. She got through it, and you will, too.”

As I finish my shift, I think hard on Jared’s words. Livi and I have grown close over my time here. Her panty-wearing, ass-rubbing brand of “crazy,” as Hendrix calls it, is inspiring. I don’t know the details of her past, but I can see her future, and it’s full of hope, promise, and damn good things.

I sigh and whisper to the empty bar
as I close up, “Oh, Momma, where are you to talk to now?”

“Feel the same way most days, Hailey.” This comes from Jagger, who rounds the corner behind the bar after locking up the cash till for the night.

I never stopped to think about this monumental, common thing I share with Morrison—we both lost our moms. Mine was far from perfect, but at the end of every single day, she was my best friend.
We laughed, we talked until the sun came up more times than I can count, and in all the chaos, she never once let me feel alone. Even if she did convince me that being with Monte was a good thing, she was there to hold my hand and see me through the darkest times. I wasn’t alone until she was gone. Then Marisa came and filled my life once again. Only, Marisa doesn’t have the void of losing her
mother, like Morrison and I do. I hope she is old and gray before she faces that kind of loss.

I look at Jagger intently as he pours himself a shot. When he does the same for me, I shake my head no and lift up my car keys.

“I see a lot of her in you,” he says before tossing back his drink.

“That so?”

“Yup. Momma was a sassy spitfire right to the end. She had fight, Hailey, real fight”—he beats
against his chest—“the kind that comes from in here. You could’ve stayed with that Monte fucker, but you didn’t. You got out. You fought for your freedom, and more than that, you fought for your little girl. You got heart, Hailey.”

Tears fill my eyes. “I’m a mess, Jagger.”

“Not in the least bit. Gotta let people in, gotta let people help, Hailey. Morrison, he’ll give you the security you’ve
never had, but you gotta want that.”

“I do, but—”

“But nothing. Has my brother ever not given you a choice? The way I see it, he’s let you walk away. He’s stood back and given you space while keeping you and little one safe. You got a good job that you’re good at, and you work hard. You got your own place. You got your little girl safe and sound, away from the asshole who helped make her. You
are doing it all on your own. You let all of us in—Hendrix, Livi, me, and even Jared. Yet, you keep Morrison at a distance. I see it—you’ve got feelings, but you keep trying to fight them. Fight is good when it’s called for, but why fight the pull to Morrison? Why deny you both? You’re the dealer; you hold the cards in your hand.”

I lean against the bar, wishing I wasn’t driving. Shit is getting
deep, and I need to take the edge off.

“It’s not just me,” I whisper.

Jagger throws his head back and laughs. “Babe, that little girl of yours has us all wrapped around her little finger, but most especially my brother. Whether you and him can make a go of this or not, he’ll be in Marisa’s life.”

I think on it, realizing he’s right. Morrison Caldwell is the kind of man who will be around for
Marisa, no matter what.

We finish locking up, and then I make my way home and quietly enter my apartment.

Usually after their Wednesday night “dates,” Morrison is on the couch when I get in. Finding it empty, I make my way down the small hall to the soft light coming from Marisa’s room, and I smile as I hear him whispering.

“A long, long time ago…in a land far away from here,” he continues
reading the fairy tale as my chest tightens with emotion.

I hear the soft sounds of Marisa snoring, so I don’t know why Morrison is still reading, but I pay attention to the words.

“There was a beautiful little girl. She lived with her mom, who was the most gorgeous woman in all the land. These two were the hidden treasure given to the prince as a gift from his mother, the queen. They had to
hide away under the bright lights of Sin City until the prince was old enough to know the good inside them when he saw it.” Morrison pauses, and I lean against the wall to listen further. “He had to sow his wild oats and work out his own past, but his momma, the queen, she knew the man she had raised him to be. She knew that, when the time was right, he would become the man for this little girl and
her mom.”

Moving to the doorway so I can be seen, I take in the scene before me as I ask, “Is that so?”

There on my daughter’s tiny twin bed is Morrison, all six feet of him. His legs are crossed at the ankles, his head rests against the wall since Marisa doesn’t have a headboard, and his arms are crossed over his chest. His eyes are closed, and he seems lost in his thoughts, lost in his fairy
tale.

He doesn’t open his eyes, simply nods his head.

“Well”—I make my way to him—“do they live happily ever after?”

He opens his eyes and meets my stare. “I don’t know, Hailey. You tell me.”

I take him by the hand and lead him out to my living room, where we sit on the couch, him on the right side and me in the middle. Then I turn to face him with my legs tucked under me.

“Tell me about
the queen, Morrison,” I prompt, and he smiles sweetly.

“Oh, the queen…She was the Queen of Spades. She had love for her boys in spades, as the saying goes. But, ruled as she was by the King of Clubs, she had to take a backseat to his needs, wants, and desires. The only thing the tyrant ever gave her was her boys and a hard time. The Joker was wild all the time, you see. An unpredictable bastard,
the King of Clubs was not ashamed to rule his house with an iron fist. This left her three Jacks feeling helpless, and eventually, as the boys’ love and need to protect the queen grew, their resentment toward the king grew as well. In the end, life wasn’t aces, because the queen left this life to go to a better one, but she gave her boys a winning hand before she perished.” Reaching out, he cups
my chin and rubs his thumb over my cheek. “She left them with aces in their hands.”

I bite my bottom lip as I take in his words.

“The Ace of Diamonds—watching the queen work so hard, the boys developed the drive and ambition that can only be found in this card. The Ace of Clubs was her legacy of intelligence. Hailey, we can’t come up from nothing without first educating ourselves on the lay
of the land. The queen gave this to her boys. As a spade herself, she also gave them the Ace of Spades, wanting her boys to be fulfilled in life. She wanted them to be well rounded and strong. Her final card…the Ace of Hearts. The queen left her boys with a legacy of heart.”

“Your mom—” His thumb moves to cover my lips, silencing me.

“To be the good in this world full of bad—I made her that
promise, Hailey, and I damn sure meant every fuckin’ word of it. Life wasn’t easy watching our old man put his hands on her. Worse than that was listening to the way he talked to her. Every fucking day, nothing she ever did was right. Momma was strong, though. She didn’t let that eat at her. She didn’t let it wear her down. He may have held her back, but he damn sure didn’t break her.”

“I’m broken,
Morrison.” The admission comes out before I can stop myself.

He reaches over and pulls me onto his lap. “Baby, you’re a lot of things, but broken isn’t one of them.” With his thumb, he traces my lips. “You’re playing the hand you were dealt—no tricks, no tells, just taking life head-on. You have courage, fight, and resiliency.” He stops and looks into my eyes in a way that makes me feel like
he’s trying to reach my soul. “You got heart, little momma. You got more love in you for that little girl than even the Queen of Spades had for her Jacks, and that’s saying something. Let yourself have something good, Hailey…for you and for little chick.”

I have no words to reply with. None. The man has turned me into a pile of mush, and, at the same time, held me firm. Is this what life with
Morrison Caldwell is like? Is he really my safe place to fall?

Leaning in, I kiss him softly. Leisurely, I explore his lips as he opens his mouth to let my tongue invade. Slowly, I treasure him and all that he’s given to me tonight. When I pull away, he smiles at me in a way that is deliciously Morrison.

“Well, little momma, you’ve had your bedtime story, so now let’s tuck you in.”

“Is that
so? What had you telling that story at that moment?” My curiosity is back.

He laughs softly. “Baby, I tell little chick that story every night I’m with her, once she’s sound asleep and we’ve completed the three must-reads of the evening.”

I arch an eyebrow at him.

“She told me her perfect daddy would read her two more every night after we finish the first. Well, her perfect man may read three,
but I do four. Call me an overachiever.” He winks. “Four aces in a deck. Four stories keep our little girl happy. Four is a lucky number, little momma.” With that, he scoops me up and takes me to my room.

Without hesitation, I pull him onto the bed with me. Rather than sleep, he gives me four orgasms that are sure to have me remembering this night vividly for a long time to come.

He gives me
good. Somehow, this man has made his way into my life, into my heart, and given me more in these few months than I had had in my entire life. Can it last? Can I hold on to him? It’s taken me a lot to realize that, more than anything, I want to have this with him. The deck is in my hand, the game is Texas Hold’em, and I plan to hold him for as long as I can.