Page 19 of Secrets on the Mountain

Now it's my turn to fill the room with noise.

Junie pulls my jeans off, then takes my boxer briefs with them, freeing my cock. Her mouth is hot and wet, running over my skin, dropping kisses as she moves along my chest, my abdomen, and finally to the weeping tip of my engorged cock.

Tonight, I let her have her way; taking control of my body and making it her own in every way she asks of me.

When we're both spent and breathless, I hold Junie in a possessive grip, loving the feel of her

head resting against my chest as I slip into unconsciousness. But all too soon, I feel her slipping away from me,

"Shh, it's okay," she coos softly with her lips pressed to mine before I can panic at waking up too quickly when she slides out from under my arms. "I have to go back to the other room. I'll see you in the morning."

There's a lot left to work out, but first thing's first-- we have got to get the sleeping arrangements settled.

I need Junie in my bed for more than the calisthenics.

9

JUNE

"Who's that?"

Donner eyes the photo on May-Ellen's mantle with suspicion, pointing at the baby in a very young Hurricane's arms.

"That's Raine when he was just a baby," Cane's mother patiently explains.

"How could Raine be a baby in my picture? He's a grown up already."

The four-year-old Cane in the picture really is a dead-ringer for Donner.

"That's not a picture of you, baby," I tell him. "That's Hurricane when he was same age you are now."

Donner looks between May and I with skepticism etched so deeply on his little face, I can almost see the beginnings of his father's trademark scowl setting in.

It's clear that he's trying to decide if May and I are messing with him.

It's been a week since I drove up to Moonshine Ridge in search of the man I thought had abandoned me and our unborn son over five years ago.

A week of comparing notes and discovering the lengths some people went to to tear us apart in hopes it would convince Cane to stay in a contract so they could line their pockets, regardless of what was best for their client.

A week of making love after Donner has fallen asleep, only to have to slip out of Cane's arms and go back to the guest room before Donner wakes up.

Don gives the photo another thoughtful glare before taking off-- no doubt in search of Cane.

The past week has also cemented a bond between Cane and our son that developed unexpectedly fast. They're practically inseparable now.

Tonight, we're enjoying dinner at May-Ellen's home in the family's woodland estate after spending most of our week holding off gathering with the entire family until we were sure they understood that Donner doesn't understand that they're family yet.

It was only a matter of time till we had to give in though.

Grandmothers are a force to be reckoned with and Cane's mother and his grandmother, Mable, set the bar for insistent.

Mable eyes me through a pair of red glasses that make her eyes look comically large through the lenses.

"I need you two to get to work on the next kid asap," she says in a not-exactly whisper as she leans close to me, "That McAllister bitch is way ahead of me with the great grand-babies and I need to catch up."

My understanding is that she's in her eighties, but I'd have probably guessed ten years younger if I didn't know better. She can't be much taller than five feet, with a slight build that has a softly feminine figure showing under the blouse and long skirt she's wearing...with a pair of boots that look suspiciously like well-worn Doc Martens.

It's the bright pink lipstick that makes it hard not to stare when she talks.

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