Page 17 of Gone Away Home

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “I heard that. It’s the reason I’m working a short week after I start tomorrow.”

“You are coming by for Thanksgiving though, right? Janice will be beside herself knowing you’re here and aren’t around our table for the holiday. I’m sure Zayla would want to see you as well.” His voice takes on a dreamy quality I’m not used to hearing as he muses, “You know she became really withdrawn after you decided to enlist. I don’t know why, but it was like she wasn’t herself and was a little lost. I never got to the bottom of why, but she bounced back eventually. Maybe it was just finishing up high school and choosing a path. She’s done damn good for herself too,” I can hear the pride in his voice and I’m not going to interrupt his praise for my woman. “She edits books, romance novels mostly from what Janice tells me. Not sure about the material, but she’s well respected and enjoys it. Can’t want more than that for any child when they grow up.”

My chest aches a little bit and I turn to find Zayla watching me with worried eyes as she nibbles on her bottom lip. I hold my arm open for her and she doesn’t hesitate to walk right up to me, bury her face in my chest, and snuggle into me. When I wrap my arm around her, she fits against me perfectly like she was always meant to be right here. Against me.

Probably because she was.

“I’ll be at Thanksgiving, Dad.” Zayla’s head snaps up and she rests her chin on my chest as she looks at me and gnaws on her lip, abusing the poor thing. “I promise. I’m sorry I haven’t been by; it wasn’t personal to you or Janice. I just needed to get some things straight first. I couldn’t, and wasn’t, going to put it off.”

The words are for Dad, but I’m looking down into Zayla’s brown eyes as I say them. Resignation crosses her face and her shoulders slump.

“Good,” there’s a finality in his tone. “Looking forward to seeing you, son. Now I need to go and make sure Janice doesn’tbake her feelings. I’m not as young as I used to be, and those delicious cinnamon rolls don’t work off the same way they used to.”

I chuckle and shake my head, not looking away from my woman. “You’re probably the one who asked for the cinnamon rolls, Dad,” I tease him.

“Might be,” he chuckles. “See you in a few days. Love you.”

“Love you,” I tell him, “see you soon.”

Once I hang up, silence surrounds us and I can see the questions, the worries, and the fears written all over Zayla’s face. It’s fucking unacceptable.

“Don’t,” my voice is pitched low, a command lacing my words, “you dare. We are going to walk into the house with our heads held high. We haven’t done anything wrong and we sure as hell don’t owe anyone anything. For too long we sacrificed our own happiness for no fucking reason, sweetheart.” I cup her face in my hands. “I won’t do it anymore and I won’t let you do it either. We belong together and we’re going to show them that. How they react is on them, not us.”

Her shoulders relax and her body melts into mine. It’s all I need. I reach over and turn the burner on the stove off before I take her mouth in a brutal kiss. The need to taste her, every single fucking inch of her, is riding me hard. I’m going to remind her exactly who she belongs to.

After I spin us around, I press her back against the counter. I reach for one hand which is gripping the sides of my t-shirt and unfurl her fingers to move her hand to the edge of the counter. When her fingers curl around it, I do the same with the other hand.

Only then do I pull back from her lips which is not easy to do at all. Her brown eyes have darkened with desire and are glazed over with lust. The way her lips are puffy and pouty after our kiss makes me want to devour her even more.

“So beautiful, Zayla,” I murmur softly. I move slowly to kneel in front of her and when her arms tense, I demand, “Don’t move your hands.”

“What,” her voice is shaky as I start to lift my shirt from where it hits her thighs, “are you doing?”

“I’m helping you relax,” I tease as I look up at her and smirk. “Damn,” I groan, “what a fucking view.

The way she blushes is sexy as fuck. And now I know just how far down that blush goes. I’ve mapped it and memorized it.

My hands glide under the shirt she has on and grip the sides of the panties she’s wearing. It only takes one sharp tug to rip them from her body. “Dustin,” she gasps and my cock throbs and leaks pre-cum from the tip.

When I glide a leg over my shoulder, it opens her up and helps the shirt ride up. I stare at her glistening pussy and lick my lips. My mouth is fucking watering because I already know how good she tastes.

There’s no need for more words, just action.

I dive between her thighs and devour her. There is not a single part of her pussy I don’t explore. I flick her clit and suck it into my mouth before sliding down her slit and burying my tongue as deep inside of her tight channel that I can.

With a groan, I lap at her, wanting more of her delicious arousal. I watch her face the entire time and the strain on herbeautiful features. Her knuckles are turning white with how hard she’s gripping the counter and trying not to let go.

“Good fucking girl,” I growl before I suck her clit into my mouth again. When I slide two fingers inside of her, making sure she’s steady with my other hand, her hips start to rock. “That’s right. You’re so close, I can feel it,” my words are muffled because I’m not willing to move away from her.

I fucking can’t.

When I crook my fingers inside of her and bite down gently on her clit, Zayla’s head falls back, and she screams my name. I don’t stop working her through her orgasm, helping her to float down slowly and gently.

The entire time I watch her and make sure I lick every bit of her sweetness. I’m addicted to the way she tastes.

As her body relaxes, I stand up, pull her away from the counter, and cradle her in my arms. The way she’s trembling, wracked with aftershocks, makes me feel victorious. She starts to slide her hands toward the waistband of my joggers, but I stop her with a shake of my head.

“Sweetheart that was all about you.” The way she pouts up at me has me chuckling under my breath and wiggling my eyebrows at her. “How about you make it up to me later? After I feed you.”

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