Page 70 of Anchor

She’s fucking gorgeous.

I breathe heavily and rasp, “I need to get you back to the motel; I need to be in you all night if I’ve got to ride with you behind me all day tomorrow.”

She giggles, gripping my cut tighter, and that sound, God, how I’ve missed it.

My eyes race between hers, and I whisper, “I love you, Heaven, and I promise you that everything will be okay from now on.”

Her eyes water, and she nods before pressing her lips against mine.

“I think I want little butterflies going up my thighs,” Amy says, bringing me out of my head, and I sigh.

She knows once a tat is decided, we won’t add on, especially not toward her fucking cunt. Where I’m tatting is close enough in my book.

The last thing I need is to take twenty fucking steps back with my wife.

For the first time in over ten years, I have hope that we’ll make it, I have fucking hope that I’ve finally got her back.

She’s in my bed every night, my dick deep inside her. Every morning, after I wake her up with my mouth over her cunt, we take a shower together, then we have breakfast as a family, before I take Micha to school.

She’s still working at Jimmy’s Girls, and I can’t seem to convince her to quit. But she’s letting me in. She’s making the log house her home, adding her touches.

It’s something I’ve fucking wished for, and now that I have it, I’m terrified I’m going to lose it because I know she still doesn’t trust me fully, and tatting near this bitch’s cunt will not do me any favors.

“Amy, you’ve already signed your waiver. If you want another tattoo, you need to book again, but if you want one that high up, book Art or Bulldozer,” I state as I finish wiping over her tattoo. “Now, before you sat down, I gave you instructions on how to care for your tattoo and went through them point by point, and you must keep to it. The last thing you want is an infection,” I continue as I grab the Vaseline and gently, with my gloved fingers, I wipe over the butterfly, but as soon as I remove my hand, she grabs her panties and pulls them to the side, showing me her pussy a fucking gain. Anger takes hold as I stand up and take a step back, glaring at her.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, baby; we both know you’ll give in sooner or later, especially if I show you how wet I am,” she crows.

I scoff. “You delusional little—” But I’m cut off when a voice behind me that normally relaxes my whole body says, “Sorry to interrupt, but we wanted to know if you’d like a dinner date tonight at the diner,” and everything in me tenses.

Slowly, I turn and find my wife, with anger in her eyes, standing with my son, who’s glaring at Amy. Panic hits when she won’t look at me.

These past two weeks have been fucking amazing; we’ve been us again—no,betterthan us, we’ve been fucking complete, and we were getting somewhere….

I swear to fuck, if this bitch has put us back, I’m slicing her throat.

“Seriously, you’re scowling at me for interrupting your flirting with my husband when our son wants to go for burgers?” Heaven says as she crosses her arms over her chest, glaring at Amy, and our son grins wide at his mother’s snappy tone, but all I can focus on is the way her flowy, light blue top shows her cleavage when she crosses her arms like that, cleavage I’d really love to suck and lick right now.

My dick twitches, and I wince.

Fuck, down, boy,I mutter in my head as the stupid girl on my chair states, “He’s not wearing a wedding ring!”

Heaven snorts and nods to my hand, stating, “One, he’s wearing gloves, and two, if you’d pay better attention before he put them on, you’d notice he has a black ring tattooed around his finger, and you’d also notice my name on his forearm, and on his collar bone is our son’s name. Now, do me a favor and get your ass off my husband's chair, pay your bill, and fuck off before I break your nose!”

Yep, no stopping my cock now because, fuck me, that was hot….

I clear my throat as I remove my gloves and walk to my family in the doorway. I press a kiss against my son’s head before I gentlygrab my wife’s chin and tilt her head my way. I smile and slowly place one, two, three pecks against her lips until her eyes soften.

Kissing her lips one more time, I shout out my door, “Art,” and a few seconds later he opens his door and raises a brow.

He grins, seeing my wife and son, but soon scowls when I state, “A client propositioned me and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Can you do me a favor and see Amy out after collecting her bill? Please go over her care for her tattoo. I have once, but….”

I trail off, and he nods, understanding; I didn’t do it in front of the cameras.

I step out of the way for Art to enter, pulling my wife into my arms as I do, her back to my chest, then watch as Art raises a brow at Amy, who still has her legs spread, and he snaps, “There’s a fucking eleven year old right here, you stupid bitch, get out now!” then grabs her arm before dragging her off the chair and out of the room, giving Micha a high five on the way.

I chuckle.

Art has wormed his way into his spot as one of his favorite uncles, much to Steal’s dismay, but the fucker did buy him a dirt bike for his birthday three days ago.

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