Page 57 of Castaway Whirlwind
Max scoffs. “Gauge is almost seven weeks old. If you could have kids, you’d be back to work within a week, guaranteed.”
I suck in a breath, hurt by both the casual mention of my infertility and also the implication that Cora lacks my kind of self-sacrificing work ethic, one imposed on me by our dad.
“That’s not a good thing,” Russell responds, his temper and ire easily growing day by day with Max.
“Whatever. I’m gonna take a shower.” Max treads up the stairs, stopping at the landing to give Cora a brow raised with expectation that makes the water in my stomach threaten to come back up.
Cora’s lips wobble when she holds Gauge out toward me. “Will you watch him?”
“You don’t have to go upstairs if you don’t want to,” I say, keeping my arms down by my sides, Russell rubbing his thumb across my belly.
“She’s right,” Russell adds, and I know he’s holding his tongue, his chest puffing out against my back with the urge to say more.
Cora’s arms shake the longer she holds Gauge in the air, and she forces a smile. “Of course, I want to.”
I give in, taking my nephew, and Cora bounds up the stairs.
“I don’t like this,” Russell states.
“I don’t either,” I tell him honestly, making my way to the couch and settling back in the corner of the sectional to lay Gauge on my chest. “I love Max, but the way he treats Cora…”
“It’s not right,” Russell finishes for me, and I nod. “But I don’t know if she’s ready to hear it yet.” He drops onto thecushion beside me, kicking his feet up on the coffee table after unlacing and pulling off his boots. “You know, it’ll be real interesting to see how everyone reacts to them when we go out tomorrow night.”
“What do you mean?” I pat Gauge’s back to help him fall asleep, his eyes drifting closed while he sucks his fist. The tension in the air can’t dampen my excitement, thinking about tomorrow. After Russell’s son comes into town, we’re planning a night out at a dance hall with all our friends to celebrate our engagement.
“You know how Wyatt and Davis are.” Russell scooches in close, slides an arm under my back, and then grabs the remote to flick on the TV. He turns the volume up on some detective show when Max moans loud enough for us to hear him in the shower on the second floor.
Though my friends’ husbands know Max through work, seeing him interact with Cora if he’s not on his best behavior will be different from seeing him with the other men at the warehouse.
“The only reason I haven’t kicked your brother’s butt is because I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but they’ll have no problem doing it if he so much as raises his voice at her.”
My heart thumps with a strange mix of emotions. On one hand, I naturally want to protect my little brother at all costs. On the other, I know Max isn’t a child. He’s a grown man, and some men only listen to other men. I fear he may be one of them, so it wouldn’t matter what I say, only what the others do.
I jerk awake when Russell lifts Gauge from my chest and hands him to Cora. Her hair is damp and hanging loose, and her forced smile is even less convincing now.
“Come on, darlin’.” Russell scoops me up with one arm under my back and the other under my knees, a big grin on his handsome face. “Our turn to shower.”
* * *
Russell
“What’s that for?” Layla asks, pointing at the tall plastic step stool in the corner of the shower after I walk her straight into our bathroom, stripping off her uniform over her head while the water heats up.
“Practice.” I strip out of my dirty work clothes, tossing them over the shower door before wrapping my arms around Layla’s back and pulling her against me, spinning us beneath the spray of water as steam fogs the glass.
“You got the stool for me, Daddy?”
I groan, kissing my way down her slick body, pausing to suck each nipple before moving lower. “For both of us.” I kneel and lift her right foot onto the stool, pushing her knee out, running my hands up to palm her inner thighs so I can stare directly at her center. “Been thinking of kissing your pussy all day, darlin’.” I flick my gaze up, finding Layla’s head tipped back against the tile wall with a breathy moan before I’ve even licked her. “Watch me, darlin’.”
Layla’s eyes spring open, and only then do I lick a line between her pussy lips up to her clit. She rocks her hips against me the longer I massage circles over her bud with a firm tongue, releasing soft little whimpers while I explore her opening with one finger.
“Let me know if anything hurts.”
Layla nods fast, her fingers tangled in my hair while her other hand stays on my shoulder for balance. “I will.”
Suctioning my lips at the top over her clit, I hardly blink, despite the streaming water, as I ease my first finger inside her. My hard dick bobs in the air when I’m as deep as my finger can go, and there hasn’t been a single flicker of pain on her face. The same happens when I add my middle finger on my next slow thrust, watching her intently so that I don’t miss it when Layla shudders with pleasure, her mouth dropped open on a long moan.
“That feels good, darlin’? Not too much?”
