Page 100 of The Killer Cupcake
She let him go before he released. His hips buckled in response. She grinned and came up on him. Straddling him. He looked over to their son and saw he was still asleep. She was on him again. Her hand gripped the head of his cock and fed it into her pussy before he could stop her.
“Deb’s please… I can’t control it.”
“No. I need it. I don’t want to dream anymore. I need you,” she said.
Debbie, José, and her son lived by Matteo's rules—unspoken laws he'd established to protect what mattered most. This particular one remained unbreakable: their intimate moments would never touch the same space where Junior slept. Usually, they could leave him with José for a few hours. But Matteo, bound by old-world sensibilities, insisted on absolute separation even when that wasn't possible. On those nights, he'd lead her to the bathroom across the hall or press her against the wall outside their bedroom door—anywhere but near their sleeping son. She understood his fierce need to preserve Junior's innocence, to shield him from every shadow of the adult world. Still, in her heart where he lived as her faithful husband, she sometimes yearned for the simple normalcy of sharing their bed without calculation or compromise.
Debbie rode his dick hard and fast. Matteo was powerless to stop her. The passion unleashed from her was wild. Her tongue licked over his chest, neck, and lips. Her pussy tightened and never released or compromised. He looked over and saw his son stir and panicked. He had to please his woman. Somehow, do it without her mounting cries of pleasure disturbing Junior. He flipped her and pinned her down. He kissed her to keep her cries of passion muffled. He fucked her slowly to settle the urgency in her and deliver the release she needed. And masterfully, he got her there, just as Junior sat up. Debbie climaxed with her hands pinned down and mouth gaping. He could not. Though he desperately wanted it. He wanted it badly. When his son stood in the crib and stared at their moving bodies, he quit.
“Damn it, Matteo!” she cursed.
“Don’t swear around Junior Debs,” he said and left her. He pulled on his pants to bury his angry cock and reached for Junior, who immediately began to cry for his attention.
“I’ll make him a bottle,” Matteo said and headed for the door.
“He’s too old for bottles!” she shouted after him.
They were gone. She rolled her eyes and turned over in bed, less than satisfied. But soon her anger dissolved. She had to smile. Though her heart was shattered, her hope was still there. She had Matteo, and in his imperfect world, he was perfectly perfect for her and Junior.
The train cutthrough midnight darkness. Ely had fallen asleep against the window, his breath fogging the glass in small, rhythmic clouds. Kathy snapped her journal shut and stared at him. The guilt hit like a physical thing—sharp, relentless, piercing her heart. This man had destroyed another woman tobe with her. He'd asked for nothing, given everything, and where had it gotten him? On a train racing toward Harlem and her father's bloody vendetta. His peaceful life in Butts might as well have been a dream now. She'd done this to him. Her salvation had become his cause.
Her fingers found his cheek, memorizing the planes of his face. She loved this man—God, how she loved him—more than she'd thought possible. But love and passion were different creatures, and that distinction would remain forever unspoken. Ely's sacrifice demanded her absolute loyalty, which made returning to Harlem feel like walking into a trap. Carmelo existed there like a lit match near gasoline. What if her resolve crumbled? What if he said her name just right, looked at her that certain way? She could never face him alone again. The child they shared inside of her whispered his name in her dreams. She needed backup—someone who could keep her anchored when the past came calling.
Across the narrow aisle, her mother slept peacefully against her father's thigh. He sat wakeful, lost in the black landscape streaming past the train window. Another soul too troubled for rest.
Something made him glance her way. Their eyes met, and he offered that subtle wink that had always meant "everything will be alright, baby girl, daddy has you.” Her smile was almost bashful. She pressed her hand to her heart and nodded—I love you—a gesture they'd shared since she was small. He returned it without hesitation. The exchange loosened the tight insecurity and worry in her chest. Maybe she could do this—return to Harlem as Ely's wife, carrying her secret child, protected by these two good men and faith.
Maybe not.
CHAPTER 38
THE FAMILY THAT SLAYS TOGETHER STAYS TOGETHER
Three days blurred together like watercolors in the rain. In the eye of this storm, Kathy and Debbie held each other steady. The bakery's familiar rhythms provided sanctuary from two unbearable extremes: the suffocating grief that enveloped the family and friends of gentle giant Pete Freeman, and the men's hushed conferences that reeked of gunpowder and revenge.
"Kathy?" Debbie called from the kitchen doorway, still wearing her work apron. The evening's last customer had gone, and Kathy finished counting out wages for their helpers. Now they just had to wait for Brother to drive them home.
"Sit. You need to rest," Debbie insisted, bringing over a sandwich and a tall glass of water.
Kathy's stomach growled with hunger, but she'd grown accustomed to long days of labor. Hard work had become her constant companion. With Uncle Pete’s death rocking the family to its core, it would remain so. She and Debbie would run Kathy’s Sweets until Ely and her Daddy decided otherwise.
She walked over, ready to get off her feet.
The reunion between cousins had remained pleasant, comforting, and natural for one solid reason. They both ignoredtheir shared history with the Ricci brothers and made small talk about Harlem gossip.
“So you and Ely are staying in my bedroom, huh?” Debbie asked.
Kathy chewed on the sandwich and nodded. “Yep, I can be close to Auntie. I know you got a lot on your hands with Junior. Plus, home is a nonstop traffic of Bumpy’s men now under the control of Daddy. He brought back so many men from Butts. I figured they could take my room,” Kathy reasoned.
Debbie studied her.
Kathy looked up. “What?”
“You haven’t been home in so long. You avoiding the place?”
“No. I just told you,” Kathy rolled her eyes.
“I know Auntie Brenda misses you. And I figured you would want to stay in your old room. You know.”
