Page 20 of Can't Walk Away

I walk with her wrapped around me. The door to my truck is left open, her watering can is tipped over flowing all over the front porch, but the only thing I care about is getting inside Cheyenne.

She’s in one of her sundresses again and I can feel her unbuckling my pants and her hand reaching inside and grasping my dick, “Fuck,” I hiss. Her back is up against the front door and she’s pulled my cock out of my pants and then she lowers herself onto my throbbing cock. I thrust up to meet her and I fuck her right there on the front porch for the whole neighborhood to see who owns her. I own her and she owns me.

It isn’t until she’s shuddering in my arms that I open the door and close it. We land against the wall just inside the house and I take her like a savage. She’s dripping wet and on the brink of orgasm when she moans out, “Jase.” I grind up into her and we’re both coming together.

“Love coming home to you,” I murmur into her neck.

“Love you, Baby,” she responds.

17

Cheyenne

I’m sitting at home a week later after just finishing up Jase’s website for his shop when the doorbell rings.

“Coming,” I yell out. Thinking it’s the UPS man delivering something Jase ordered. He’s been having some of the parts he needs at the shop shipped here since nine times out of ten either he’s here or I am. That way the boys don’t have to stop what they’re doing to sign for deliveries. I love that I can help him in this small way.

“Hello,” I say as I open the door and stop dead in my tracks. I haven’t heard from her in weeks. Not since she called me a whore and called Jase a pervert. I have no idea why she’s here and of course the one time I don’t have my phone in my back pocket she decides to show up.

“Hello, Cheyenne,” she sneers. I don’t allow her to come in. She’s dressed in her pant suit. It’s cream in color and she has a black shirt under her suit jacket with her black high heels. She’s taller than me in my bare feet.

“Mother,” I reply back, and it burns me that this is the woman that was once a loving and caring person. I don’t know where this new version of her has come from, but I don’t like her. Not at all.

“I know you have manners, Cheyenne. Invite me in so the whole neighborhood doesn’t hear us and start running a gossip mill. It’s bad enough you and Jase are doing that already,” she scoffs.

I only have the door partially open, yet she jars me as she pushes her way through.

“You’re not welcome in my home. You need to leave,” I say with anger building in my voice. I’ve never talked to her like this or anybody for that matter. She raises an eyebrow at me. “I always knew you were a little brat and thinking you were better than anyone, but this won’t take long to say,” she says.

“You don’t have anything I want to hear,” I grumble.

“Too bad in life you don’t always get what you want,” she goes into the kitchen and sits down at the dining room table Jase and I built last weekend. I come up with all these crazy ideas and he’s right there with me through them all. It’s a farmhouse style table and has two benches on each side and we built them from scratch, cutting, sawing, sanding, and staining them until they were perfect. I want to have two chairs to put at both ends of the table, but I’m still searching for the perfect pair. Seeing my vile mother sitting at my table makes me sick to my stomach. I keep my back to the island where I left my phone hoping she doesn’t see me reach for it as she carries on saying, “That father of yours isn’t even your father. It’s all been a lie since the moment you were born. He was never the man I really wanted, but when I found out I was pregnant, your real father was already gone and wanted nothing to do with a child,” she says as she wipes a tear from her eye.

Is she insane to tell me something like this, when I know without a doubt it’s all a big lie? My father did a DNA test when I came home from college; he wasn’t messing around anymore. Apparently if it wasn’t this guy she’s now talking about, it was the pool guy, then a contractor. My dad caught her with them, by then I was in school and he knew if he left my mother and he wasn’t my biological father, she would take everything out on me, and he didn’t want that for me, even though the likely hood of him being my father was slim to none.

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