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AXEL (The Beckett Boys, Book Eight) Page 10
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Page 10
Oh? I write. Like what?
Well, one goal would be to open my own tattoo parlor. A place that is just mine. I’ve been scouting possible locations, and there’s a place on the far side of town that could work. My place would have its own unique feel unlike any of the joints in town. And I could run it my way, with my vision.
I bite my lip. This is the stuff my daddy doesn’t see about him. Axel has drive and ambition, like I do. Like my father does. He wants to improve himself, and I love seeing that. I believe in you, I write. I hope you persist with that goal. You can do it.
And then he texts back: What are you doing right this second.
I snap a picture of me reclining on the couch and send it to him. I’m being super lazy and trying to convince myself that Monday won’t come.
You’re so fucking beautiful, he writes back. I can’t wait to see you again.
Me neither, I admit. This man has sunk under my skin in a way I never expected.
We spend a few more minutes chatting about random things—music we want to share with each other, funny things we’ve overheard, and so on. He tells me about what he wants to do with his business, and I encourage him, saying it sounds like an excellent idea and he should do it. It will be an interesting tattoo parlor, one that will draw business from all around the area.
I hear the front door open, and I call out, “Hi, Daddy.”
His footsteps come toward me, and then he enters the family room. “Hi, Kendra. How’s your evening?”
I nod at the show I selected. “Just working on my horror classics,” I say. “I think you recommended this one to me a month or two ago, and I’m finally getting around to watching it.” Not that I’ve been watching a lot of stuff lately, since I’ve been busy texting Axel.
He settles on the far end of the couch and kicks his legs on the coffee table. “Ah, The Twilight Zone. Good call. This episode is amazing.”
We watch for a few minutes without saying anything. My phone buzzes, but I don’t answer. I know it’s a text from Axel.
Apparently, my father does too. “So how is he?” He doesn’t bother to name him. We know who’s texting.
I sigh. I don’t even know what to say. It’s still a bone of contention between us. “Fine.”
“Kendra,” Dad says quietly. “Look at me.”
I bite my lip and glance over at him. There’s concern on his face.
“I don’t like that this is an issue,” he says, scrubbing his jaw. “I know you’re still talking to him.”
“So?” I can’t help the defensiveness in my tone. It doesn’t matter. I’m allowed to talk to whomever I want, with or without his approval. “We’re talking about his business plan.” I don’t know why I tell him that—maybe to prove to my father that he’s being judgmental about someone different than us.
Daddy has a flare of interest in his eyes. “Oh? What is that?”
With caution, I outline Axel’s plan to him, how he envisions making his parlor stand out from what’s around not just in Rock Bridge, but the cities around us. His background in art, and his past experience, and how he’s working at a tattoo shop now and learning from the owner how to run a successful business.
“That sounds intriguing,” my father says when I’m done talking.
I admit, I’m shocked. I wasn’t expecting him to say that. “Yes, it is,” I say cautiously. I’m still a little wary.
“I’d like to meet with him,” Daddy continues, toeing off his shoes and kicking them onto the ground. He groans and stretches his feet. “Discuss options for financing this business endeavor.”
I just stare at him for a moment. “Really?”
“Kendra, I may have conflicted feelings about his worthiness of you, but I’m a businessman at heart,” he says, looking at little wounded as he eyes me. “I like what I’m hearing so far, and I’d be interested in getting a pitch from him detailing his business plans in specific.”
My heart thuds against my ribcage. An opportunity to pitch his business to Daddy? This could get Axel up and going. “I’ll tell him,” I say evenly.
My father grins and stands, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek. “Why don’t you text him back? He’ll probably want to know.”
I can’t help but smile in response. Daddy and I don’t agree on everything, but he’s a fair man. I should be more patient when it comes to him. Of course he’s protective of me. I’m his little girl. Maybe he just doesn’t think anyone will ever be worthy of me.
But maybe…maybe he’ll eventually come around despite himself.
He leaves the room, heading to his bedroom, and I fire off a text to Axel, telling him that my father wants to meet him to discuss financing opportunities for his tattoo business. He doesn’t respond immediately, so I try to focus on the movie, despite the fact that my mind is flying a mile a minute.
When my phone buzzes, I grab it off the side table.
Really? That’s fucking incredible. I can’t thank you enough for this opp.
His excitement is tangible. You got this, I write. He’s really interested. I can’t wait to hear how it goes. I send a heart emoticon, then kind of wish I could take it back. Is that too intimate?
God, what am I, in third grade? I scoff at my own neuroses. It’s a fucking heart, Kendra, I tell myself. It’s not like I told him I wanted to have all his babies or something.
Even though the thought of being pregnant with a tiny Axel makes my real heart do some kind of funny skip in my chest.
My phone vibrates with his response. I can’t wait to see you again. I miss you. <3
And suddenly I don’t feel so silly for sending my heart. I’m smiling the rest of the evening.
Axel
I pace back and forth across my living room as I wait for Kendra to show up. Thank fuck she agreed to come with me. What was I thinking when I told Jamison’s wife, Claire, that I’d come to the family picnic?
Must have been a moment of weakness or something. She caught me unawares, and I couldn’t tell her no. The whole family is going to be there, she told me on the phone call, and she missed me and wanted to see me.
How the hell could I tell her I wouldn’t come?
I’m getting soft.
Fuck.
I hear Kendra’s car pull into the drive and whip the door open before she’s even gotten out and is walking up the steps. The lightness in her eyes, her easy gait, give me a little comfort and ease my tension.
“Hi,” she says, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me into a hug.
I don’t say anything in response, just tighten her against me and breathe her scent in. Today is going to suck, I just know it. Shit hasn’t been good with my family, not since I got kicked out of Outlaws…or even before that, when I quit Fugitives. And I’m going to be seeing all of my brothers and cousins.
I’m so not fucking prepared for this.
Her fingers reach up and stroke the hair at the nape of my neck. She brushes soft kisses along my jaw. “You okay?”
I sigh and clench her hips. God, this woman…she undoes me in all the best ways.
“I am now,” I admit. I want to just stay here and not leave the house. Things are better when she’s in my arms. Being around my brothers, my cousins--It’s going to suck. Hard.
For the thousandth time, I consider just bailing.
And then Kendra pulls back and smiles, cupping my face. “It’s a great day for a picnic. I have the potato salad I made in the back of the car. Wanna ride with me?”
I shrug, and she slugs my shoulder.
“Is it really so terrible?” she asks.
“You have no idea.” God, I sound like a fucking wimp. “It’ll be fine,” I say, not believing it for even one second. “Let’s just go and get this over with.”
I hope Claire appreciates the effort I’m making. When I told her I was bringing Kendra with me, she about shit herself in excitement over me dating someone.
Apparently, my man-whore legend has gotten around.
&n
bsp; We get in Kendra’s car and head to the part of the park where the picnic is being held. My cousins like to have a summer picnic every year, and Claire picked up on the idea and this year decided we should all come—the brothers and cousins. Just another way to knit us closer together, I assume.
I shouldn’t drag Kendra into our shit. But I couldn’t imagine getting through this day without her. Somehow she’s come to mean more to me than I expected. Than I anticipated. Than I even wanted.
And even knowing that, knowing that I should avoid all of this, I can’t stay away from her.
It’s hard not to look at her as she makes conversation, her face alight with her warm smile, the sunlight peeking through the windows to brighten her face and set her hair aglow. She’s talking about how her cook showed her how to make the potato salad and laughed at her terrible potato-peeling skills. The woman is beautiful. Fucking beautiful. And the fact that she wants to be with me? It’s mind-blowing.
But maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised. Even her dad sees potential in my talent, my vision. I’m meeting with him in two days to present my business plan. I will impress Charles, and he’ll want to invest in me. And once my parlor gets off the ground, I’ll be able to pay him back for the seed money.
I’ve spent the last several days working on my presentation. It’ll be great. And I’ll keep telling myself that until I believe it.
Kendra reaches over and loops her fingers through mine, and suddenly I feel grounded. So much so that it scares me. I almost want to yank my hand from hers, because this vulnerability is getting to be too intense. She sees me, far too much of me.
Where is this going, this thing between us? What will come of this? I have no idea.
I resist the urge to pull away, let my fingers rest in hers. She’s trying to offer simple comfort, nothing more, I chide myself. Stop reading into everything. Doesn’t all have to be laden with meaning.
We get to the picnic area and pull in beside a row of motorcycles and muscle cars lined up.
My stomach tightens.
Off in the distance, there’s a ruckus already going. Dozens of people milling around, far more than just my family—bikers, kids, women, loud rock blaring through a stereo system someone set up. Looks like some friends decided to crash the picnic.
“Your family is wild,” Kendra says with a laugh as she eyes everyone. “I feel like I’m way too conservatively dressed.” In her long summery dress, I can see why she thinks that. Many of the women here are wearing tiny cut-off jean shorts and tank tops that are plastered to their tits. Not Kendra’s style.
“You’re fine,” I tell her in a gruffer tone than I intend. I take her hand and lead her toward my family, hoping we don’t get grilled right away.
I asked Claire when I was on the phone with her to not interrogate Kendra, that we’re not serious with each other and just casually dating, but who knows?
“Axel!” a woman says, calling to me, and suddenly I’m enveloped in a tight squeeze. It’s Hale’s fiancée, Phoebe. “Glad to see you here.” She withdraws from my embrace and eyes Kendra with interest. “Hi, I’m Phoebe,” she says, extending her hand. “Engaged to his brother Hale. And you are?”
Kendra gives her a broad smile. “I’m Kendra.”
“I’m glad to meet you.” Phoebe shoots me a side glance that speaks volumes, despite its brevity. “Didn’t expect Axel to bring someone with him, to be honest. You must be special to him.”
“Phoebe,” I growl to her in warning.
But Kendra laughs it off. “I think he brought me because he knows I love picnic food and he felt bad for me. I never get invited to family events. I have homemade potato salad that’s probably terrible, by the way.” She nudges her shoulder carrying the portable lunch cooler bearing the food. “Where can I put this?”
I gotta hand it to her. She’s an expert at this. I should have expected it though. Of course she’s much more adept than me at dealing with people. She’s been born and bred to handle these kinds of situations.
Kendra puts her offering on the food table, and we fix ourselves plates of lunch. We sit down at a picnic table as far away from the populous as possible. A couple of little kids are running around the grounds, tripping and falling and laughing as they play tag, their moms chasing them. My cousins’ children. Haven’t seen them in ages. They’re growing so big. Time is flying by quicker than I ever dreamed.
“Your family seems nice,” Kendra says, mowing down on her hot dog.
“They seem so,” I answer dryly. I take a big bite of the potato salad.
“You don’t have to eat that, by the way.” She grimaces. “I’m sure you’re doing that out of obligation. It’s probably not that good.”
“It’s the best thing here,” I tell her, shoveling another bite in. Cheesy as it sounds, the fact that she made something for the picnic means a lot to me.
She bumps her shoulder against mine, and her face lights with a delicate blush. “You’re crazy.”
Smith walks by, holding his kid on his hip. When he sees me, his eyes narrow, and he gives me a curt nod. I respond with one so slight that it’s barely perceptible.
“You’re…not really close with anyone here, are you,” Kendra muses.
“No.” I don’t offer an explanation. What can I say? It’s the culmination of years of tension brewing between all of us, tension I haven’t been able to let go, despite them all doing so. And frankly, none of them give two fucks about me. Why should I care about them?
Everyone’s been giving me plenty of space since I showed up, a wide berth so to speak. I can’t say as I blame them.
In fact, I much prefer not talking to any of them. Still, I showed up.
That must count for something.
“It’s good of you to come anyway,” Kendra says, as if reading my mind, dropping a hand down to stroke my knee. “This has to be hard for you.”
I look at her guileless eyes, the way she peers at me like I mean something. And I can feel something in my heart start to shatter. Fuck. This woman is going to sink me hard and fast like the iceberg that took down the Titanic. I have to stop it now, before it gets worse. “Hurry up and finish. I’m challenging you to a game of horseshoes when we’re done eating.”
Her brow quirks. “I’ll have you know I’m amazing at horseshoes.” I can’t tell if she’s boasting or telling the truth, but I want to find out.
“Oh? Let’s place a little wager on it.”
“How much?”
I snort. “Not money, sugar. Something more meaningful. A bet.”
Kendra draws her lower lip between her teeth as she scrutinizes me. “Okay. Deal. The winner gets…a back massage.”
“Pshhh.” I roll my eyes. “Weak. You can do better than that.”
When she wrinkles up her face at me, it’s so cute that I can’t help but reach out and stroke her jaw. “Fine,” she says. “Then whoever wins at this game gets the sexual favor of their choice. No holds barred.”
Fuck yes. I like her style. Going right for the throat. “That’s more like it.” I grab her hand and drag her over to the horseshoes area. “Ladies first.”
It wasn’t boasting on her part; Kendra is a stone-cold killer at horseshoes. She stomps me clean into the ground, and by the end of our game, I’m almost pleading for mercy. But she won’t relent. She’s a dead aim, scoring point after point on me. We even have a small crowd around us at this point, chanting about who they want to win—with the majority of them cheering for her.
“You’re brutal,” I say when she delivers the final blow, holding my hands over my heart. “I guess I’ve lost.”
Kendra whoops and holds her hands up, running down the line of observers to give high-fives to everyone watching. Seeing the way she just connects with my family, no reservations, no hesitation… Fuck. I’m falling for this woman.
Hard.
She makes her way back to me, and I yank her flush to my body, taking her mouth in a searing kiss that almost makes smoke rise be
tween us.
“Axel,” she breaths against my lips. “I… God.”
“You won,” I tell her, looking her in the eyes. They’re wide and her pupils are large, reflecting her arousal. “What do you want, sweetness? Anything.”
“I…” Her cheeks grow red. “I want to go back to the cabin and…” She swallows. “I want you to make me orgasm there. Right on the floor.”
The idea of possessing this woman in a place to important to me makes my cock throb insistently. Oh, I’m going to make her come, all right. I’ll make sure her screams of pleasure echo off the walls for years to come.
“We need to go,” I say in a harsh voice. I know I sound intense, but I’m so turned on for her that if we don’t leave now, I’m going to fuck her in front of my family, not caring who sees us.
Her lips part, and she gasps. “But—”
“No buts. I’m done talking. I need to taste you before I fucking explode.” I grab her hand and tug her toward her car.
“Axel.” My name is a breath on her lips, and I want to kiss her until it becomes a prayer, a pleading. I want so much with her. But I can’t let myself think about that. I’ve tried so hard to keep this thing between us light and physical, but somewhere along the way, it’s morphed into more.
She gives me her keys, and I drive us further up the road until we get near. We park. Walk down the path in silence, fingers locked. The clearing comes in sight, and I tug her into the cabin that has somehow come to mean something to both of us. This site has changed for me, and she’s going to be forever entwined with this location now. No escaping that.
I lay her down on the floor.
Tug her pants off, her panties, then take her soaked pussy in my mouth.
Her groans give me life. I can taste her wetness, that musky feminine flavor that makes my cock so hard it could burst out of my jeans. I need this woman so badly, more than I can admit even to myself.
I push my fingers into her, drive her to rapid orgasm twice, savoring the way she gushes all over my fingers as she shatters for me so beautifully. Then I strip her fully naked, drinking the sight of her bare flesh in. She’s creamy, with freckles on her shoulders, and I can’t help but kiss each one. I want her imprinted on me. I want my hands and mouth to memorize the way she tastes. Feels. Smells.