Found (Captive Heart #2) (8 page)

P
erfect was too
small of a word to describe this day.

“What do you want for dinner?” I say to Tucker as we walk back to our condo.

We’re still giddy and hyped up from fooling around on the bridge. I swear Tucker would have bent me over right there if it weren’t for the family who came through as he had his hand up my shirt.

“Can’t we just have more donuts?”

It’s not a bad idea. I can still taste the apple fritter from both of our mouths on my tongue.

“Aren’t you going to wish me a Happy Mother’s Day?”

That perfect day I just mentioned? Well now there is a stain, a big black one, that we’ll never be able to wipe off.

My mother leans against her silver BMW that is parked on the street in front of our stoop. I feel Tucker’s entire body stiffen at her presence, and just like that, I can feel all his hackles going back up.

We’re rooted to the street a couple of feet away from her. Maybe if we can just scoot around her, get inside —

“What, you’re not going to give me a kiss?”

The thought turns my stomach, and I think I see Tucker physically blanch. I have to get him away from this poisonous woman.

“I’m not sure what you’re doing here, but get back in your car and leave. We don’t want you anywhere near here.” I try to keep my voice steady and firm. I hope none of the anxiety or fear comes through.

The devil laughs in my face. “Oh, Charlotte. You’re such a disappointment. Shacking up with this piece of trash, he’s a convict! This is not how I raised you.”

Tucker bristles and I think he might actually punch her. “Get the fuck out of here, you bitch.”

His voice is deadly.

“Hmm, I think I feel threatened. Maybe I should call the police, tell them a convicted felon is threatening a helpless woman.”

She sneers and I think I see the pits of hell open up inside of her pupils.

I turn to Tucker and touch his arm, trying to get us in our own little bubble. “Please, babe, go in the house. I’ll deal with this. Please.”

He tears his eyes from my mother, and I plead with him in my expression.

“Tucker, please …”

He finally moves, walking to our front door, jamming the key in, and then slamming it behind him. I let out the breath I’ve been holding, relieved he didn’t actually punch my mother in the face. But the tension returns only seconds later, when I realize evil is still standing in front of me.

“Why are you here? You haven’t bothered to care for me in years, so what is the point now? You need to poke at him, threaten him? You’re pathetic.”

She’s still wearing that heinous smirk and I’ve never wanted to a plunge a knife into someone so badly. My thoughts are violent and bloody.

“Oh, Charlotte Ann, stop being so dramatic. I merely wanted to see what it looks like to live with a convict. Knowing your life will never be the same again. That society will never fully accept you. That any horrible spawn you have with that man will be mocked and tormented by those who find out their father is the scum of this country. You can still leave, you know. Have a normal life, make a good, honest go of things.”

I can feel my blood boiling. “A good, honest go of things? Is that what you did, Mother? All I ever saw you do was complain and bitch about how horrible your life was. How average your husband and child were. All I saw was you living through me, trying to complete dreams that you never could by forcing me to go after them. Either that or poison every person around you by being the town gossip. You couldn’t shut your mouth, not when it came to your opinions and not when it came to damaging other people’s friendships and relationships.”

I’m too angry to cry, the only thing I can feel is the heated rage swarming my cheeks and my tear ducts. My mother takes a step back, bumping into the shiny silver side of her BMW. It’s like I slapped her. I realize now that I’ve never fully articulated my feelings to her about how much I really despise her. So I let loose.

“You’re the one person on this earth who is supposed to love me unconditionally. And yet, whenever I needed you for just a kind word or a hug, you were never there. Instead of telling me how special and talented I was, like any parent should, you beat me down. You let me know that I was never good enough. Worthless. And it won’t even matter that I’m telling you all of this now, because you’ll never learn. You’ll never see. You think that you were the best mother on earth. No kind of heartfelt sentiment or confession will drive you from that idea you’ve planted in your mind.”

She throws her hands up. “Because I was a good mother! A great mother! I provided for you, I clothed and fed you. I put you in all of the best activities, took you to all the best plays and shows. I got you into the best college and got a ring on your finger.”

I sigh. She will never, ever see that not only did she not do any of those things herself. But that it doesn’t matter. Being a mother doesn’t mean giving your child the best things money can buy. It means loving them unconditionally, and supporting them even when you think they might fail.

There is no use explaining it to her though. “Go home, Mother. We are happy. We don’t want you in our lives. You win. You’re right. Tucker is a convict and I am his loser wife. Now, go away.”

Waves of exhaustion overtake me, all of my energy spent up in trying to explain a useless point to her. I could crawl into bed and sleep for days.

I don’t bother to see if she gets in her car. I just turn for our door, for my husband, and make my way to it.

When I open it, Tucker stands on the other side, ready to catch me. Half-falling into his arms, he scoops me up as I begin to sob uncontrollably.

“I’m … sorry … she … ruined … our … perfect … day.” I gasp out between crying jags.

“Shh. Baby, please, she ruined nothing. She’s a bitter old woman who has nothing better in life than to make you feel miserable.”

I wipe my snotty nose on his shirt, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “All of those awful things she said about you. You know I don’t believe one word, Tucker. And you shouldn’t either. We
are
normal.”

I see the doubt creep into his brown eyes. His now-longer curls bounce as he turns his head slightly away from me.

“We
are
. You don’t believe her, right? You’re perfect, and I love our life. We’re happy, or getting there. And your co-workers like you, Jackie likes you. No one thinks that way of you.”

I’m squeezing his arms where he holds my waist as if my hands can will that idea into him.

Tucker still doesn’t look fully convinced when he nods and says, “I know, baby. You’re right.”

I hate my mother. She’s poison. Evil.

And now she’s spreading that poison, infecting my husband with her wretched opinions.

“Tucker, we don’t need them. Any of them. We aren’t going to be our parents. We’re better than them.”

He kisses me, and I can see the confidence come back to his expression. “You’re right. I said it today and I’ll say it again. You’re going to be an amazing mother. My mom, she was weak and has no spine, still to this day. She obeys him when he tells her not to come visit me. And your mother is a snake, she’s poisonous and doesn’t deserve you as a daughter.”

I nod, feeling the energy in him and his words. “We only need each other. You are my family. We are in this together. Through anything.”

Tucker crushes me to his chest. “Our little family of two. I will protect you through everything.”

S
ometimes weeks feel
like they’re blowing by you in a flash of sound and light. And sometimes they feel like they’ve spanned an entire three hundred and sixty-five days they’re going so slow.

This week was of the latter sort, and it felt like it was never going to end. Each morning’s five a.m. wakeup call was like a foghorn in my ears, and all I wanted to do was roll over and take Char in my arms and go back to sleep.

Each shift was grueling, the work we were doing on the new construction project was tough and required long hours.

It felt like I saw Char for two hours each night before we were both just so tired that we had to go up to bed. And then the cycle would start all over again.

So when Friday comes, all I want to do is sit on the couch with my wife in my arms and watch sports. Or whatever mindless show she wants. Because yes, I’ve become one of those husbands who gives his wife control of the remote.

But when I get home, late of course, and yell out for Char, I find she’s in our bathroom upstairs.

“Come up and talk to me!” She yells down.

It’s a chore for me to get up the stairs, my muscles sorer than they’ve been in forever. It feels like I trained a two-a-day today I’m that exhausted.

But not too exhausted that all of the blood in my body doesn’t shoot straight to my dick when I see Char, leaning into the mirror on the bathroom while she puts mascara on. Clad in only a light blue lace thong.

“Hi handsome.” She wiggles her butt at me, and I can’t get my fill of her fast enough.

Her perky tits on display for my view. Her hair, curled and smooth, falling in waves down her naked back. The way her ass is sticking up in the air as she leans against the bathroom counter. The fire engine red lipstick slick around her full mouth.

I come up behind her and can’t resist grabbing her hips and grinding my jeans against her thong-clad ass. I’m hard as a rock in two second flat. No one but Char has ever gotten me like this.

“And to what do I owe this fucking perfect homecoming to?” I’m so focused on how her ass looks pressed up against my zipper that I don’t see her frown.

“Okay, don’t hate me …”

Still distracted by my wife’s naked body, I answer distractedly. “I could never hate you.”

“Good, because I kind of told Jackie we would go out with her tonight.”

Goddammit. I squeeze Char’s sexy hips. “Oh, babe! Come on, I just wanted a low-key night with you.”

She has the decency to look guilty. “I know, I know! But she is trying to pick up this bartender at our favorite bar, and she guilted me into it. She was there so many times for me while you were away. I felt bad.”

I sigh, but I know this is just Char being the sweet person that she is. “Do you think it’s a good idea? Me at a bar?”

I’m only asking her to try and get out of it. I know I’ll be fine. I haven’t been tempted to really touch drugs or alcohol since I’ve gotten out. It would ruin too much. I wouldn’t risk it.

“I think you’ll be okay. And plus, I’m not going to drink. We can have sodas together.”

Of course she already thought of this and is willing to be sober with me. “Fiiiine. I guess I’ll go. But only because my wife is so fucking sexy. But I think you owe me something at the end of the night.”

Char smirks at me as she looks in the mirror. “Oh don’t worry, I’ll happily pay up.”

It strikes me how different my once-shy, reserved wife is now. If there is one good thing that came from me going away to prison, I think it might be that it forced Char to break out of her comfort zone. To push hard for herself and go for things that she really wanted. It makes me even more attracted to her, if that’s possible. I already love her more than anything else on this fucking earth.

* * *

A
night
out at Char and Jackie’s favorite bar is actually more entertaining than I thought it would be. Not only did I get to see Jackie try to finagle a date with the cool bartender Chad, but I got to hear hilarious stories from him about my wife.

“I can’t believe you do Karaoke Thursday’s! Who the hell are you!?”

I tickle her side again as we walk home, my arm around her shoulder and her arm around my waist.

“It’s so much fun. A lot less embarrassing than I ever thought it would be! It’s freeing.”

She smiles and I’m so glad we did this. The night is beautiful and downtown is almost empty, nothing but the streetlights watching us as we stroll towards our condo.

I kiss the top of Char’s head. “You really are different.”

She peers up at me, her brown eyes sparkling in the moonlight. “Is that a bad thing?”

I stop us in the street, the warm night air caressing us as I turn Char towards me and wrap my arms tightly around her waist. “I didn’t mean it like that. And yes, it’s a good thing. I love the shy, reserved Char. But I also love this new version of you. I know what you’re thinking more. I hear your opinions and you’re not afraid to make a crude joke or two. It’s like I’m finally seeing the person you’ve always hidden inside. You’re letting her come out. And I love that.”

She presses her lower body to mine and has my dick straining to break free already. “Alright, Mr. Lynch. I think you definitely earned that favor I owe you.”

We speed walk the rest of the way home, not trying at all to keep our hands off each other. She’s practically giving me a hand job through my jeans she’s rubbing me so hard, and I’ve found her nipples through her bra and shirt, pressing down on the sensitive spots until she’s gasping for air.

By the time we make it to the front door, we’re both so ready for me to be inside of her we might explode.

“I might just fuck you up against this door if you don’t stop fumbling with those keys.”

My dirty words only make her fumble more. A minute later, and with me kneading her ass through her shorts, she thrusts the key into the lock and pulls me inside.

I don’t let her get far though. “I don’t believe we’ve tested out the inside of the door yet.”

I spin her, trapping her between my body and the door at her back. Her eyes flare with desire.

She taunts me while she unbuckles my belt. “Ah, the old back of the door sex, huh? Are we getting old and married? Isn’t this cliché?”

“Oh, baby, there is going to be nothing cliché about how I fuck you right now.”

Closing the gap between us, I press her hard up against the door and take her lips. I give her scalding kiss after scalding kiss, wanting to brand my mouth onto hers. She’s greedy and squirming, her tongue invades my mouth over and over again until we both have to come up for air.

“Touch me, Tucker. Please, God, I want your hands all over me.”

Char loves to talk during sex now, and I find it turns me on even more than her bashfulness. I wouldn’t be surprised if my cock wore the indentation of my zipper. I can’t wait to get inside of her, but I want to play with her. Tease her.

I spin her around and push her front firmly into the door. “How do you want me to touch you?”

I breathe into her ear and then bite the lobe, and am rewarded with a frustrated groan.

“I want your fingers in me, rubbing me.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Snaking the tiny white shorts down her shapely legs, I sink as I pull them down to her ankles. Her plump, perfect ass greets me at eye level, and I can’t resist biting each cheek.

“Oh my God, Tucker …”

I rise up again, nipping at her waist and shoulder as I go.

“You taste fucking delicious,” I growl in Char’s ear.

“I want to touch you …” She makes a move to turn around and I stiff arm her, pushing her firmly against the door.

“Nope, you wanted
me
to touch
you
. So stay still and let me.”

With one hand pressed against her back to hold her, I lean my lips into her neck and begin sucking at the sensitive spot below her ear. Her hips buck and I reach my other hand down between her legs. I run a finger between the seam of her ass and she shivers, but I keep going until my hand is fully underneath her.

And then I plunge two fingers into her dripping wet slit without warning.

“Oh my God!” Char bites out a scream, but I know it feels good from the way she thrusts herself onto my fingers.

“Mmm, yeah, does that feel good baby?”

She’s panting as I work her pussy. “More. Please, more.”

I remove my hand from her back, knowing she’ll stay put as long as I’m stroking her with my fingers. Struggling, I undo my jeans with one hand and pull my cock free. The minute the air makes contact with my hard tool I hiss. I’m so hot and ready for her it’s going to be hell holding off until she comes first.

I rub my hard dick against her smooth ass cheek as my fingers work her clit. “I’m not going to push inside of you until you come on my fingers. So you better hurry up.”

“It feels so good, Tuck.” She whispers against the wood at her cheek.

I grind my thumb against her clit as I thrust two fingers up into her. “We just talked about you not being shy anymore. None of this whispering shit, baby, I want to hear you scream.”

My hand works her over and over, invading her as I grind my cock against her pert globe.

“Yes! Oh my God, Tucker, yes!” She starts to scream and growl as her channel tightens around me.

“That’s it, baby. Come for me.”

“Tucker!” Char screams my name as she lets it all go.

I pull my fingers out of her as the waves of her orgasm crash over her and she uses her hands to brace herself against the door.

I don’t give her a second to recover as I push my pants and boxers down to my knees, grab her hips, and sheath myself in her tight wetness.

“Ahh!” My entrance catches her off guard and there is more moaning screams.

“I love when you’re loud.” I growl in her ear as I pump into her pussy.

“So give me something else to scream about,” She moans back as she tilts her head and captures my lips.

Oh, fuck yeah. Challenge accepted.

I rut my hips against her perfect ass, burying myself again and again to the balls and making us both shake and cry out for our impending releases.

“You almost there, baby? I want you to make the neighbors hear it. I want them to hear you screaming my name.”

Char nods against the door, her voice gone for the moment as instinct takes over and we push and pull against each other. We work together, thrusting and moaning and growling as our releases take us both.

With our pants around our ankles, up against the front door of our condo, Char and I melt into each other. One singular being of pleasure. Of joy. Of love.