Page 43 of At The End Of The Day

I let go of Edwina’s hand and met her halfway for a hug. “Hey. Thanks for helping me out. I know it’s short notice, but—”

“Oh, please.” She stood upright then squatted to look at the kids. “Hello, you two. My name is Rebecca. You must be Eddie, and you have to the Edwina.”

They turned into my leg, hiding from the stranger.

My pulse banging at my eardrums, I peeked behind her into the house but didn’t see any movement. Petting their heads, I coughed and looked down, unable to avoid gazing down her cleavage. Tearing my focus away, I stammered a bit. “Hey, uh…g-g-guys. It’s okay. You’re gonna like it here.”

“Of course, they are,” she teased, rising to her full height. Her hands on her wide hips, she leaned to one leg. “I just made some extra chocolatey brownies. I’m about to have a bowl with some vanilla ice cream, caramel drizzle, and whipped cream. You two wanna join?”

Just that easily, their hesitation was gone, their little faces glowing.

In awe, Edwina whispered, “Caramel?”

“Whipped cream, too?” Eddie cried, vibrating with just the concept of that major sugar rush.

“You want a cherry on top, too?”

“Yes!” Edwina piped in but then shrunk, covering her mouth.

Rebecca winked and motioned them in. “You can’t really have a dessert like this without a cherry. You are a girl after my own heart. C’mon, let’s go.”

We stepped into the long, narrow foyer and I closed the door. She ushered them toward the kitchen, craning her neck to peer back at me. “Billy’s in the garage, tinkering on that dang bike again.”

My eyelids rounded, everything inside sinking. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mm hm. Now you ain’t leaving here before you’ve had a bowl of brownies and ice cream, too, y’hear?”

I forced a smile and jutted my chin, pausing at the door that led to the garage. “Okay. We’ll be in in a bit. Gonna see if I can help him a bit.”

She blew a kiss and disappeared around the corner to the kitchen, chatting away to the kids. Licking my lips, they pursed with a ragged exhale as I turned the knob and stepped down into the garage. A large, industrial fan was set up in the corner, blowing cool air around the closed in area, music blasting from a speaker on the shelf. Closing the door, I held my breath, my muscles tight while I gradually made my way around the four door, lifted pickup truck.

On the other side, squatting next to an old Harley, was Billy. His blond hair was pulled back in a messy bun, a couple strands falling around his sweaty face. Wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, the white tank top was stained with grease, showing off his thick muscles heavily tattooed.

My focus zeroed in on one on his bicep, recalling the day he got it. Fresh out of high school, we’d gone to a friend of a friend who was new in his apprenticeship at a local shop. Setting up in his living room since it wasn’t legal at the business, he’d put the permanent mark on his arm. Roman numerals to represent a specific date with a lavender sprig woven between the lines. That may have been his first, but it had not been his last, not by a long shot. Yet, no matter what he got, he never covered it up, nor had he tried to hide it amongst the other ink.

So many changes since he got that brand. In my mind’s eye, I saw a long, lanky, pale arm swollen red with the fresh ink slowly transforming over the years to the dark tanned bicep with the bulging muscles it was today. It was his biggest secret visible for everyone to see, but not know.

He stood and tossed the tool on top of the others, wiping his arm across his forehead. In the process, he spotted me and froze. Swiping the rag hanging from the truck’s sideview mirror, he wiped his hands and turned to face me fully.

“Damn, Vinny. It’s been way too long since you’ve stopped by for a visit.”

My stomach cramping with nerves, I stiffly nodded and inched closer. “Yeah, sorry it’s because I need a favor.”

He snorted and tossed the rag to the seat of the bike. “What, are you kidding? Ain’t complaining.” He smiled and strolled closer. Speaking just loud enough to be heard over the music and fan, he added, “Anything to get you here,” grabbed the front of my shirt, and yanked me behind the truck. A second later, his lips were crushing down on mine, his tongue sweeping deep.

I groaned and slumped against the back passenger door, gripping the sides of his thick neck. The scent of his sweat combined with the grease was intoxicating, the taste of his kiss getting me drunk. It had been far too long.

Breaking away, our noses still touching, he was gazing deep into my eyes, his hot pants on my face. “Where’s Becca?”

“In the kitchen with the kids.”

Snarling, he reclaimed my lips and frantically tugged at my jeans. Lust scorching through my veins, my cock got hard, my hand dipping into his sweats to fist his. He grunted and thrust, shoving my jeans down and spinning me around. Slamming me into the door, his forearm pressed against my shoulder blades, he spit on his fingertips, tucked them between my cheeks, and rubbed them at the tiny hole.

“Oh, shit,” I groaned, my palms spread over the window. I jutted my hips to give him better access, my eyelids closing.

His mouth near my ear, he grumbled, “Don’t you dare fucking cum, Vinny.”

Dizzy, my forehead banged to the window, tingles spreading down my spine. He guided his cock into place, added a bit of pressure, and then slammed deep.