Page 15 of Rebel

“Let’s go home, Rebel.”

Oh shit, didn’t mean to say it like that. Damn, she’s gonna think I’m a control freak. But nope, not Rebel, she grabs my hand, swinging it up and down like a teenage girl who’s crushing on a boy. I get her settled into the passenger seat of my car and then walk around to the driver’s side and get in. Thank God my house isn’t that far, just under what I’d say is nine or ten minutes. When we get there, I pull into the garage, turning I tell her to stay. I can tell she’s fighting on telling me to go to hell, but again, this is Rebel, who’s never what you think. When we walk into the house, I see her shock. Because I promised myself the boys deserved only the best home possible, I made sure it’s homey with an open floorplan. Yeah, I see kid shit here and there that the boys haven’t put away, but it’s not only clean but tidy too. Hey, four bachelors live here, so not too shabby,

“Close that mouth, Rebel, or I’ll take that as an invitation, which I know it’s not. What shocked you?”

“Well, and you’re right, not an invitation. The place is so warm and welcoming. And, yeah, I’m shocked at how tidy and organized it is. You must be a great dad, Atlas, the boys are lucky to have you.”

I stalk toward her, never taking my eyes from hers. Instead of kissing her, I lean down and lift her up. She immediately wraps those long legs of hers around my waist, which has me kissing her ’cause I have the urge to taste her again. And, damn, can this woman kiss. Don’t think there’s another woman I’ve wanted to worship like I do her. To be frank and honest, I’m usually not a fan of French kissing. My trips to Billings usually have none of the niceties, just get down to business. But shit, to my surprise, I can’t get enough of Rebel’s unique taste. It mesmerizes meevery time I try to pull away. In a fantasy world, I could kiss this woman all day and night.

I move into my bedroom, instead of going to the bed I made just this morning, which I know surprises her when I pass it to enter the master bathroom. I hear her soft moan when she says quietly, “Oh my God, I’ve died and gone to Heaven.” That brings a smirk to my face as I gently place her on the counter and turn to start the tub. Reaching over, I pull a few jars and ask her lavender, rose, or musk. She tells me to put the rose and musk in and that brings a smile to my face.

“What’s that smile for?” Rebel asks me shyly.

“You’re perfect, Rebel. I want you to relax. I’m going to go downstairs and make some chamomile tea and some scrambled eggs. Don’t argue, we need to get back to our normal routine. We’ll eat then go to bed to sleep. Don’t give me that look, sweetheart, we’re both exhausted, and for our first time it’s not gonna be a quick fuck. We’ll do those too, I promise the hard and fast, but I want to take my time with you, taste you, and indulge both of our fantasies. Can’t do that being so spent with the emotional overload we’ve both experienced today. I’ll talk to my folks and once Kon is home and feeling his normal self, the boys can spend a weekend with their grandparents. You good with that, sweetheart?”

She’s staring at me like she’s in a trance so I wait. Fuck, it’s been so damn long since I’ve had any interest in a singular woman. I’m in awe of this woman for some reason. When she softly says, “Yes.” I tell her she’s my good girl, which I see causes the flush on her face. She likes that so I put that in the folder in my head. I help her down and then kiss her button nose first, then her full as fuck lips. Not hot and heavy but just as good. Before I make a fool out of myself, I turn to walk out but swing around, intently watching her. My God, she’s so stunning, even exhausted, she takes my breath away.

“Rebel, get used to this. We aren’t going to play games. This is the two of us agreeing to see if this can work. You and I are adults who are entertaining a relationship. Take your time and come down when you’re done.”

Then I turn and walk out, closing the door. She needs time to digest what I’ve been trying to put out there. Now I need to make us some eggs, then get Rebel into my bed before jumping in the shower. There I can take care of this beast between my legs ’cause I’ll never be able to sleep next to her smokin’ body with this problem swinging between my thighs. Yeah, for some reason I’ve reverted into a horny teenager with his first girl. What the fuck am I doing?Only time will tell if it’s a good or bad thing,is my last thought before I put on the kettle and start cracking some eggs.

NINE

‘REBEL’

MYA

Watching the door close after Atlas walked out, I’m stunned and kind of out of it as I remove my clothes, step into the bath, and as soon as I take a whiff, I get why he smiled. The rose smells like me, but the musk is definitely all Atlas. Together the scent is the mixture of both of us together. A thought pops into my head.I don’t know why she left, but his ex-wife is fucking crazy to let this man and those boys go. Her loss is definitely my gain.And I’m not crazy or stupid.Then I lay my head back and let the water and scents do their job of relaxing me, when it suddenly hits me. Besides Taz and my club sisters, no one, and I mean no one, has ever taken care of me like he’s doing. My God, it should be him in this tub trying to wash off this day. But nope, Atlas is one of those men who will always put those he cares about first. Not saying he’s madly in love but it’s pretty obvious something is starting between the two of us. One thing we have to keep at the forefront is it’s not only the two of us, there are three boys who are also involved. I promise myself at this moment, in his tub, no matter how much I want this—and I do—if it starts to hurt any of the boys, I’ll walk. No matter how much it kills.

With my head back, I close my eyes and do what my bestie is always preaching. I try to do, shit, can’t remember what Tazcalls them, but I try to relax and take deep breaths. I feel my body start to decompress and I kind of drift into a very comfortable zone between wakefulness and sleep. I don’t hear the soft knocking on the door or see the door opening with Atlas sticking his head in. The next thing I know, I’m smelling something fruity, like apples, with an outdoor scent like fresh-cut grass. Slowly opening my eyes, I see a steaming mug in front of me. I continue my venture, tilting my head and, yeah, there is Atlas with a cup of what smells like chamomile tea for me. I softly smile, leaning forward. I reach for the mug and take a drink. Aww.

“Wow, this is perfect, Atlas. Thank you.”

“My mom gets it from one of those New Age places, but I have to agree with you, it’s perfect. Okay, take another sip then let’s get you out of this tub, the water’s cooling off. Don’t want ya to get sick.”

I giggle, for Christ’s sake, he’s a doctor. That’s an old wives’ tale. He grabs my mug and holds out a huge towel. Oh no, not happening. I’ve not shaved or groomed my “girlie garden” in quite a while, as there was no need. Not how I want him to see all of me the first time.

“Nope, not happening. Put the towel on that stool thingy and get out. I’ll be down in a minute or two. Scoot.”

He tilts his head in that way he does when he’s, I’m guessing, analyzing the situation. I’ve seen him do the exact thing with the boys, so I wait. In this aspect we are different, and I don’t want to change that about him. He nods, places the towel down, and walks out, closing the door behind him. I waste no time getting to my knees then standing up awkwardly. Reaching for the towel, I wrap myself up and step out of the tub. Going to the sink, I grab the toothpaste and put a little on my finger to freshen up my mouth. I had put my hair in a messy bun so I leave it and open the door, walking into Atlas’s bedroom. Man,for a guy, it’s so nice and clean. I wonder if he has a cleaning lady. Looking around, I see on the corner of the made bed is a sweatshirt and shorts. I grab the top first and pull it on. I can’t believe how big it is because I’m not a tiny girl by any means. His shorts actually almost fit. I mean, he has that V-shape with huge shoulders narrowing down to that tight waist and hips. Love the smell of his clothes, they smell so fresh.

Going back in the bathroom, I rinse his tub, put the towel on the hook, and grab my chamomile tea and head down. When I turn toward where I think the kitchen would be, my nose picks up on some tantalizing scents. So the doctor can cook too. I wonder what he can’t do. Making my way into the kitchen, I see two plates on the counter filled with eggs, fruit, and toast, with a few different kinds of jelly in front of the plates, and finally a huge container of ketchup. That makes me want to fall in love with him. My club sisters give me so much shit for putting ketchup on my scrambled eggs.

“Hey, if you don’t use ketchup, no worries. All my boys do and I’ve even come to like it, to my surprise. Sit down. Let me get some more hot tea. Hand me your cup.”

As I watch him, it hits me how comfortable he is in the kitchen. Guess that happens with raising three kids on his own. When he picks up a mini strainer and pours the tea through it, I laugh. Of course, why would Atlas use a simple tea bag.

“Come on, cut me some slack, sweetheart. You know it tastes so much better than the crap you buy at the grocery store. Now let’s eat before it gets cold.”

And that is exactly what we do. I devour my food like I’ve been starved for a week. It’s so good and crap, it’s only eggs, fruit, and some toast with jelly. What totally blows me away is, at my age, he’s the first man to cook me breakfast or dinner or anything. The few men I’ve been with since turning twenty-one have been losers, each and every one. Taz is right, I shoot for thatlevel of men because that’s what I think I deserve. Atlas is tilting my center, along with my way of thinking, and for some reason I like it. Again, with him, I feel a safety that never in my life have I felt. I reach for his hand and give it a squeeze.

“Thank you, Atlas. You have no idea how much this means to me. This is our first date and I’ll cherish it forever.”

“Aww, Rebel, sweetheart, you have no idea what’s coming your way. Now eat up, don’t know about you, but I’m dead on my feet.”

The conversation flows with an ease I can’t believe. When we finish, I tell Atlas to go take his shower and I’ll clean up. I can see he doesn’t like it but he concedes this time. He’s so tidy and organized that really all I have to do is put some things in the refrigerator and wipe the plates and dump them in the dishwasher. I wipe down the counters and turn the lights off. By the time I make it back to his bedroom, he’s already in bed asleep. My poor baby. My head snaps back, then I let the feeling of knowing, if I want, he could be my baby. What’s holding me back are the never-ending voices in my head telling me he can do better, that I’m scum, and if he finds out about my past life, he’ll leave me at the curb. Actually I’ve only shared bits and pieces with my club sisters with Taz knowing the most but not the entire history.

As soon as I get into bed, he moves so we are spooning and I can feel he has no pajama pants on. Oh shit. Then I feel his breath across my ear and cheek.

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