Page 82 of Blackout

It’s true.

Danny makes a beeline for Blackie anytime we go over to my dad’s. They talk sports and Blackie never hesitates in telling my brother to grab a football or a baseball so they can have a catch. Watching them together over the years gave me a glimpse into our future and I often found myself picturing my husband in the yard with our own son.

I know a little boy needs his dad and yeah, Danny is getting cheated out of that, but I don’t believe for one second that it’s Blackie’s fault. He may have dropped the gun and all that but men like my father and Victor Pastore were never destined to be family guys. They were criminals before anything else and there was never a happy ending in their future. If this didn’t happen, there would’ve been something else that took my dad away from us.

My dad knows that and one day, Danny will too. He’ll realize his father always knew his luck would eventually run out and instead of letting some dealer dictate how his streak ended, he took control of his final hand and cashed in, making sure his family was taken care of.

It’s too late for him but it’s not for Blackie.

He paved the path for my husband to give up a life of crime. I might not have seen it at first and maybe I’m the only one who does, but my father is teaching Blackie how to be the leader of the Parrish family simply by absolving him of his sins and throwing him into the role.

“Yeah, until—"

“Danny is going to be fine,” I say, cutting him off. “If my father thought for one second, he wouldn’t be taken care of, he wouldn’t have entertained this deal. But he’s got you and he’s got me. He’s trusting us and we’re not going to fail, Blackie. You and I always thought we were going to be the couple at the head of the table representing the Satan’s Knights, well, there has been a change in plans. Now, we’re the couple sitting at the head of this family, of the Parrish family, and together, we’re going to make him proud.”

He stares at me quietly for a moment before a faint smile ticks the corners of his mouth.

“You’re so much like him and not in the ways that you think,” he whispers thoughtfully, reaching behind me to cup the back of my head. With his free hand, he pokes a finger between my breasts. “You inherited the best part of him.”

“Seeing as I inherited his illness, I’m not really sure that’s—”

He cuts me off, bending his head to touch his forehead to mine.

“You inherited his heart, Lace,” he murmurs. “And that’s a beautiful fucking thing because no one in this world loves as hard as Jack loves.”

That right there is the best compliment I could ever receive, and it makes my eyes instantly well with fresh tears. Blinking, I force them not to fall and focus on the man staring at me as if he’s photographing me with his eyes. After a beat his gaze drops to my lips, and he hesitates for a fraction of a second before claiming my mouth. His kiss is surprisingly gentle. It quickly turns and his mouth moves urgently and with purpose over mine.

A slow burn spreads through my body as his tongue slides between my lips, exploring the recesses of my mouth. The exhaustion I felt earlier seems to fade with every swipe of his tongue and my arms wind around his neck. Rolling onto my back, I keep my lips locked with his and bring him on top of me. Settling between my legs, his teeth pull at my lower lip and a whimper escapes my throat. He silences me by pushing his tongue back in my mouth and I match his vigor, pushing my fingers through his hair, holding the back of his head steady as I get a better angle on him.

We kiss and we kiss until our lips swell and the hardness of his erection presses against my belly. His lips leave mine only to take purchase on my neck. He nibbles and sucks, bruising my skin, marking me his. Desperate for more, I arch my hips, grinding against him. He groans as he tears his mouth from my neck and reclaims my lips.

Frantically his hands push under the hem of my t-shirt, traveling up my sides until his thumbs caress the undersides of my breasts. Flying high on the sensations building between my legs and consumed by the smoldering kisses, I don’t think to warn him about my aching breasts and when he squeezes them in his hands, I tear my mouth away from his and push him away. My hands move to my chest and a whimper leaves my lips as I caress them in an attempt to relieve the ache.

Panting from our kiss, he mutters a curse as he watches me gently palm my tits over the fabric of my t-shirt. Confusion mars his features as he licks his lips and pulls my hands away from my chest.

“Did I hurt you?”

“They’ve been really sore,” I explain. “And hard,” I add. “I could probably knock someone out with these bad boys,” I say, offering him half of a smile.

“Let me see,” he says, tipping his chin towards the t-shirt covering me.

Arching an eyebrow, I cock my head to the side.

“Blackie….”

“I’m not going to maul you,” he retorts, shaking the hair away from his eyes. “Take your shirt off.”

Rolling my eyes, I reach for the hem of the t-shirt and lift my head, pulling it over. The cold air hits my nipples and they instantly harden into peaks.

“Christ,” he growls, palming his cock over his sweatpants. “How didn’t I notice how big they’ve gotten?”

I point a finger at his shoulder.

“You’ve been kind of occupied with other things.”

Ignoring my half-ass attempt at wit, his heated gaze continues to rack over breasts.

“Lay back,” he orders as his hands find the insides of my thighs. Pushing them further apart, he settles between my legs.

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