Page 12 of At Last

4.

Caitlin

To get the movie watching underway, I set my drink and bowl down on the tabletop, sit my butt down on a cushion, scoop up the remote, and pause to listen for Jade. When I don’t hear any buzzer or little girl noises, I assume she’s still resting. With a quick glance over to Duke to urge him to get situated, I press the pay-per-view button and begin to scroll.

“What do you feel like watching?” I ask.

Duke’s response is to sit down right next to me so our thighs press together, and he plucks the remote from my hand to take over scrolling duty.

I turn to stare at his audacity.

That’s when he decides to explain, “There’s pussy domain and there’s dick domain. When a dick is around, remotes fall squarely into dick domain.” He explains without looking at me but continuing to peruse the movie options.

Dick domain? I bite back the laugh. It’s been Jade and me on our own for so long, even before her dad left us, looking back on the situation with a less love addled mind. I forgot how possessive men can be about the television. And yes, it’s my house, but the man cooked me dinner. I don’t have the heart to argue it out today.

He stops on some action-packed, espionage shoot ’em up. The kind full of explosions and too many bullets shot from a clip, magically without needing to be reloaded.

Duke toes off his boots, hoists one foot up and rests it on the table, then crosses the other overtop. I hand him his bowl then his drink, which he tucks between the sofa arm and his body. And in a move I don’t expect, he pulls me, chili bowl and cornbread in hand, so I’m half on top of him. We’re leaned so close together that I have no choice but to fold my legs and tuck them under me, pushing my toes under the cushion next to me to get more comfortable, if that’s possible. Because as I’ve found, Duke Ellis, Brimstone Lord President, happens to be damn comfortable.

It’s awkward at first, the way he pushes my head to rest on his shoulder. An awkward way to eat. But I don’t move from the spot until it’s time to set my bowl down. Then he tugs me right back into my previously held position.

In a particularly gruesome death scene full of blood and guts, I gasp and tuck my face into Duke’s T-shirt, burrowing deeper into his side. He chuckles at my reaction, the sound vibrating his broad chest while the solidness of him beneath me makes me feel safe and warm, if not slightly put-off.

“What are you laughing at?” I demand, though my words hold no heat.

“You deal with blood and guts on a daily basis, and a crappy movie grosses you out?”

Incredulously, I roll my eyes. “I see the aftermath of explosions and gun fights. I’m not there while they happen, just help after they do.”

He stops laughing then. “My uncle, the man practically raised me after my pops got sent down—prison—he was the president of the club. My uncle. And the club’s dirty money took care of us kids.” Duke doesn’t go on, staring back at the television. But he can’t start a story like that and not finish, so I lay my hand against his chest, giving it a slight bit of pressure in a way, to tell him it’s safe to go on.

On a nod, he continues. “It’s nothing. Just—my mother couldn’t object to us hanging around the club because my uncle wanted us thereandshe accepted weekly deposits into her bank account. He didn’t have any sons. When my older brother Rex turned eighteen, he patched in. Started his prospect period when he turned sixteen and got his license. Same with me. For two years, I did every disgusting job my uncle and brother and all the men could think of.”

“Okay?”

“You wanted to be a doctor, I’ll bet your whole life.”

Slowly, I nod.

“I never had dreams like that. I just always knew I’d follow my family into the club. That was, until I met Dawna. Then I knew I’d follow the family into the club and marry Dawna. Every decision I made was for one, the other, or both.”

“And now?” I ask, swallowing hard. For some reason nervous about his answer.

“Now, for the first time in my life, I want something just for me.”

I don’t know how to respond, so I lean up, close my eyes and press my mouth to his. I mean it to be quick. But in true Duke fashion, the fashion I’ve found since spending time with the man both when he liked me and didn’t, he folds his body over mine to take over the kiss like he takes over everything.

Taking over the kiss, for Duke, means nipping, licking and pressing deep and long. The glide of his lips, wet, silky smooth decadence, like the finest Belgian chocolate. And as everyone who has been to Europe knows, Belgians make the finest chocolate.

Drinking in all that’s Duke, I feel intoxicated. Aside from his mind-blowing lip prowess, I think he just told me that he wants me. Me. Though the question is for how long? Does he only want sex? Or does hewant me, want me?

I’m a mother. If he only wants sex, I suppose I could do that, but he can’t show up here. He can’t spend time around my daughter, get her attached and then scrape us both off like her father did. I can’t let that happen again. We’ll need boundaries.

“Duke.” I finally pluck up the courage to say, breathy yet firm. Or as firm as I can make it being this tuned on. His mouth stills, though his lips stay pressed gently to my neck, and the pulse point, pulsing erratically where his lips point.

I gather my thoughts by closing my eyes, then open them and push back so I can look him inhisstunningly gray, almost silver eyes. “If you want sex from me, I’ve never been anyone’s uh—side piece—before.” And I clear my throat for something to do because of how intensely he’s staring. “But well, you know I like you, and can probably do that. I just can’t have you at my house. I’m a single mom. I can’t have Jade get attached—”

“Shut it, Doc,” he says right before he kisses me again. Hard, openmouthed andpassionate. And as he continues to kiss me, Duke grabs the hem of my shirt and whips it up over my head with no preamble, leaving me in only my pale, lacy blue bra.

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