Tia Louise's Blog: ONE TO BLOG - Posts Tagged "single-dad"

EXCERPT
MAKE ME YOURS
By Tia Louise
© TLM Productions LLC, 2019

Remi

“What are you doing in here?” Her voice is soft, a little flustered, but I can tell she’s trying to tease me.

She’s standing there in cotton shorts and a thin tee with “Dream Big” printed on the front. A robe hangs from her shoulders, but it’s open. I watch as her eyes travel over me fast, her cheeks blushing pink.

“You blush easily.”

“Do I?” Her voice is soft, and she grins, her cheeks growing pinker. “I never did before. I didn’t mean to catch you in your underwear.”

Glancing down, I see the wife beater I’m wearing doesn’t cover much. I’m sweaty, my hair’s a mess, and I’m standing barefoot in the kitchen. “I just got back from a run. I thought everyone had gone to bed.”

“Lillie’s in bed.” She comes closer. “I don’t know where Eleanor is.”

Lifting my chin, I return to the refrigerator, where I’m holding the door open. “I just needed a little something more to help me sleep. I was thinking about Lillie’s leftovers, wishing we had something like cookies or pigs in blankets.”

She almost laughs. “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to contaminate Lillie with my horrible food choices.”

“You should have a baking day, make cookies.”

Her voice turns sassy. “Are you saying you want my cookies?”

“I’ll eat your cookies.” I give her a wink, meaning it in every way.

She snorts a laugh, and it makes me smile. I love when she plays with me. Returning to the fridge, I take out a plastic container of what looks like cantaloupe. When I open it, it smells like alcohol.

“Hm.” I study the salmon-colored fruit. “This might be bad. I’m going to need you to taste it for me.”

“I don’t think so. That’s not my job.” She does a hop, and she’s sitting on the bar.

Perfect. I step between her legs, lifting out a cube. “You’re saying you won’t taste this to be sure it won’t hurt me?”

Holding it up, I lightly trace the corner across her full bottom lip. She pulls her head back. “It smells like it’s fermented.”

“Will you nurse me if I get sick?” I pop it in my mouth, imagining her in a sexy nurse outfit. It makes my dick twitch. “Tastes okay.”

“I wouldn’t eat too much of it.”

Stepping to the fridge again, I find a smaller container of strawberries and take it out. “How about this?” I hold a slice of strawberry to her lips. “Don’t you like strawberries?”

“Yes and no—the seeds get stuck in my teeth.”

Parting my lips, I watch as her mouth opens slightly. Her pink tongue slips out and tastes the fruit before she pulls it between her white teeth.

I have a full-on semi at the sight, and I put the other half in my mouth. “It’s juicy and sweet, just like you.”

“Remi…” Her voice is a warning, but my hands go to her thighs.

I slide them higher as I lean closer, possession running hot in my veins. “I don’t like you talking to Henry Pak. I don’t want you going to his condo when he’s moved in. I don’t want him calling you.”

Her eyebrows rise, and her hands grip my wrists, stopping my progress. I’m ready to devour her like that fruit, and I’m pretty sure she sees it in my eyes.

“That’s not your business.” Her voice is low, thick, and her breath is a little faster.

“I can make it my business.”

“How?” Her brow quirks, but her grip on my wrists loosens.

“I don’t want Lillie around him.”

“Henry’s polite, he’s a doctor, he’s Korean…” Her lips twist into a cute frown. “He’s just the type of guy my mother would love.”

“Now I really don’t like him.” That makes her laugh. “Besides, you don’t like polite men. I can tell.”

Her eyes narrow. “How can you tell?”

“I watch and learn. Figuring out what you like has become my favorite pastime.” My hands start to move again, but she catches my wrists.

Her chin lifts, and when our eyes meet, it’s electric, like always. “What are you saying?”

I’m not sure exactly. “You’re important to me… I care about what you’re doing. It matters in a way I didn’t expect.”

“I really need to find my own place.”

* * *
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THIS MUCH IS TRUE
By Tia Louise
© TLM Productions LLC, 2020

J.R.

With my back to the San Francisco traffic, I hold the railing of the iconic, vermillion bridge and watch the sun set over the Pacific Ocean.

Two hundred and forty-five feet below me, the frigid water of the bay swirls past, and behind me is the building where I spent the last eighteen months of my life, paying for a crime I didn’t commit.

My hair is long to my collar. My body is lean and ripped with muscle to intimidate anyone who thought he’d get the best of me.

I’ve lived with the funk of brown Lysol, body odor, and urine so long, I forgot fresh air could smell so sweet.

At five p.m., a guard came to my cell, rattled the bars like some old cheesy black and white movie, and told me to get my shit together.

Time to go.

I was halfway through a four-year prison sentence, and last night, they said it was over, early release.

Confused is an understatement for how I felt, but I wasn’t about to argue. I started making plans.

“You can thank the tree huggers for this miscarriage of justice.” The woman behind the desk scowled as she spoke, like the words tasted bad. “Wouldn’t want you getting sick. It might violate your civil rights.”

Rage smoldered in my chest, and I didn’t make eye contact with her. This whole eighteen months has been a violation of my civil rights, but why should she care?

Since the start of this nightmare, nobody cared. I said it once, twice, three thousand times. I. Didn’t. Do. It.

Nobody gave a shit.

Not even my court-appointed lawyer believed me. I was caught with illegal human growth hormone, and that’s all they saw. No one looked at the receipt for perfectly legal adaptogen supplements, which is what I thought I was picking up. I was a redneck from South Carolina with a trunk full of HGH. Case closed.

I entered San Quentin and kept my head down. I made allies with the biggest, meanest guys, and the quiet ones who stayed to themselves. I learned to be ready to fight always.

I started my prison sentence resolved the next time I saw my father, I wouldn’t let up until he was begging for mercy.

Now I’m a free man.

Sort of.

I’m out, and I’m headed back to look him in the eye. He sent me here, and I want to know why.

Staring out across the dark waters, I make a vow. I’m getting back everything I’ve lost. I don’t know how the man who put me here will make it happen, but we’ll sort that out when I get home.

Snatching my navy canvas bag off the ground, I start walking.

* * *
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THIS MUCH IS TRUE
By Tia Louise
© TLM Productions LLC, 2020

J.R.

She exhales a sigh. “Remember when people used to go out to bars and dance?”

My eyes close briefly, and I’m in this space of memory with her. “I haven’t danced in a long time.”

We sway side to side, holding each other.

“You’re still good at it.” Her chin pulls back, and she blinks warm blue eyes up at me.

Our gaze tangles and heats, and she rises on her toes. Her fingers curl in my shirt. “I’d like to kiss you.”

Heat flares in my veins. I’ve wanted to kiss her for two days, but I’ve been fighting it. “Hope…”
Hope Eternal Hill is light and pure, and I can’t be the black storm that smashes all her dreams with my quest for revenge.

“It’s been too long.” She whispers, sliding her nose along my cheek. “For both of us.”

Her fingers trace behind my neck, into my hair, and I push her back against the door. Cupping her cheeks, I cover her full lips with mine and devour them.

She makes a little noise, and I kiss her deeper. Her mouth opens, and I slide my tongue against hers, tasting her sweetness.

She’s syrupy whiskey mixed with a hint of coffee.

Her arms are around my neck, and her soft breasts crush against my chest. Sliding my hands up her torso, I cup them through the fabric, squeezing them and circling my thumbs over the hardened tips. She moans, and my dick is an iron rod in my pants.

“God…” I lift my chin, and her lips move to my throat.

Her tongue slides along my skin, and I’m fighting. I want to fuck her. My whole body craves it, the satisfaction I know is waiting between her thighs. It would be so easy to lift her leg and plunge deep… again and again.

Her hand is on my waist, tugging at my shirt, and I catch it. “Wait.”

Her brows clench as she looks up at me. “What’s wrong?”

Our eyes meet, and I’m hanging on by a thread. “You don’t know me.”

“I know enough.” She leans up again, putting her hot mouth against my jaw. “I know you didn’t touch me last night when I was naked in your hotel room. I know you ran into danger to protect your brother. I know you’re fighting what’s happening right now…”

“You have no idea.”

Her lips are at my ear. “Haven’t you ever been reckless?”

* * *
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