Southern Seduction (32 page)

I bring my focus back to her pussy. It’s so plump and wet—so ready. I feel my cock, unbelievably, harden more at this. I think keeping the pace slow may kill me. Cause of death: cock explosion.

I pull back the hood and dive in. Shelby’s hips buck like crazy and my name leaves her lips every few seconds.
She’s mine. This is mine.
The thought plays over in my head, fueling my fire, making me attack her like an animal that hasn’t eaten in weeks. I slide two fingers inside her and hook them to make sure I get the right spot while I suck, bite, and lick at her clit. Shelby grips my hair and shoots her hips up hard, holding them there while she lets out a feral groan. I slow my pace as her hips come down, offering a few more soothing licks to her pussy before I carry on with my journey. I run my tongue up her stomach after dipping it into her belly button, nipping at her skin ‘til I reach her breast and pull her left nipple into my mouth. I suck at it, then grind it between my teeth. Her hands thread through my hair and tug harshly.

“Kip, please,” she begs. I release her nipple and attack her mouth. Hard. I’ve never wanted someone so badly in my life. Her hips lift off the bed to gyrate against mine. “Please,” she murmurs against my lips. I reach over to my nightstand for a condom. My hand searches frantically ‘til I pull away from her to look.
Well, shit.
I let out a disappointed sigh and shake my fucking head. Of all the goddamn times to run out of condoms.

“Kip?”

“I don’t have any protection, Red,” I inform her, then lay my forehead against hers.

“I’m on the patch. Are you clean? I mean, do you always protect yourself?” she asks nervously.

“Always, baby.” I kiss her nose.
Except when I’m coming down Missy’s throat.
Fuck—why did I just go there?

“Okay, then,” she whispers before leaning up to graze my lips with hers. I jerk my head back to look down into her beautiful green eyes. I remember how amazing I thought these eyes were that day at the Johnson party. I slide my hand down between us as I continue to stare. I grab myself and press against her center. I guide it up and down, getting my tip wet with come. One final dip down, and I sink into her deeply. Shelby gasps and throws her head back. Her lips form the perfect “O” shape, and I’m suddenly having a hard time steadying my breath.

“Christ, baby, you’re tight,” I groan. I whip her left leg around me before I pull back and enter her even further. She lets out a yelp that sets me on fire. Well, that and the fact that I’ve never gone bareback with anyone before. It’s amazing.

Several moments in, Shelby seems to adjust to me and begins to match my rhythm. I’ve never made love before. It’s achingly slow, but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t feel this with anyone else.

We’ve been at it for at least a good fifteen minutes, and I’m soaked with sweat. I’ve tried to talk it down, but I feel my balls tightening. I reach down to find her clit and apply pressure and stimulation with my fingers.

“Kip!” she calls out, her nails digging into my back. She squeezes around me and I grunt my approval. Her teeth clamp down on my shoulder as she hits her full peak. Her whimpers coax me to let go. I feel the surge in the pit of my stomach. My balls get even tighter as it rushes up my cock, and I release an animalistic growl to match my explosion. I take in several gaspy breaths as I finish. My muscles relax after my last thrust, and her body follows suit.

We lay, still connected, in a sea of silence as we try to catch our breath. There’s no other place I’d rather be—ever again. I lift my head and she sweeps my sweaty bangs away from my forehead. I want to say somethin’, but in our usual way, we stare at each other—and I realize that sometimes no words are needed. Sometimes, you just need to spend the time feeling what you are feeling. Lucky for me, from the look in her eyes, she’s feeling the same thing I am.
I hope our kids have her nose.
I place a soft, barely there kiss on it. She closes her eyes, allowing a small smile to grace her face. I reach between us and pull out, watchin’ her wince. I climb off of her and roll onto my side. She follows suit, backing into me. I run my hand up and down her hip and waist ‘til I finally wrap my arm around her and lay my head next to hers. I inhale deeply her wonderful smell before driftin’ off into the most contented sleep.

Shelby

Today is “E-Day.” It’s been two weeks since Kip and I went to the bank, and I haven’t opened the envelope. I wanted more
control
time. So, while Kip and I have been focusing on
us
the past two weeks, we did choose a day on the calendar that I would finally face whatever secrets this manila rectangle holds. I wish I had another week. My life has certainly been different, and I don’t want to give it up.

Two days after we retrieved the envelope, Kip put his foot down. He didn’t want me going back to the Johnsons’. I didn’t fight him because, quite frankly, I didn’t want to be there. I love Maggie and Missy, but things have been off-kilter ever since May left. Not that I really knew what it was like before—I had only been there a week when all this went down—but it feels like there’s an extra slice of awkward lingering around.

Alma agreed, of course, so I’ve been “staying” in the extra room at the ranch. I say that loosely, because once everyone is in bed, I’m in Kip’s. I haven’t felt this safe and secure since before my dad died. And I don’t mean just with Kip. The whole household has taken me in like I’m one of theirs. I feel like I have a family again. Maybe that’s part of the reason I don’t want to see what’s in that envelope. What’s the point? I have everything I need right now. I’m in a good place, physically and mentally. Why mess with that, right?

“You ready, baby?” Kip asks as he walks back into the room.

“Honestly?” I ask, then shake my head.

“C’mon, Red, I’m here with you. There might not even be anythin’ bad in there. I think you are overthinkin’ it. You’re psychin’ yourself out. It’s probably your family history and whatnot.” He tries to talk the same sense into me that he’s been saying all week.

“You know I disagree with you. My mother would never tell me about what’s in it. She was adamant about me memorizing everything and getting here.” I go to toss the envelope, but he grabs it from me.

“No more runnin’,” he sighs impatiently.

“Fine,” I say, but throw in an eye roll for good measure. I take in a deep breath and slide my hand under the flap, ripping the adhesive away. Kip rubs my back as I pull out the contents. There’s a letter on top, addressed to me, that says to open first. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen my mother’s writing. I quickly pull the letter out and open it, my hands shaking. I begin to read it out loud.

Dear Shelby,

If you are reading this letter, then I fear that I am gone. I can only hope you are reading this at an older stage in your life, rather than a younger one. I know what it was like to lose my mom at a young age, and I’d hate for you to have to go through that as well.

I know there are a million questions going on in your head right now as you wonder about the purpose of this letter. You know I’ve always been straight with you for the most part, so I’m going to get right to it.

First, I want to tell you what a joy you have been in my life. The center of it, really. I have cherished every moment with you. You are the most amazing human being. I’m lucky to have been your mother. I love you, Shelby.

In saying that, there are things you don’t know that I must in good conscience tell you. I do hope you are sitting, because I am about to drop a few bombshells on you. Your father, Dale, loved you unconditionally. It’s important for you to know that. It’s also important for you to know that he was not your biological father.

“What?!” I gasp.

“Band-Aid, baby. Just read it all at once, then we’ll go over it,” Kip coaxes me. I nod in agreement, though I’m shocked to the core.

Gregory Holland was your real father, but he died in the Gulf war before you were born.

“
Holy shit!
” Kip says, as if he’s the one in shock now. His jaw drops.

“What?” I ask him, concerned at this show of emotion.

“Uh, just keep readin’. I’ll tell you when you’re done.” He nudges my arm. My stomach tightens into knots like you wouldn’t believe.

Now that I’ve told you that, I’m guessing maybe you’ve taken a few moments to let it sink in. At least, I hope you did. I just want to say again, Shelby, that I love you. I have loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you. You and Nate are my pride and joy. Nothing I say in this letter will ever change that truth. I’m going to continue now.

Greg and I were never together. In fact, he was in love with someone else. It was a deep, beautiful love, Shelby. They were making plans to marry. The only thing standing in their way was her fiancé. Yes—fiancé. She was engaged to another man who started treating her poorly, who talked down to her and fooled around on her behind her back. So she was fixin’ to leave him. He was on tour himself, so she was waiting ‘til he got back to do it. Only thing is, she got pregnant when Greg was home on leave. By the time she started to show, he had died in a convoy explosion and Hank came home to find her in her new state.

Yes. I said Hank. Hank Johnson was that girl’s fiancé, and that girl was my sister, Bea. Needless to say, things didn’t go over too well. Hank sent her away to spare them both embarrassment. She was to give the baby up, because he wanted no part of it. Bea was lost without Greg, and she did whatever Hank said because she hadn’t the will to care.

Bea had that baby, and she did give her up. But unbeknownst to Hank, she was never really that far. Bea watched her grow up—mostly. I don’t know how much information she was able to get after Hank found out where the baby ended up. That happened the day of the party you always mention. You kept asking me why he was yelling at me and why he slapped me. He was yelling at me because I conspired with my sister to keep the truth from him. He slapped me because I told him, in so many words, what a complete asshole he is, amongst other things. We weren’t allowed back—ever.

Now, you might be wondering why I’ve always told you to go to Bea if something should happen, especially after what I just told you. Well, Hank Johnson is many things (oh, do I—and everyone else, for that matter—have a list!) but he’s not one to keep Bea from her daughter. Especially if I’m out of the picture and her daughter was all alone. Yes, Shelby. Bea is your biological mother. She hasn’t been the same since she lost Greg and then you. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive her if you are feeling any ill will toward her. My sister has suffered enough for her loss by becoming that son of a bitch’s wife. He made her life a living hell for taking up with another man. She’s stayed with him for her own reasons, which I never found justifiable.

I wish I was there to help you process all of this information. I hope you are with someone who cares deeply for you, though.

Shelby, I never—not one day—regretted the decision to take you and raise you as our own. Dad and I both cherished you and our little family, even more so when Nate finally came along. He’s such a good boy. And you are such a great big sister to him. He loves you to pieces.

So, there you have it! I’ve enclosed a folder in here with all the paperwork you need. Your birth Certificate and adoption papers. Pictures of your biological father and any records I was able to obtain. There are also bonds that I received for you from Bea as well as other family members. Bea, of course, sent the most.

I hope that you are okay. That Nate is with you, or near you, and happy. That you reconnect with Bea and your sisters (I almost said cousins). Most of all, Shelby, I wish you love and happiness. You have been one of my greatest achievements in life. I hope you can forgive me for not telling you sooner. It is the only secret I’ve kept from you.

Love eternal,

Mama

“Oh God!” I cry out in disbelief, then throw my hand over my mouth. Kip shushes me and pulls me into his arms, rocking me. “What do I do with all of this?” I pull away and look at him.

“Well, first things first. You are gonna give yourself some time with this information. Let it sink in. Don’t do anythin’ impulsive,” he says in a stern yet gentle manner. I nod, because honestly, I don’t know what else to do or say. I didn’t know what to expect when I opened the envelope, but I sure as shit did not expect this!

I grab the folder and open it up. There are a shitload of bonds in here.
Holy cow!
Then I see it—the picture of my real dad, Greg.

“Yep, that’s him all right.” Kip says, taking the photo from me. “You definitely get your hair from him.” He smiles over at me.

“You knew him?” I give him a curious look.

“Of course I did. I mean, I was a youngin’ when he died, but I remember him some.”

“Was he a family friend?” I take the picture back.

“No. He was my uncle,” he says casually, and grabs Greg’s death certificate.

“Oh,” I sigh. “
Wait! What?!
” I yelp. Those knots in my stomach twist harshly, and I can’t imagine it doesn’t show on my face.