Unfinished Hero 04 Deacon (42 page)

I met his dad, Lou, his brother-in-law, Chet,
his four-year-old nephew, Chandler, two-year-old niece, Pearl, and
when she let Deacon go, I met his sister, Rebecca.

We had coffee in the kitchen.

Through this, Deacon disappeared into the
living room, first with his parents. Then with his sister and
brother-in-law.

They seemed calmer after that was over,
settling into relieved, and reaching toward happy.

I wasn’t surprised at this. Deacon could do
anything.

It wasn’t until much later, after dinner that
started stilted then, mostly because I was part-lunatic, ended up
with people laughing, it happened.

I was at the sink in the kitchen with Rosalie
doing dinner dishes, Rebecca moving around the room, putting away
the plates I was drying.

“I don’t know what you did, but I’m glad you
did it,” she told her hands in the water in a voice so quiet, I
barely caught it.

But I caught it.

“I just loved him,” I replied, not as quietly
since I wanted her to hear me.

She looked to me and I knew it was the wrong
thing to say.

“I loved him too.”

“Mom,” Rebecca got close and joined in our
quiet-speak. “You know what she means.”

Rosalie shook her head. “I mean no offense,
Cassie—”

“None taken,” I cut her off. “But you need to
know, the difference is, he took himself from you so your love
couldn’t get in. He needed to be where he was for reasons I know
you understand, no matter how painful they may be. But for whatever
reason, he kept coming back to me. He did it but he didn’t let me
in. Not for years. I did the best I could do with what he gave me,
and when he opened the door, I went for it. He took away your shot
to help him because that was what he needed. We just all lucked out
that I was there when he was ready.”

“We did,” she replied. “We all lucked
out.”

I nodded.

“She was weak,” she whispered.

She meant Jeannie.

“I’m not,” I replied firmly. “I’m a tough
broad.”

She blinked. Then her face cracked. Then she
burst out laughing.

Rebecca moved in to bump me with her
shoulder. When I looked at her, she winked.

That felt good.

Deacon had an awesome family.

Again, I wasn’t surprised.

Rebecca took the plate I was drying, and with
Deacon’s mom and sister, we finished the dishes.

* * * * *

Late that spring, I stood at the end of the
side porch, looking into the new clearing, watching what was
happening there, close to the river.

Deacon, Manuel, and Deacon’s (very handsome)
friend Raid were working on the gazebo.

He’d chosen the octagon.

It was going to be beautiful.

Esteban and Gerardo were helping. Gerardo
even had a little man’s tool belt on his hips. Of course, it was
filled with plastic tools, but it worked for him. Silvia was
hanging around, handing men nails, helping with boards, mostly to
be near Deacon. Though, I was beginning to wonder if it was mostly
to be near Raid.

She needed a boyfriend.

But only in a few years.

Like, ten of them.

Down the way, I could hear, but wasn’t
looking at Raid’s woman Hanna playing what sounded like ring around
the rosy with Margarita and Araceli, Bossy dancing around them,
barking happily.

And behind me, I heard Milagros come up.

I didn’t look at her, even as she got so
close our shoulders brushed.

Needless to say, Deacon fixed things with the
Cabreras.

It took him a while with Milagros.

But he did it.

He was also taking downtime, hanging with me,
helping with the cabins. Since there wasn’t a great deal to do,
this meant we went to the slopes a lot when there was snow. And
Deacon took to snowboarding like Deacon, effortlessly, explaining
this by saying, “My feet were nearly surgically attached to a
skateboard when I was a kid, woman.”

Whatever. So he could do anything. And
snowboarding with Deacon worked for me.

Anything with Deacon worked for me.

The rest of the time, we dinked around a
lot.

Now that the ground was not frozen, he was
back to work.

He’d go
back to work
when I had my
gazebo and laundry building. In helping me with the cabins, it
became clear that there wasn’t enough for him to do and he’d told
me he needed to be busy. So he was going to find a job.

He didn’t know what he wanted to do yet, just
that he was going to go back on the grid, officially.

I worried about this. Uncle Sam, I figured,
might have a problem with someone dropping out for ten years plus,
then showing back up again.

“It becomes a problem, Cassidy, we deal,”
Deacon said when I shared these fears with him. “But, woman, shit
happens in life and people drop out all the time. I was a homeless
man, lost and wandering. You don’t make a homeless man pay
taxes.”

This was true, even though Deacon was a
homeless millionaire.

But he was right. If it became a problem,
we’d deal. Deacon was good with dealing, after he survived the
ultimate and came out the other side. It took him some time, but he
did it.

So there was no use worrying about it
now.

And bottom line, he was back. Not in the
shadows. He was living, free and clean.

With me.

“I like his friends,” Milagros noted, taking
my mind from my thoughts.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “They’re likeable.”

And they were. Extremely. More so because
Raid looked at Hanna a lot like Deacon looked at me.

Like she was his reason for breathing.

That said it all about Raid Miller.

As for Hanna, she was just lovely. And
sweet.

“Friends say a lot about a man.”

Milagros wasn’t wrong about that, and Hanna
and Raid said everything.

“Manuel no longer worries.”

I closed my eyes as that swept through
me.

I opened them again, saying, “I’m glad.”

“I am too, Cassidy.” Her voice was heavy with
meaning. “Very glad.”

I drew in a breath, let it go, turned to my
friend, and smiled.

She smiled back at me.

Then she said, “Let’s get those workers a
drink.”

“You’re on,” I replied.

Her eyes twinkled.

Then we walked into the kitchen to get the
workers a drink.

* * * * *

I was barely containing my excitement when
the knock came at the door.

“Get that, will you, honey?” I asked the
sandwiches I was making at the counter.

“I do, you gonna stop bein’ so fuckin’
jumpy?” Deacon asked back, and I knew he was moving from the fridge
to the door.

Deacon asking this wasn’t because he could
read me. This was me being obvious.

“Let’s just say, no surprise parties for
you,” I stated.

“What’d you do?”

His tone made me look to him standing in the
kitchen door.

Standing. Not walking to open the front
door.

“Deacon, you need to—”

“What’d you do?” he repeated.

To get him to get a move on, I answered,
“Happy birthday.”

“Woman, it’s April.”

“So?” I asked but didn’t wait for his answer.
“You said you didn’t want presents on your birthday. Therefore,
you’re getting one
not
on your birthday.”

He shook his head, staring at me, lips
twitching.

I was about to come out of my skin.

“Deacon!” I snapped then bossed, “Go get the
door.”

He kept shaking his head, turned, and
sauntered through the foyer.

I wanted to go to the kitchen door and watch.
I
really
did.

I didn’t. I knew if I did I might explode
with the happy excitement gushing inside me.

I heard the words, “Special delivery for
Deacon Gates,” and Deacon replying, “That’s me.” Then, “Sign here,”
and I had to shift from foot to foot to stop from running into the
foyer.

I heard the door close but I felt it before
it did.

I felt it get stronger as he returned to
me.

I heard Bossy bark.

I looked to the door to see my man standing
there with his new German Shepherd puppy cradled to his chest,
licking his throat.

Deacon’s eyes were on me but his features
were scored raw with the love he had for me.

I felt my eyes sting but had it in me to say,
“I did Boss Lady, your turn to train him.”

“I love you,” he whispered

“I know,” I whispered back.

Bossy barked.

I went back to making sandwiches mostly so
Deacon could eat his while I got to play with the new puppy.

We named him Priest.

* * * * *

I turned my head and looked over my
shoulder.

I was up on my knees, facing the headboard I
was tied to. Just my wrists. My legs were free.

This allowed me to spread them wide and rock
my sex against Deacon’s mouth as he fed from me.

When I looked over my shoulder, though, I saw
him on his back, knees cocked, feet in the bed, the hand he didn’t
have clamped to my hip jacking his big cock.

“
Baby,
” I breathed, ground into his
face, arched my back, and came hard.

I lost his mouth but didn’t mind since I was
still coming.

“Tip,” he growled into my ear.

I tipped my hips.

He rammed his cock deep.

I cried out with sheer ecstasy.

He pounded deep, one hand going to my breast,
fingers tugging my nipple, other hand going to my sex, finger to my
clit, face in my neck.

“Again,” he demanded.

“Yes,” I panted.

He fucked me.

I took it. I loved it. I came for him
again.

With it still burning deep, I felt my wrists
released as he pulled out without joining me in a climax.

“My turn,” he growled into my ear.

Oh yes.

Yes.

Definitely.

I moved. Deacon moved. He grasped on to the
headboard.

We’d learned he didn’t need restraints. He’d
stay still for me. Sometimes it was a battle, but each time Deacon
succeeded.

That said, on occasion, I used them. Because
I wanted to. Because he let me. Because he wanted to. Because we
both got off on it.

Mostly, though, I let him bind me.

We did vanilla all the time. It was
magnificent.

But we also played.

Frequently.

I moved behind but slightly beside him,
pressing into him, one hand reaching forward to wrap around his
swollen cock, the other hand going to the plug I’d given him,
blowing him as I did it, before we started.

I jacked him and fucked him but I didn’t need
to do either. Deacon kept control by fucking my hand and thus
mostly fucking himself.

“Yeah, baby,” he kept growling.

He loved me working him.

I loved that.

When he’d given me my orgasm, my excitement
never left knowing what was to come. But at hearing his growl, my
clit started pulsing.

The headboard started slamming into the
wall.

And more pulsing.

“Hold on, honey,” I whispered into his ear
then licked his neck.

“Twist and fuck, Cassie,” he ordered.

I knew what that meant. The next level, which
was the level before I gave it all to him at the same time he gave
it all to me.

Right then, though, I gave him what he
needed.

“
Fuck yeah,
” he groaned, his head
dropping forward, maybe because he couldn’t hold it up, probably
because he liked to watch me jack his cock.

I would know it was the latter when he kept
groaning as he said, “Love what you do to me.”

“Love it too, baby.”

“More. Harder. Jack me harder, Cassie.”

I tightened my fist on his cock and jacked
him harder.

“Drive that fucker deep,” he demanded.

My pussy throbbing at his demand, twisting, I
took his ass deep.

That was when I got his grunts.

I loved those most of all.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned through the
grunts. “Fuck me and jack me.”

“Long as you want, honey,” I whispered.
Breathing hard against his neck, I latched on, suckled his flesh,
and gave him more.

And I gave it to him as long as he wanted,
Deacon fucking my fist and taking his plug deep.

Finally, he rumbled low, “Fill me.”

I knew what that meant, wanted what that
meant, and shoved in the plug.

“Here,” he growled.

I moved but not quickly enough. He moved me.
Lifting me, hands at my ass, back to the headboard, he slammed
deep, his mouth on mine.

I wrapped my legs around his hips and sucked
hard at his tongue.

I came almost instantly.

It took Deacon a couple of minutes to follow
me.

When we were coming down, he kept one hand at
my ass, the other arm he lifted to the middle of my back as he
kissed me slow and started fucking me sweet.

He kept taking me gently when he broke the
kiss, glided his lips to my neck, and asked there, “You good?”

“Oh yeah,” I breathed. “You?”

He slid in, stayed in, and answered, “Fuck
yeah.”

I tipped my head, smiled into his shoulder,
and trailed my hands along the warm skin of his back.

“Love you, my Cassie.”

Another smile.

“Love you too, my Deacon.”

His hand squeezed the cheek of my ass as his
arm did the same at my back.

He lifted his head and I righted mine to
catch his eyes.

There was a glint in them and I knew he was
about to commence teasing.

“You done with my ass?” he asked.

“For now,” I answered.

The grooves deepened around his mouth.

“My dick?”

My eyes rolled up and went side to side,
searching the ceiling.

He pressed his hips into mine.

I looked back at him. “Maybe.”

“She wants more,” he muttered.

“Are you tired, old man?” I asked.