“I’ll get them, Uncle Madden.” Forest is going to have to watch Piper. Our girl is acting like nothing happened last night, carrying on like it’s a normal thing for her to witness these things.
“Thanks, sweetheart. Piper, come here. Uncle Mad’s phone is ringing.” I watch as she dances her way to me, spinning in circles and laughing at herself. A free spirit, that’s how I’d describe my youngest niece. Once she finally gets within reach, I lift her up into my arms. “Cammy, don’t go in the pool. I’m going to grab my phone.” I walk backwards, eyes on her while she pulls out every item in the deck box, and snatch my phone off the end table I left it on.
“Swim, swim!” When I see the display on my phone, a smile tugs on my lips as Piper tells me what she wants to do. “I know. A few more minutes, okay?” I respond as I answer the phone, “Well, if this isn’t a surprise phone call.”
“Hi, uh, is this a bad time?” Hendrix says on the other end of the line.
“Uncle Mad, they need to be blown up,” Cammy comes at me. I hold the phone between my chin and my shoulder as I set Piper back down on the pool deck. “No pool yet, Piper.”
“Nope, my nieces are hanging out with me today. I’ve got time to spare for you.” When in all actuality, I don’t, but I’m making time for Hendrix. The girls will keep me busy until all three of us are worn out. Cammy hands me the armbands that Piper uses at times when she gets tired of doing all the work and just wants to be a water bug, floating on her back.
“Are you sure? I can call back.” Hendrix sounds unsure, probably a first for her.
“I’m positive. Their sunscreen is drying. Once that happens, all bets are off,” I tell her as I sit down on one for the pool loungers. An umbrella in between the two. Cammy moves away from Piper, who’s looking for the dive rings, setting them in one pile, then going for something else.
“Alright, I never gave you the money back.” I lift my arm, still listening to Hendrix as Cammy settles in next to me. Worry settles in. She’s always been the independent to Piper’s dependent, but today, that doesn’t seem to be the case.
“I told you, I don’t want it. Keep your money or donate it,” I tell her yet again.
“Madden, I don’t think you understand I need to do this.”
“And I told you, I’m not sure how many times, to keep it.” Piper’s little butt is up in the air, stomach on the ledge of the deck box as she reaches for what I’m sure is more dive rings or sticks. “Piper, you good, baby girl?” I ask. An arm lifts in the air, thumb going up as the universal sign that she’s good.
“Fine, whatever. I’ll figure out a way to get it back to you,” Hendrix grumbles.
“Well, if you hadn’t run away last night, this wouldn’t be an issue.” I give her a taste of her own medicine, wondering how she’ll respond this time.
“Like I said, I’ll figure something out.”
“I’ll call you later, and we can discuss how you can pay me back,” I respond, knowing I’ve got about thirty more seconds until Piper is going to run for the pool.
“There’s nothing to discuss. Sexual favors will not be included,” Hendrix throws out.
“You’re lucky I’ve got two little girls with ears who have been through enough because I have not ever insinuated that. You’re a trip. Keep the money, Hendrix. Do whatever you gotta do. Life’s too short to argue over everything.” Then I do what I know Hendrix least expects: I hang up the phone. My energy has better use for the time being, and that’s to hang with my two favorite girls.
NINETEEN
Madden
After a dayof fun in the sun with Cammy and Piper, it was time for them to head home with Forest. I’m not going to lie; I was worried about the thought of the three of them going home where shit went down. Especially with how Cammy seemed to be glued to my side today. And when Forest got to my place, she did the same. The girls not leaving our sight meant there was no way we could talk, which I’m sure we’ll do tomorrow. I picked up my place. Cooper was lying on his dog bed, actually not humping it or tearing it apart with his teeth and aggressive head shake. Clearly, he’s making progress, so I left him to his snooze and did a little reconnaissance of my own. That was a couple of hours ago. I could have called Hendrix, letting her know the move I was about to make, but knowing my luck, she’d come up with the lamest excuse in the book, like she needs to wash her hair, or better yet, she would leave, and I’d be left sitting in my truck at the curb at her place, which is where my truck is now. I’m currently standing at her front door, hand up, about to knock, when I stop at hearing what sounds like a record player playing a rock ballad. Hendrix is singing along out of tune, and Jolene yips in what I’m assuming is happiness. One day soon, I won’t be standing on the other side of the door; I’ll get a front row seat if I can convince her to quit hating me, unless it’s the male population she hates. I’m beginning to think it’s me, though.
I’m about ready to say screw it, to leave Hendrix to her music, when the door flies open. “I knew you were a creeper, but this is bordering on stalking.” Her hair is a mess, a sheen of sweat coats her forehead, and she’s in something sexier than a bathing suit in my opinion. A white tank top that shows her midriff, a midriff that has another tattoo that climbs up beneath her top. Her hands are on her hips, and she’s wearing shorts that hug her lower half, and I know if she turns around, she’ll give me a fantastic view of her ass.
“As if you didn’t know addresses are public record. You want to explain to me this shit you had the nerve to say to me?” I ask, moving in closer, Coop right along with me. I almost left him at home but figured it’d be a good idea for us to show off his good behavior and maybe it’d be a bargaining chip with the woman who’s consuming my every fucking thought. Hendrix stays planted where she is. The back of my finger moves the hair out of her face. Her body reacts to my touch. I can see her taut nipples, pebbled from a fleeting pass. My hand moves down her neck until it cups her exposed ribcage. She still doesn’t flinch or move away. “I got another question for you, too, seeing as how a cat’s got your tongue.” Jolene walks up beside her owner. My hand automatically goes to her head, rubbing behind her ear until she feels our greeting is done.
“What’s that, stalker boy?” Hendrix finally uses her voice, taking a step back, not that she’s pushing me away. I watch her body language, making sure I’m not pushing her in a way this little troublemaker won’t like.
“Do you hate everyone as much as you hate me?” An unrecognizable sound leaves her. She’s once again silent, and I give her the time to gather her thoughts. The magnitude in the last few questions has Hendrix off balance, probably in a way she wasn’t prepared for. I push us further until I’m inside her place, closing the door behind us so we’re not wasting electricity or air conditioning the neighborhood. I take in her place, noticing she’s got a mustard-yellow velvet couch, jewel-toned chair, a coffee table and end table set that I’m pretty sure my grandparents owned at one point. The record player and credenza take up the bulk of the wall. A small television and stand sits in the corner. This gives me a huge inside look to Hendrix, though. The only oddity is there isn’t dick on her walls.
“I don’t hate all men, at least I don’t think I do. I mean, my dad I obviously don’t, and my friends’ husbands are like brothers, so yeah, it’s you,” she finally responds to my last question, but not to the first one.
“Well, I can die a happy fucking man that some other poor schmuck won’t be put through the wringer because he’s got a dick.” I pull away from her. This time, I can hear the whimper when my hands leave her body. Good to fucking know she’s just full of shit and I’m the one she likes pissing off. “Next question: you think I’m busting my balls inviting you to dinner, helping you out with Jolene, and standing at your door because I want you to pay me back in sexual favors? Fuck, woman, the last man you had must have messed with your head. I don’t want the damn money. Cooper acted like a little shit. Some of that was my fault. I felt bad for the dog that was practically abandoned, more than likely given zero attention. You weren’t letting me get a word in edgewise to apologize. I took matters into my own hands. Clearly, that’s not what you want or need.” I’m pissed as hell. It’s been one hell of a week, and coming over here isn’t helping matters.
“Then what do you call finger-fucking me in a restaurant? Jesus, anyone could have seen that. It’s not you who would be labeled a hussy. That’d be me. Men can get their rocks off, and nothing will be said,” Hendrix is on a tangent. I let her get it all out, waiting until she’s out of steam, standing since she didn’t offer me a place to sit.
“Are you done?” I ask. I’m not an idiot. I’ve been around enough women to know that’s not the three words you say strung together in a heated moment. “Good, it’s my turn. I would have never put you in a place where anyone could walk in and see what I was doing to you. Not ever. I get that you don’t know me all that well, but if you’d pull the blinders away from your eyes, you’d see that I’m trying to get to know you. It’s two steps forward and four steps back with you. And another damn thing. You have a mouth, Hendrix. You know how to use it to tell me no, too.” Probably not in the ways I’ve imagined it, her mouth wrapped around my cock, her gagging as I press her all the way down until she takes my whole length, and while doing that, her hand would be between her legs, working herself, but I wouldn’t let her get off that way. I’d pull them away, pull my cock out of her mouth, and slam deep inside her in one thrust.
Hendrix doesn’t say a word. Her mouth opens, then closes. I watch as she repeats the process before finally keeping it closed. “Fuck this.” My feet walk me towards her, hand going to the place it was moments ago, holding her along her side, sweeping over the ink she has placed there. Another tattoo. This woman is full of surprises, it seems, and she gets the fucking memo. Her head tips back right as mine tips down. This is going to be sweet as hell.