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Raid (Unfinished Hero #3) Page 44
Author: Kristen Ashley

That absolutely made me feel better so I smiled.

Raiden must have seen it in the dark because he leaned into me, taking me to my back and again loomed over me.

“So, you gonna stop that shit with your stomach?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I answered.

“All-access?” he pushed.

“Yes, sweetheart,” I promised.

“How about you give that to me now,” he suggested and a pulse pounded between my legs.

“Okay,” I breathed.

“Spread for me, Hanna.”

I opened my legs at the same time I had a minor preliminary orgasm.

Raiden put a hand flat between my br**sts, slid it down, glided it over my belly then it dipped between my legs.

My h*ps lifted and I bit my lip.

He shifted and ordered gruffly, “Wrap your hand around my cock, honey. Jack me off while I play with your pu**y.”

Readily, I did what I was told.

I came first.

Five minutes later, Raiden anointed my belly.

And I got to watch.

After cleaning him off me, I fell asleep with Raiden spooning me, big hand splayed at my stomach.

And I fell asleep thinking this was good news for my sundae addiction, I liked my little pouch and I was going to keep it.

* * * * *

That Friday afternoon…

Grams was sitting on her back porch, feet up, eyes closed. I’d dragged her chair to the end of the porch so she was bathed in sun.

Raiden was at the far end of the backyard with the push mower, its engine droning.

I had a mess of afghans all over Grams’ porch furniture and my basket of ribbons with me. I was folding, tying and tagging them.

Spot was lying on the floor inside the backdoor, his enigmatic kitty face studying my movements. I didn’t know if he wanted me to let him out so I would cease my work and give him cuddles or so he could do his best to draw my blood.

Grams’s house was in the residential area of town, two blocks down from the end of the businesses, one block in. As we were somewhat removed from the big city, not a suburb but not far away, thus we had wildlife, but the scary stuff didn’t stray into town, making clawless Spot a ready-meal should we let him out. Still, we didn’t let him out, just in case.

Therefore, being confined indoors was one of many things that didn’t make Spot happy, and I suspected he was studying me and plotting ways to draw my blood.

“See my precious girl’s decided to play with fire,” Grams told the backs of her eyelids.

I pulled a bow tight on an afghan and looked at her.

Then I looked at Raiden in jeans, a now sweaty tee and running shoes, mowing my grandmother’s lawn.

I looked back at Grams.

“Yeah,” I answered softly.

“Mm-hmm,” she mumbled ambiguously.

“It’s not mine to share, what he’s shared with me, Grams, but you were right. He’s dangerous,” I told her.

“Know that, chère,” she replied.

“He’s also worth the risk,” I finished.

Her eyes opened and came to me.

“Talk in town and lots of it. Shocked you and that boy haven’t received your invitations to be grand marshals, sittin’ on a float in the parade the town intends to plan to celebrate your togetherness, what with them bein’ beside themselves with joy their local hero’s courtin’ the town’s sweetest girl.”

I knew she was worried. I didn’t want her to think I was going in with anything but my eyes wide open, but I couldn’t stop the goofy smile that I knew hit my lips.

Grams wasn’t done

“Those in the know about that fire within, that would be his Momma and his baby sister, they got all kinds of faith in you. Especially with Rachelle practically havin’ the menu planned for your wedding and Ruthie Miller grumbling about the bike shop bein’ closed, seein’ as she wanted to buy her boy a bike so he could ride alongside his girl.”

The news of Mrs. Miller and Rachelle approving was so welcome I had to bite my lip so I didn’t break my face smiling huge.

I felt Grams eyes sharpen on me and my smile faded.

“Don’t get ideas. That boy’s behind won’t mount a bike, precious. He might blow one up in a military exercise, but he’s not gonna ride alongside you while you mosey into town and pick up salad fixin’s for dinner.”

This was true. And it was funny.

I beat back the laughter and agreed, “I know, Grams.”

Her voice got sharp when she warned, “Do not take this lightly, child. You knew the danger, you still made a decision, took on this job and now you got people countin’ on you. His Momma, his sister, me, the town and, most importantly, him.”

My amusement fled. I held her eyes and nodded.

“Proud of you,” she said and she sounded it.

My heart warmed, but the smile I gave her was shaky. “Thanks, Grams.”

“I’m proud, but that don’t mean I’m not worried. Fire’s gonna get hot, chère. You made your choice. You do what you gotta do to take the heat.”

I nodded.

“Hope I live to see it,” she continued and my heart lurched.

“Grams—”

“Want one thing before I die: to know you’ll go on after me and do it safe and happy. That boy’s got the capacity to give you both, he doesn’t destroy you in the process. I hope I live to see him battle that blaze so he gives my girl safe and happy.”

“You’re going to make me cry,” I warned.

“Boudreaux do not cry, chère. You know that. Place to cry, on the back porch in the sun is not it.”

I pulled in a deep breath through my nose and again nodded.

“There’ll be good times, Hanna. Fill yourself up with them, hold onto them tight, ‘cause when the bad times come, you’ll need them,” she advised.

“Now you’re scaring the pants off me,” I told her.

“Boudreaux don’t show fear. There’s a place to feel fear and on the back porch in the sun is not it.”

I avoided her eyes by setting the afghan I’d finished aside and getting another one.

“Listen to your Grams, precious,” she ordered.

“I’m listening,” I told her, shaking out a blanket in preparation for folding it.

“You keep your chin up, you control tears and fear, you’ll be all right,” she told me.

“Okay,” I replied.

“Proud of you, chère,” she whispered.

I looked at her and smiled. “Love you, Grams.”

“I know, child. What do you think’s keepin’ me on this earth? Not easy to let go that kind of love. That kind of love’s got the power to hold you tethered to a world you should have left a long time ago.”

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Kristen Ashley's Novels
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