Page 50 of Riding Free

KEELY

So quit.

As if it’s as simple as that. Just do it. What’s the big deal? I open my mouth to tell him that I can’t just quit. That I have a baby to take care of and a career to try and get back, but he doesn’t let me say those things.

Instead, he slides his fingers into the back of my hair, grips me there, and holds me still, his gaze searching mine before he leans forward slightly and touches his mouth to mine. I almost forget the entire conversation, but then he smiles against my lips.

“Let me take care of you, babe,” Brock murmurs.

My brain tells me to push him away and not allow this conversation to happen. I don’t want him to pay my way. I want to handle my own business and build it back up again here in Boulder City, but I don’t think I can do it on my own. I thought I could, but I really can’t.

I push him away slightly, my brain winning out. “I can’t,” I whisper.

I’m not sure what I expect, maybe for him to look annoyed or irritated, but he doesn’t. His lips curve up into a grin, and he chuckles. I think he’s going to tell me to do whatever I need to and handle my business, but he doesn’t.

“If you want to work, I’m good with it,” he murmurs. “But I’m paying for your licensing and whatever else you need for your massage shit. You don’t need to worry about that, not today, not ever.”

“Brock,” I exhale.

He shakes his head once. “No,” he snaps.

His fingers in my hair tighten.

He tugs my head back slightly, then, before I realize what’s happening, I’m flipped onto my back, and he’s hovering above me, still close, his fist still in my hair. I can’t deny that my heart begins to race, excitement sliding up and then down my spine, and my body breaks out in goose bumps.

I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I’m ready for it.

Bracing for it.

“It’s not fucking negotiable,” he grinds out. “I am paying for whatever it takes for you to get your licensing for this state. If you wanna sling frappés or whateverthefuck, then be my goddamn guest, but the money you make there isn't for your licensing or living expenses, and it sure as fuck isn't for Thea.”

I open my mouth, though I’m not sure what I want to say. I don’t know if I want to argue with him, agree to his announcement, or ask questions. But I don’t get the chance to do anything, because his fingers tighten again, tugging my head back even farther, and he shifts forward until his mouth touches mine.

I’m not really sure what I’m doing, or why I’m doing it, but I widen my legs to allow him closer to me. I’m sore and tired, completely satisfied, but I wouldn’t mind another round if he wanted to have another go.

“Baby,” he moans as his hips nestle between my legs.

I feel his length press against me, and even though he’s not hard, it still feels so damn good. He reaches down with one hand, curling his fingers around the back of my knee, spreading me wider.

“Tell me you won’t argue with me, that you’ll agree and accept my help with all that,” he growls. “I won’t take no for an answer. It’s my job to take care of you both, and I take it really fucking seriously.”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I look up at him, my neck arched as he holds me open and waiting for him. We stare at one another in silence for a moment. I don’t know what to say or how to say it.

I want to agree to everything he’s asked of me. I mean, what girl in my position thinks about turning down the man who fathered her child when he says he wants to take care of everything?

“Keely, you don’t have a choice. Don’t overthink it. You’ve been doing it on your own for a year. No more.”

My gaze shifts to the side, and I look over to the bassinet, where my innocent, sweet baby sleeps. She deserves everything. A mother and a father, together or not, but hopefully together for her mother’s sake. A good start at life, not a struggle. A mom who is happy and has a career she loves.

“It’s hard,” I confess. “I want to be able to do it all.”

He hums, brushing his lips across mine, but he doesn’t deepen the kiss. I feel his length harden against my center. I want him to shift and slide inside me, but again, he doesn’t. I will him to move, to kiss me, to do all the things he did not long ago. I want to come, I want to feel him, I just want… him.

“You can do it all, but you have to let me help you,” he rasps.

Part of me wants to say that I don’t have to do anything, I don’t need to do anything, but the other part of me wants to be taken care of. I’ve been taking care of myself for years. I walked away from my parents and didn’t come back until Thea.

I did that for her.