Found (Captive Heart #2) (10 page)

C
har lets
out one of the loudest moans I’ve ever heard when I plunge my tongue into her.

She tastes so fucking good. Musky and sweet, and I can feel her hips writhing beneath me as I fuck her with my mouth. It’s better than any drug I’ve ever done.

Char is my addiction now.

“Oh my God, Tucker, I’m so close.”

I blow a breath across her swollen nub. “Come for me, baby. It’s going to be the first of many tonight.”

I push two fingers inside of her, and her pussy clamps me tight as she arches her back. She starts to come in loud groans, her hands coming up to bury themselves in her hair. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“Best. Birthday. Ever.” Char grabs my face as I move up her body, my knees parting her thighs on the plush carpet.

“It’s not over yet.”

And then, I slide all the way into her. My balls slap against her ass as we both shiver from the connection.

“I love you.” She pulls my face down and kisses me, moaning when she tastes me on her tongue. It’s erotic and I want more. I shove my tongue farther back into her throat, overwhelming her.

We’re both gasping when I finally detach my lips from hers.

“Take me, Tucker.” Char’s eyes are needy and dilated with her impending orgasm.

I remove her hands from my cheeks and pin them above her head, asserting my power over her and making her completely at my will. Her eyes melt at the show of dominance, and it only fuels my desire more.

“Keep your eyes on me. Look at me while I make you come. And when you do, I want you screaming my name.”

Char nods and I grip her wrists harder where I hold them. And then I start to move. My strokes are hard and long, punishing to both of us as I drive us toward the steep cliff of release. Animalistic sounds are coming out of me or Char, I’m not even sure. Her pussy is gripping me hard, wet sucking noises fill the air. I’ve only been thrusting into her for a few seconds, or maybe it’s hours. I’m not sure, time stands still.

“Tucker. Tucker. Tucker …”

Char explodes on a careening wail, her back arching and her ass driving into me as she comes hard. I explode with her, her orgasm intensifying my release as I spill my come inside of her.

I collapse into her neck, releasing her hands as I do.

“I’m never getting out.” I nuzzle in the soft crook of her skin as she laughs and rubs her hands up my back.

I’ve got to be crushing her, so I roll us until I have Char on top of me and the plush white rug beneath me.

I kiss her on the nose. “So, how was your birthday?”

She pretends to muse before I tickle her sides. “Spectacular.”

“
T
ucker
, you really didn’t have to do this.”

Char protests as I pull her chair out at the fancy steakhouse I decided to take her to.

I bend to whisper in her ear as I sweep her chestnut hair over her shoulder. “While I’m all for giving you multiple orgasms as your birthday present, I want to at least do something outwardly special.”

I straighten and see the blush creep through her cheeks. My shy girl. Damn does that bashful side of her still do things to the anatomy below my belt.

“Plus, maybe this isn’t about you. Maybe I’m raking in the dough and just wanted a juicy piece of meat.” I wink at her as I pull my chair in across the table.

Truth was, I was making decent money now. And so what if I wanted to spend some of it on my wife after years of never being able to take her out to eat. I’d gotten the recommendation from a work buddy and decided to parade my girl out in public. I knew it secretly was turning both of us on. I’d pay for the pricey entrees if I got to partake in this foreplay.

“You’re terrible.” She sticks her nose up at me in fake-disapproval as she opens her menu.

I just stare at the eyeful of her tits I’m getting. Char has on a snug black dress with a wide scoop of a neckline. The tops of her breasts peaked out and kept taunting me.

“I can see you checking me out. Stop it! Just for your misbehavior, I’m ordering the most expensive thing on the menu.”

I laugh as the waiter comes over. He asks for our drink orders, a water for me and a glass of red wine for Charlotte, after she checks with me to see if that’s okay. Of course it is. I never want to hinder her. Just because her husband has an addictive personality doesn’t mean she has to limit her choices.

“What are you going to get?” She smiles at me and the color of her lipstick, a dark purple, is even turning me on. I’m not sure if we’re going to make it all the way through dinner without me dragging her to the bathroom and bending her over the sink.

“I think I’m going surf and turf. Nothing says ‘I’ve got money’ more than ordering a filet and a lobster.”

Char shakes her head, but grins at my stupid comment. “Why did you even bring us here?”

“I want you to have nice things. You deserve nice things.” I shrug, suddenly getting self-conscious.

Her warm hand reaches across and grasps mine. “All I want is you. But this is nice, too. Thank you.”

We stare at each other until the waiter comes back to take our meal orders. Once he clears the menus, Char asks about work.

“How is the job you’re on now? Do you like it?” She’s still holding my hand and I love it.

“Yeah, it’s this big housing development in the suburbs, going to be about forty McMansions when we’re done. Marble counters, sunken living room, his and hers bathrooms, in-ground pools. The works.”

Char looks dreamily at me. “Someday we’ll have that, right?”

It’s the first time I’ve heard her talk like this. It doesn’t make me anxious, just catches me off guard. “Is that what you want?”

She looks at her our interconnected hands. “Well, yeah, someday in the future. The house in the suburbs, the wide open spaces. The lawn with the swing set. Lots of kids and dogs to fill it.”

My heart melts at her description of our life together. “Well then, I’ll build it for you.”

I lean across the table and take her face in my hands before planting a soft kiss on her luscious mouth. I hope some of that purple rubs off on me so she has to stare at it for the rest of the night, knowing what else my lips can smudge.

Someone above my head clears their throat. “I was coming over to say hello, but now I realize I should have checked to see if this mongrel was behaving himself.”

I pull away from Char and turn my head to grin at my parole officer, Jane. “Well no shit. They let two criminals in here?”

She socks me in the arm, and I notice her hair is pulled back nicely away from her weathered face. Which has makeup on it. “I’m not a criminal, buddy. I just keep them in line.”

“On a government salary. You sure you can afford this place, Joval?” I look around like I’m pretending to see if someone is going to throw her out.

She laughs and gives me a smack to my head. Since I’ve gotten out, Jane has been one of my biggest advocates. Riding me when I got lazy, which was rarely, and picking me up when I was down. She was a drill sergeant of the convicted, and she was damn good at her job.

Char watches us with hesitant amusement, and I realize I’ve never really talked about Jane. I’ve mentioned my parole meetings, but Jane knows way more about Charlotte than Charlotte knows about Jane.

“Jane, this is my wife Charlotte. Charlotte, this is my parole officer Jane.”

The two shake hands and Charlotte’s smile grows brighter. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

Jane nods at Char, her indigo dress looking so out of place on a woman like her. “And it’s nice to meet you. I’m not sure what woman would put up with him, but you’re a saint, woman.”

That makes Char give a loud belly laugh. “Oh, I like her better than you already. How come you haven’t talked about her more, Tucker? You’re in trouble now, mister.”

“Oh you haven’t mentioned me much, eh? It’s probably cause I scare the living daylights out of him.”

“Something like that,” I grumble.

“So, who are you enjoying your dinner with Jane?”

Jane looks over her shoulder. “Oh, my husband and I just finished up our dinner. It was great, if you got the surf and turf you’re in for a treat. He’s getting the car; this old broad can’t walk very well anymore.”

I grin up at her. “How did you know that’s what I ordered? And jeez Jane, that’s such a front. You’d kick anyone’s ass if they messed with you.”

She smiles deviously. “I have my ways. All right, you kids, I’m going to go. Have a good dinner. Make this guy drop some big bucks on you.”

She’s off with a wave and Charlotte is looking after her like she’s found the new messiah.

“Now I know why you didn’t tell me about your parole officer. She’s a riot.”

“Yeah, because you’ll want to leave me for her.”

The waiter sets our steaks down in front of us and Char picks up the huge knife on the plate. “Who says I still won’t?”

And then she tucks into her porterhouse like a champ. I love this woman.

“
S
o let
’s talk about some of that anxiety.” Dr. Taylor motions to Tucker, who is sullen.

He always is when we come to therapy. I get that he thinks someone is always admonishing or correcting him in here, but this is the hard work. Therapy hurts and it’s messy, but it also works. It helped me, and as much as he hates to admit it, it’s been helping us. This safe space where we leave our darkest shit when we walk out the door, it’s good for us. Good to do it on a monthly basis, which is why we find ourselves here today.

“I get anxious in crowds. When there are a lot of people. What else do I need to say?”

I reach for his hand and lace his fingers through mine. “I want to understand more of the ‘why?’ Why do you get anxious? Do you feel overloaded, do you think they’re judging you?”

Dr. Taylor nods. “Those are good questions, Charlotte.”

Tucker looks at me, trying hard to dig deep. “It’s all of the above. In prison, it’s easy to predict the social climate. You know who bands together with who, where you stand in the ranks. You know what places not to go at certain times, you know when someone is giving you the ‘fuck off’ vibe. There are no pleasantries or small talk, and I got used to that. Now that I have to do it out here, it makes my skin crawl. I don’t care. All of these people with all of these thoughts and agendas, God, I just hate it.”

“And the judging part?” Dr. Taylor prompts him as I listen quietly.

“Everyone in Lancaster knows who we are. Have read the articles. Probably watched whatever news clips they showed on the trial. I feel like whenever we’re out in public, everyone is looking at me, thinking, ‘Why is that smart, pretty woman still with that dirty convict?’ It makes me want to punch myself. Or throttle someone. But the anxiety, it also takes over. It’s like my veins are shaking inside of my skin. Like I can’t fully catch my breath. My vision gets those little spots and it feels like I’m looking through a keyhole. Everything is too bright and loud.”

Dr. Taylor looks to me, almost as if she can see through my soul. I’ve had a feeling she’s known about my anxiety attacks for weeks, without me even telling her. She’s that good, and I thank her silently for finding us. For helping us.

I turn to Tucker. “I know how you feel.”

“You couldn’t possibly, Char.”

“No, actually, I do. Because I suffered from anxiety attacks. I haven’t told you because I don’t want you to think the wrong way about them.”

I pause, knowing he will definitely get upset at what I’m about to tell him.

“After the police came for you, after it all … I started to get those same attacks. I couldn’t catch my breath; it felt like everything in the world was caving in on me. I would have to sit in my car, go to the bathroom, or stay home from things. But I got over it. I know it feels like there will be no end in sight, that there will be nothing that fixes it, but Dr. Taylor can help. Right?” I turn to her.

“Of course, there are exercises that help with anxiety. And there are also treatment plans, although that is a drastic measure. You haven’t suffered from these your whole life. In my professional opinion, it’s just a side-effect of being released, of reacquainting yourself with the world outside of prison. We can work on this.”

Tucker drops my hand, and I can tell in his expression how annoyed he is. “Wait a minute … you’re telling me that I caused you to have anxiety attacks?”

“Well, no, babe. You’re not hearing me correctly—”

He shakes his head, cutting me off. “No. You didn’t have them before. But after I kidnapped you, and you got attacked by a rabid animal … that’s when you started having anxiety attacks. Right?”

It hurts, but I can’t lie to him. “Yes. But I’m not mad about it, baby. I worked through it, and I came out stronger.”

“So there is just another thing that I did to you. To hurt you.” He looks crushed and all I want to do is brush his curls away from his forehead and kiss him there.

But he’s going to be stubborn. Undo all the good we’ve done. So now it’s time for tough love.

“Yeah, it sucks. And it hurts. But I’m here, and I’m strong. We can’t take back what happened in the past, so stop sulking about it. I love you, and I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, you’re not going to drive me away. So let’s focus on helping you get better. What can we do, Dr. Taylor?”

I reach for Tucker’s hand and lace my fingers through his again, and to my surprise he squeezes mine tight. Therapy is working. If this were two months ago, he would have dropped my hand and either gone off like a bomb, or gone silent for the rest of the session.

“Charlotte, you can help Tucker work on his breathing exercises and focus strategies. I’m sure you remember how to do those. But let’s also talk about something I’ve been wondering about. Tucker, you say that lots of people around isn’t something you like. That crowds overwhelm you and that you like to work solitarily in your construction job rather than with other people most of the time. I’ve been wondering, have you two had a discussion about where you’ll live?”

I look at her, confused. “About where we’ll live? We already have a home. Our condo.”

She puts her notepad down. “Well, yes. That’s the place you live now. But that is your home, Charlotte. The place you bought to reflect you. Tucker, do you feel at home at the condo?”

I glance over at my husband, who has a grimace on his face. And that’s all I need to see to know how stupid I’ve been. “I didn’t even realize you didn’t like it there. I’m sorry …”

He stops me. “No, don’t be. I should have said something. It’s just, I know how much you love it. I know that you like how close we are to downtown, that you can walk to your coffee shop and your regular bar. I know you love the festivals. I know you love the garden you planted and the hardwood floors and the second bedroom with all of the sunlight.”

My heart falls as his mocha-colored eyes cast downward. “But you don’t like it?”

“It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s beautiful, you’ve created a great home. It’s just … to me, it doesn’t feel like home. It’s too loud at night, and there is too much light. I hate that when I walk out the door, there are at least fifteen to twenty people on the street at all times. I don’t like neighbors on either sides of our wall, that I can hear them running up and down the stairs. It’s just … not my house.”

The pit in my stomach is a mile wide. “I’m sorry, Tuck. I didn’t realize. I just thought it wouldn’t matter because we were living together. But I can see now … that was stupid of me.”

“Stop, babe. I didn’t want to bring it up, because I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“That’s why I didn’t want to bring up the anxiety attacks either. Because I didn’t want to hurt you. But we have to stop thinking of each other’s feelings and be honest. I never want you to feel uncomfortable. So what would be your ideal living situation?”

Dr. Taylor speaks up quietly. “This is a great breakthrough, guys …”

Tucker turns to me again after her encouragement. “I’ve thought about this. I would never ask you to leave your job; I know you love it too much. And I don’t dislike Lancaster, I just … downtown is too much. Maybe if we moved somewhere out in the suburbs. I’ve seen some fixer-uppers … I could work on them, make you your dream house.”

He’s thinking about our conversation at dinner the other night. My heart melts, because I can tell he’s really put thought into this. “That sounds like something I’d love to talk more about. Something I could definitely get behind.”

I think Dr. Taylor seriously has tears in her eyes when she clears her throat. “You two have come so far. Our time is up for today, but … I’m so proud of what you’ve accomplished. Until next time …”