Murphy (Kennedy Ink.) by Jenny Wood

Author:Jenny Wood [Wood, Jenny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-21T18:30:00+00:00

Cruz

“Did you have fun tonight?” I ask Mateo as we drove back home. There had been several people still hanging out at the guys’ house, but it was getting later, and I wanted to check in with Mama before I went to bed.

“Yeah, it was good.” He says, staring out the passenger window. I had spent the majority of the time watching Murphy. It’d taken him a while to loosen up, but when he did…. Fuck, he was somethin’ else. His laugh was warm and somewhat quiet, though he seemed surprised every time someone said or done something to emit the sound. He smiled and gave his whole attention to whomever he was talking to, and he contributed to conversations and made people laugh as well. I felt like a weirdo, watching him as he mingled throughout the night but I’d figured something out for myself, and that was that I wanted him…. I wanted another night like the one we’d had before.

He looked cute in his fancy-ass sweater and blue jeans. He looked like a school teacher or something equally as respectable. His hair was combed perfectly in place, and that damn dimple that shown in just one cheek was enough to drive me crazy.

It also didn’t help that I remembered the way he submitted to me when I ran my hands over his naked back or the way he let me control his kiss and his body. He accepted everything I gave him and begged for more. I wanted to feel him writhe under me while his ass squeezed my cock as I fucked him over and over again.

“Why do you ask Mamá, about mi padre?” Mateo’s voice startled me back into the present. I couldn’t believe I’d let my thoughts roam that far while he was sitting right next to me. I needed to work on that. His question though caught me off guard.

“What do you mean?” I asked as we pulled into my garage. I shut down the truck and looked over at him, pushing the button to the garage door opener, and he seemed to wait until it was shut to answer.

“You always ask about him. Are you waiting for him to die? Will you be happy when he dies?” He asks, almost defiantly.

“What the fuck, hermano. Why would you ask me that?” I ask him, dumbfounded by the fact that he’d think that.

“You hate him.” He spits angrily. I hadwondered why he was so angry before we’d left, I guess now we were getting to the root of it.

“I don’t hate him,” I say softly, trying not to lie. I didn’t hate him, per se, but I didn’t like him either. I had ill feelings toward him, sure, but I didn’t wish death on anyone. That was a little harsh. “And I wouldn’t wish him dead, mano. He’s mamá husband and your father. I wouldn’t wish that for you.”

“He says really bad things about you, sometimes.” He tells me. I knew that already, of course, I did.

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