Wrong Move

21 - Old Lady

"You look like a fucking Cheshire Cat." Mission scoffed, hoisting one box up. It made me smile wider. I put my beer next to Mission's on one box. I grunted, shifting one of the heavy deliveries around to the back of the clubhouse. I wanted to get this done quickly so I could get back inside and wait for Tay to arrive. I hadn't seen her all day, and I was looking forward to pulling her on my lap, her warmth seeping through my jeans. I could bury my nose in her neck and suck up her citrus scented body wash like an addict. It was something I would never take for granted, the little ways in which she allowed me access to her. I felt like I hit the jackpot every time she smiled at me.

"I take it things are going well with Tay. You must have cum gallons." He laughed, and I wrinkled my nose at him.

"Don't talk about my cum, but yeah, things are great."

Tay had slept over last night, for the first time in the cottage I'd bought, hoping and wishing for a future with her. It had been some kind of heaven to go to sleep wrapped around her. She complained I was like an octopus, but who wouldn't want to smother themselves around a warm, naked Tay? I still couldn't believe it.

I'd been in a daze for weeks.

Ever since the innocent movie night when Tay had slammed past my defenses.

When she'd thrown her leg over my waist? When she'd just ripped her top off, her gorgeous fuckin' tits right in my face? I combusted on the spot, a tiny match flicker lighting up a firecracker.

Exploding, repeatedly.

All I needed now was for Tay to accept that she was my old lady. It was inevitable. I knew that, and I was fairly certain Tay knew it, too. She wanted to make me sweat a bit more and if that's what she needed to do, then I would melt into a puddle for her. We walked back around the other boxes. Mission seemed tense tonight. His shoulders were hiked up around his shoulders and his tone had an edge to it. Like he was picking a fight.

"She's not wearing your name on her back. Does that mean she's up for taking?" Mission teased, and I leaned forward and swiped his beer glass off the side of the box. It didn't shatter, more's the pity, but Mission pouted like a little bitch, which made me feel better.

"Rude," he grumbled, leaning over to mourn the beer seeping into the ground.

"She's mine." I growled, and he fished the glass up with a roll of his eyes.

"Alright Tarzan, calm down. I was just teasing." He thumped his chest and said gruffly, "Tay my girl. Tay mine."

"She is." I said smugly. "What about Jade? She's a great girl, gonna claim her properly?"

Mission toyed with the glass, one shoulder lifting and falling in a nonchalant shrug.

"Don't be coy," I teased. "She's good for you."

"She's incredible in bed, a fuckin' dream. But she's a club girl. I like her. I love sleeping with her, but I'm not claiming her forever. Club girls don't become old ladies, they're pussy, nothing more."

"What the fuck Mission? Don't give me that. If all you wanted was her in your bed, you wouldn't be calling her your girlfriend." A shiver went down my spine and I glared at Mission. Jade was an incredible girl, Tay's best friend, and anyone would be lucky to claim her. She loved fiercely, and she loved hard. She was loyal and she would throw down for the people in her life. I had thought Mission, and her were on the same page. He just shrugged, like it didn't mean anything.

"We can't all have a fairytale relationship like you," he sneered.

"She know that?" I prodded, my eyebrows inching up my forehead.