Lover Revealed

Chapter Twelve

'He does so look like his grandfather.' Joyce O'Neal Rafferty leaned over the crib and tucked the blanket around her three-month-old son. This debate had been on going since his birth, and she was tired of it. Her son clearly took after her father.

'No, he looks like you.'

As Joyce felt her husband's arms wrap around her middle, she fought the need to pull away. He didn't seem to mind the baby weight, but it made her anxious as hell.

Hoping to get him focused elsewhere, she said, 'So on Sunday you have a choice. You can either handle Sean by yourself or you can pick up Mother. What do you want to do?'

He dropped his hold on her. 'Why can't your father get her from the nursing home?'

'You know Dad. He doesn't deal with her all that well, especially in the car. She'll get agitated, he'll get frustrated with her, and we'll have a mess at the baptism when they get there.'

Mike's chest rose and fell. 'I think you better deal with your mother. Sean and I will be fine. Maybe one of your sisters can come with us?'

'Yeah. Colleen, maybe.'

They were silent a while, just watching Sean breathe.

Then Mike said, 'Are you going to invite him?'

She wanted to curse. In the O'Neal family, there was only one 'him.' Brian. Butch. The 'him.' Of the six children Eddie and Odell O'Neal had had, two of them had been lost. Janie had been murdered, and Butch had basically disappeared after high school. The latter had been a blessing, the first a curse.

'He won't come!'

'You should invite him anyway.'

'If he shows up, Mother will become unglued.'

Odell's rapidly escalating dementia meant she sometimes thought Butch was dead and that was why he wasn't around. Her other option for dealing with the loss was making up crazy stories about him. Like how he was running for mayor down in New York. Or how he was going to medical school. Or how he was his father's son and that was why Eddie couldn't stand him. All of which were nuts. The first two for obvious reasons and the third because while it was true Eddie had never liked Butch, Eddie had never particularly liked any of his children.

'You should invite him anyway, Joyce. This is his family.'

'Not really.'

Last time she'd talked to her brother had been… God, at her wedding five years ago? And no one else had seen or heard much from him since then, either. Word in the family had it that her father had gotten a message from Butch back in… August? Yeah, end of summer. He'd given a number he could be reached at, but that was about it.

Sean let out a little whiffle through his nose.

'Joyce?'

'Oh, come on, he won't show if I ask him.'

'So you get the credit for putting the offer out and won't have to deal with him. Or maybe he'll surprise you.'

'Mike, I'm not calling him. Who needs more drama in this family?' Like her mother being crazy and having Alzheimer's wasn't enough of a problem?

She made a show of checking her watch. 'Hey, is CSI on?'

With determination, she pulled her husband out of the nursery, distracting him from things that were none of his business.

Marissa wasn't sure what time it was when she woke up, but she knew she'd been asleep for a long while. As her eyes opened, she smiled. Butch was out cold and crowding her at her back, his thick thigh between her legs, his hand cupping her breast, his head in her neck.

As she rolled over slowly and faced him, her eyes drifted down his body. The sheet he'd pulled up earlier had slid off him, and underneath the thin hospital gown, something thick rested at his hips. Good Lord… an erection. He was aroused.

'What you looking at, baby?' Butch's low voice was mostly gravel.

She jumped and glanced up. 'I didn't know you were awake.'

'I never went to sleep. Been watching you for hours.' He pulled the sheet back into place and smiled. 'How you doing?'

'Good.'

'You want we call for some break—'

'Butch.' Exactly how was she going to put this? 'Males do what you made me do, right? I mean, last night when you were touching me.'

He flushed and tugged at the sheet. 'Yeah, we do. But you don't need to worry about that.'

'Why?'

'Just don't have to.'

'Would you let me look at you?' She nodded at his hips. 'Down there?'

He coughed a little. 'You want that?'

'Yes. God, yes… I want to touch you there.'

With a soft curse, he muttered, 'What happens might shock you.'

'I was shocked when your hand was between my legs. Is it shocking like that? In that good kind of way?'

'Yeah.' His hips shifted, as if they'd rotated on the base of his spine. 'Jesus… Marissa.'

'I want you naked.' She sat up on her knees and reached for his johnny. 'And I want to strip you.'

He took her hands in a hard grip. 'I, ah… Marissa, do you have any idea what happens when a man comes? Because sure as shit, that's going to happen if you start handling me. And it's not going to take long.'

'I want to find out. With you.'

He closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. 'Dear Lord in heaven.'

Lifting his upper body off the bed, he leaned forward so she could slip the two halves of the gown down his arms. Then he let himself fall back on the mattress and his body was revealed: the thick neck plugged into those broad shoulders… the heavy pads of his pectorals that were dusted with hair… the ribbed expanse of his belly… and…

She pulled back the sheet. Good God, his sex was… 'It's gotten so… huge.'

Butch barked out a laugh. 'You say the nicest things.'

'I saw it when it was… I didn't know it got…'

She just couldn't take her eyes off his erection as it lay against his belly. His hard sex was the color of his lips and shockingly beautiful, the head blunt with a graceful ridge, the shaft perfectly round and very thick at the base. And the twin weights below were heavy, shameless, virile.

Maybe humans were larger than her kind?

'How do you like to be touched?'

'If it's you, any way.'

'No, show me.'

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and his chest expanded. When he lifted his lids, his mouth parted and he slowly eased his hand down his pecs and his belly. Moving one of his legs out to the side, he captured himself in his palm, fisting that dark pink flesh of his, his man hand broad enough to hold the thing. With a slow, smooth movement, he stroked his arousal, base to tip, riding the shaft.

'Or something like this,' he said hoarsely, keeping it up. 'Good God, look at you… I could come right now.'

'No.' She pushed his arm out of the way and the erection bounced stiffly on his stomach. 'I want to make you do that.'

As she took hold of him, he groaned, his whole body undulating.

He was hot. He was hard. He was soft. He was so thick she couldn't close her palm all the way around