Say Yes (Second Generation) Read online

  Say Yes

  Second Generation Series

  C.M. Steele

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Epilogue

  Copyrighted © 2021

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced, copied or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without written expressed permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is purely coincidental.

  Cover design: C.M. Steele

  Cover Image: Deposit Photos

  The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as advertisement. Trademark names are used in an editorial fashion with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and please purchase your own copy.

  Dean Jr.

  My parents found love by chance, and now I’ve done the same. For years I watched their love and craved the same thing for myself. Unfortunately, the girl I’ve fallen for is out of reach. One year of insane torture, and she’ll be mine. Can I hold out that long, or will she tempt me to break all the rules?

  Greta

  I’ve become the cliché: damsel in distress. Caught in a rainstorm without a ride home when my white knight rolls up to the rescue, and of course, I’ve fallen madly in love with him. He’s my best friend’s brother. Another check for the cliché department, and yet, I’m getting the feeling that he’s falling too.

  This is Dean Jr.’s story from the Say Uncle Doggy Style book.

  Prologue

  Dean Jr.

  I’ve just entered home from a long day on patrol of the south side. Shit’s getting hairy, and I nearly had a shootout with a drugged-out wife beater. When we finally had him in custody, I breathed a sigh of relief. Being a cop isn’t for the faint-hearted, but I love it, and I want to be just like my father. He’d retired early as a detective because his family had old money; he served the city of Boston well during his time. Now it’s my turn to show what I’m made of, even though I’ll get my trust fund of ten million dollars next year.

  I tug on my police vest as I get out of my Tahoe. Since I have an early start tomorrow, I need to get into the shower and a bite to eat before I pass out. My condo is close to my station, which turned out to be one hell of a benefit.

  I’ve just undressed and hit the shower when my phone rings. I climb out, wrapping a towel around my waist before grabbing my cell in case it’s work. Nearly stumbling into my bedroom, I see it’s my sister, Emily. “What’s up?” My voice is panicked because it’s well past midnight. She should be in bed. It’s the last week of Junior year, and she should be asleep, not calling me.

  “My friend needs someone to pick her up. She’s stranded at the mall with no ride home, and all buses stopped running.”

  Immediately I’m pissed off. I’ve never met this girl, but she’s a teen out this late with predators everywhere. “Where the fuck are her parents?” Our parents have always been super protective of us, so it’s ingrained in me to be the same way.

  “Out of town. Greta’s ride for work left without her, and she’s scared. Mom and Dad are busy, and you’re much closer to the mall than James or Benji.” That’s the code word for my parents fucking. They’re like rabbits. It’s crazy, but I love that they’re so damn happy together.

  “Okay. I’ll be there in five minutes.” I hurriedly get dressed and dash down to my SUV. The sky opens up in a torrential downpour as I pull out of the parking garage, adding insult to injury to this poor girl. I make it to the mall in record time. Searching through the pouring rain, I see her standing outside the Target where she works, attempting to stay under the eave, but it does no good. I pull up and roll down my window.

  “Are you Greta?” I don’t get a great look at her at first because she has her head down, avoiding the frigid rain.

  “Yesss,” she says, teeth chattering as she stands on the curb and a stiff wind breezes between us. It’s the end of May, but we’ve had a cold spell.

  “I’m Emily’s brother, Dean. She asked me to give you a ride home. Climb on in.” She moves closer, reaching for the handle, and I’m struck. This soaking wet little thing is beautiful. Long blonde hair, darkened slightly by the rain. Her bright blue eyes are captivating. Suddenly she freezes. Those eyes appear confused. God, I need to get a hold of myself.

  “What’s wrong?” I call out, leaning on the center console, stealing a better look at the little thing.

  She bites her bottom lip and shrugs. “You know the whole stranger danger thing?” She has a valid point.

  I nod and put up my hand. “I’m a Boston cop, but I don’t blame ya for not hopping in. Here hold on a sec.” I pull out my phone and dial Emily. “Hey, Em, tell your friend you sent me.” I hand her my phone after putting it on speaker.

  “Hey chick, get in the damn truck. My brother isn’t going to bite. I promise,” she huffs out. I can picture her rolling her eyes as she says it.

  “See.” I wave my hand to tell her to come in. Then, silently, she slides in and hands me the phone, keeping her head down, slips on her seatbelt. “Em, I’ll see you Sunday, okay?”

  “Sure thing. Thanks again, big bro.”

  “So your address, Greta?” She reads off her address, and I fucking blanch. It’s the same block where the situation went down today. She can’t fucking go back there alone.

  “Greta, I’ve got a spare bedroom. You can stay at my house tonight. It’s late and your parents aren’t home. It’s not safe, especially after what went down just two hours ago.”

  “Mr. Evans.” Goodness, she makes me sound old. Am I that much older than her? She’s got to be seventeen or close to eighteen. Shit. I’m twenty-four. Too old for her for at least another year.

  “Call me Dean.”

  “Dean, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Neither do I, especially the way she says my name, but I can’t help myself. A rush of protectiveness washed over me the second she lifted her gaze to mine. She’s probably only seventeen and still in fucking high school, so I use that to fight the growing need in my pants.

  “Why? I’m not going to do anything to you. You’re a kid. Besides, I’d feel better knowing that you were somewhere safe. It’s already fucked up that you were out here in the middle of the night where any sick fuck could have snatched you right up. There are traffickers all around the city.” That thought angers me even more now that I’ve seen the sweet Greta.

  “I know. I was scared. It’s a one-time thing anyway. My parents come back in two days and can drive me to and from work.”

  “That’s fine, but you have to be more cautious. Next time you need a ride, call Emily sooner. She can have me or my parents scoop you up.”

  “Emily and I just met two weeks ago.
I’m shocked she did this for me. She’s the only friend I have around here.”

  “Why the hell is that?” Who wouldn’t want to be friends with this sweet little thing? I bet all the guys noticed her.

  She smiles at me, which causes my heartbeat to quicken. “I’ve just moved here from Gary, Indiana. I only started working here today. I had no idea I’d get stuck. I thought at least the buses ran later.”

  “That’s okay. So tell me, are you a junior too?” Damn it. She couldn’t have been a senior?

  “Yes. Although it’s been pretty pointless since I’ve only been at school for a month, and I’m coming in mid-lesson. Luckily, I’ll still have all the transfer credits I need.”

  “That is lucky. Couldn’t your parents wait a month to move?” We’re at a red light, and the streetlight illuminates her face allowing me to catch another glimpse of her beauty. Her cheeks are pink, and I wonder if she’s cold. “Are you cold? Hungry?”

  “You ask a lot of questions.”

  She’s got me there. Although, I do have to say I want to know all I can about her. “I want to be a detective one day, so I guess it’s right up my alley. So? Are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “Cold? Hungry?”

  “Yes to both.” I turn on the heat a little higher on her side and hit the button for the heated seats.

  “Okay. It’s late, but there’s a drive-thru we could hit up.”

  “I don’t have any money.”

  I reach over and stop her frantic hands from twisting on her hair. “Relax, Greta. I didn’t ask if you did.”

  “Sorry. It’s just….”

  “Nothing to worry about.” We drive in silence until it’s time to order. Greta picks the same cheeseburger meal I do, and then we get our order. It’s another five minutes to my apartment. She’s anxious but doesn’t argue about coming along, which is fine by me. I park in my spot and then lead her to the elevators. My apartment is the penthouse suite, but it’s not too extravagant. What can I say? My mother is really hard to turn down. I’ve lived here since my second year in college. Funny, for the first time, this place feels like home. I take her wet coat and hang it over on the rack where I keep a mat just in case.

  “This is a very nice place. I can’t thank you enough.” Her teeth chatter again.

  “Shit. You’ve got to be freezing. I can see what I have that can fit you.” I’m out of my bedroom a minute later with a pair of shorts. They were two sizes too small for me five years ago that I’ve never managed to throw away because they were my high school basketball shorts when we won the state championship. I gave her my Bulls tee that my mom bought me for Christmas even though she knows I’m a Celtics fan. It’s an ongoing joke in our house because my mom’s a Bulls fan, and my dad’s a Celtics guy.

  “You like the Bulls?”

  “No. It’s a long story?”

  “An ex-girlfriend gift?”

  “No. My mom gave it to me.”

  “Okay. Well, I’ll go change really fast.” She pauses mid step and spins around. “Um…where can I change at?”

  “Oh, this way.” I lead her to the bathroom and walk away.

  I’ve set up our food at my kitchen table because the sofa’s a little too relaxed and intimate. “I’m in here,” I call out when I hear Greta’s footsteps.

  She comes in looking gorgeous in my clothes. Fuck me, she’s not wearing a bra. My dick practically bangs against the underside of the table at the sight. “Oh, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” I stay seated and eat, doing my best to avoid looking at the beauty, so this asshole will calm down. She’s too young. I chant in my head as I muscle down every bite. What makes matters worse is that she hasn’t taken her eyes off me.

  “I’m exhausted.”

  “If you’re done, toss in the bag and I’ll throw it in the garbage.”

  “Again. Thank you for everything.”

  “Let me show you where you can sleep.” I stand, taking the bag and dumping it in the trash. I can’t eat another bite either. “Follow me.” I take her to the guest bedrooms my sisters use when they spend the night. It’s rare, but they do. “Get some sleep and I’ll drop you off in the morning so you can get ready for school.”

  “I have to be at my bus stop by seven-thirty.”

  “That’s fine. My alarm is set for five-thirty anyway.” I leave her there and walk into my bedroom and close the door, locking it behind me. I don’t want to have temptation lurking. I let my fatigue take me.

  The next morning I drop her off at her house, waiting until she’s secure inside and then I pull onto the road and off to work. I hope that’s the last I see of the cute minor. I have one more school year before I can claim her. That’s a strange thought in my head. A year from next week. I try to shove it away because it’s for the best.

  Chapter One

  Dean Jr.

  A year to the day…

  I twist the shower handle to ice cold, but that has no effect on my dick. Every inch of the fucker is solid stone and ready to unload like it is every time Greta crosses my mind. Admitting defeat, I turn the spray to a normal temp and lube up my cock with bodywash and stroke the fucker.

  In my head Greta's already mine, and I'm doing everything possible to knock her up, but first I have to teach her a lesson about looking at me. She shyly refuses to meet my eyes, so I grip her chin. "Open, baby."

  She does and I slip the tip in and watch as she feels my cock on her lips for the first time. Groaning, I grip her hair, and tug her head up so her eyes are focused on mine. "Suck like the good girl you are. Every time you refuse to give me your eyes, I'm going to fuck your pretty mouth until you remember that I need them beauties. You don't lower your head to no one. Now suck. I need my balls empty." Greta opens wider, attempting to take me in as deep as she can, choking with just a couple of inches. She pulls off for a breath before going harder at it, taking another inch before gagging again. "What a fucking good wife you're going to make Greta. Where do you want me to come? Because I sure as fuck am."

  She moans before pulling off, and says, "In my pussy. I want you to fill me up with all your hot cum."

  I scoop her up and pin her against the wall, slamming my rod deep into her innocent slit until she cries out. I don't stop, pumping harder, faster, giving my woman what she needs. "I'm coming," she screams, and I do as well, shooting my load deep in her womb.

  I open my eyes to the mess I've made of my shower stall as my heart attempts to recover. I don't know how the fuck I'm supposed to handle it when I finally take her because I understand my fantasies got nothing on her. I wash up and then turn off the tap. Snagging a towel, I dry off and look at my semi-hard cock. "Stay under control today. I have a job to do."

  It's useless because it doesn't matter what I do, I can't get Greta out of my head almost all day. I run my electric razor over my face, trimming my growing beard down to a manageable scruff. After that's done, I find my suit for the day and change before heading into the station. It's going to be a long evening, but the cases are continually growing. It's the one job that will always be in need, a homicide detective. I haven't been in my position for more than a few months, so I get the shittiest cases, late night calls, of which there are many. Sometimes I go from one damn crime scene to the next depending on a given night, especially weekends when fools run amok.

  Once I'm dressed, I send a text to my brother to give me details about Greta and who the fuck her date is. So far, no one has mentioned it. Benji and James claim they have no idea who he is because the girls have been completely mum about the whole situation.

  Two minutes later, my dad sends me a text. Relax. Don't go guns blazing in there to kill her date.

  Don’t worry. I’m working all night.

  Then that means I’ll be worrying. I love you, son.

  Love you too, dad.

  I haven’t seen her in months, and tonight’s the night I’ve been dreading. She’s fucking going to prom with some jackass, and I c
an’t do shit about it.

  The ride to the station is filled with stress. I don’t know what they have in store for me today, but it’s never ever good. I’m going to watch some family suffer with grief as they learn their loved one has been killed. Roxbury’s my usual area, so I expect to be too busy to think of Greta. However as soon as I get inside, my partner, Malcolm McKnight comes up to me with a grin on his face. “We got the son of a bitch.”

  “Who?”

  “Grady Taylor. We know where he’s holed up. The team is getting ready. Are you coming? This is your case.”

  “Fuck yes.” He hands me the arrest warrant. He’s been on the run for a week now after killing his wife and child. I want his ass strung up by his balls, but I’m sure he’ll get life in prison without the possibility of parole. I suit up in the swat gear and head out with my team. As we get closer to the area, I get a text and check it. It’s from Emily. Doesn’t she look beautiful?

  Like a dream. That’s all I add because I refuse to deal with the jealous rage pumping through me. The thought of someone else holding her close, dancing and posing with her sets my teeth on edge.

  I seethe in my vehicle as I read the warrant information on this asshole I’m about to arrest. He’s been wanted on drug trafficking and two counts of murder, so I don’t know if he’s going to come quietly or we’re going to have a fight on our hands. I’m betting on the latter, but I can’t get Greta out of my head. I can’t stop thinking about how much I miss her and that even though we hardly know much about each other, I need her.

  “Are you ready?” my partner asks.

  I nod. “Hell yeah. I want him to face what he’s done.” I could never harm Greta. Even if she never wanted to be with me, so I can’t even picture what this asshole did to his family. He butchered them, blamed an intruder and then went on the run when all the evidence pointed to him as the only possible suspect.

  I have a job to do and it’s not one I take lightly, so I do my best to give my sole focus to my mission. My team is ready to make the arrest, so I take a deep, calming breath and then exit my vehicle. I pull out my gun and quietly and quickly rush to the front door where Taylor’s been hiding out. With a loud pounding, I call out, “Taylor, it’s the Boston PD. Open up.”