She tossed her hair over her shoulders and gazed off at the bay. “Impressionable, am I?”
The last thing I realized tonight—and by far the most important—was that I was almost completely certain I’d fallen in love with Sunny somewhere between yelling at her about flowerpots and being happy that she liked the ravioli, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
* * *
“Mmm. This is good.”Sunny gave a tentative rock of her hips and I died a little at the unbelievable pressure that came with being fully seated inside her. “I like this position.”
I loosened my hold on her waist as she shifted, swiveling into a steady rhythm over me. I leaned forward, swiped my tongue over a nipple. Died some more at the answering clench around my cock. “Do you want to read another chapter?”
She dropped her hands to my chest as she found the angle she liked. “Later. I’d lose my balance if I tried to hold a book.”
“I’ll keep you steady.”
She nodded as her eyes closed and her lips parted. “I don’t think we need to hear how hard Stella’s getting pounded right now or how Cal is quietly trying to tell her with his cock that he loves her.” She dug her nails into my skin as she sped up, her legs tensing and a breathy sigh passing over her lips every time she hit the sweet spot. “I want to save that for—”
I’d say my favorite part of sex with Sunny was when she lost her words and turned into a feral creature capable only of gasping out syllables and chasing orgasms like her life depended on it, but it was all my favorite part. Even the uncertain moments at the beginning when she had to remind herself that she was safe with me, that we’d stop if it was ever too much. All of these moments were my favorites.
“I’m,” she panted, “going—to—”
“I know,” I whispered, stroking deep into her and telling her I loved her the only way I could right now.
chaptertwenty-three
Beckett
Today’s Special:
Confit of Calamity
As I joggeddown the back stairs from my office, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. I was having a damn good day. Hell, a good week. I’d spent every one of the past seven nights with Sunny. Parker was speaking to me on a regular basis. Ayla officially gave notice with the hotel she was running at Lake Louise and she had committed to taking over management of the oyster company in September. SPOC was finally back to pre-FBI-raid staffing levels and I didn’t feel an overwhelming urge to throw any of the new servers over the deck and into the cove.
My life, it wasn’t in complete shambles today.
“What’s wrong with your face?” Mel shouted from behind the bar. “Did you get stung by a bee or something?”
“I just got off the phone with my lawyer,” I said.
“And you’re going into anaphylactic shock as a result?”
“No,” I said with a laugh. “There’s been some progress on Rabbit’s case. They got a few of the charges tossed out.”
“We’ll take it. Every inch we can get, we’ll take.” Mel tapped the touchscreen in front of her, adding, “Any update on Sandy?”
I drummed my fingers on the bar top. “Adrian thinks the charges against her could be dropped if she returns to the US and immediately surrenders to the Marshals.”
Mel glanced at me, her eyes bright. “Really? Sandy’s coming home?”
It wasn’t until this moment that I realized other people missed my parents. My tendency was to assume everyone else loved my parents to pieces and still breathed a sigh of relief when they weren’t around. The way my brothers did. The wayIdid.
“Bringing her home requires her getting in contact with us,” I said carefully. I didn’t know where my mother was and I had to make sure no one caught an impression to the contrary. Agent Price was sure to be around here somewhere and I knew it would make that dude’s day to slap cuffs on me. “We’ll just have to wait until the next time she finds a burner phone to pass that message along. And this stuff moves at a glacial pace. Even if she hops on a plane tomorrow, Adrian says she’ll spend some time in federal custody.”
Mel bobbed her head but kept her gaze down. “I just miss her, you know? I miss sitting here with her after service and talking about everything. She gives the best advice, even if it’s kooky as hell and requires five non sequitur stories about being on the road with a bunch of gnarly rocker dudes to get to the point.”
“Yeah. She does.”
“You have to brace yourself for the stories though,” Mel said with a watery laugh. “If you don’t know what you’re in for, it seems like she’s just talking out of her ass about something too ridiculous to be believable.”
“I hope it doesn’t come as a surprise to you but all that ridiculousness is rooted in reality.”
