She’s gravitated so close now that she’s only a couple feet away. She sways her hips and steps into the light, gyrating her body in a way that should be illegal.
I tense up watching her, admiring how her copper skin radiates and her plush, pouty red lips beg to be kissed.
Solana.
…of course it’s Solana.
She slides into my lap, straddling me and looping her arms around my neck. I have to bite back a groan as her weight settles on me and she starts circling her hips right above my dick.
She grinds against me while holding my gaze, hers dark and sinful.
Begging me to give in. Tempting me like no man has been tempted before.
“I know you want me,” she purrs, gyrating her hips, creating friction between us. Her pussy against my dick, even with thelayers of clothing between us. “Just give in, Silver. Stop fighting it.”
I swallow tightly, my breathing deepening as I try to shake my head.
But she only smirks then leans forward, running her tongue across the seam of my lips. And this time, I can’t keep it in. I can’t hold back the groan that rumbles from my chest as her hand reaches between us and she grabs my?—
I jerk awake to my phone buzzing beside me on the living room end table. I’m disoriented but erect, slouched on my couch in yesterday’s clothes.
It takes me another second to remember I’d sat down to watch some late-night TV once me and Ozzie got home from dealing with Spencer. Somewhere along the line, I must’ve dozed off.
There’s a crick in my neck as I sit up straighter and reach for my phone like I’m not hard as hell right now.
I’m half expecting to see Solana’s name on the screen. The name I do see brings a pulse of disappointment along with it. I can’t say I’m in the mood for more sparring with my ex-wife.
“Yeah?” I answer, skipping the hello.
“Can you take the kids for Spring Break?” she asks, equally as blunt. “Fred and I have plans.”
“Plans. Right.” I stand up, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Let me guess—Vegas? Cabo? Somewhere romantic while I play babysitter?”
“Theyareyour children, Jack. Not babysitting when it’s your own kids.”
“Funny how you only remember that when it’s convenient foryou. When you want to run off with Fred. But when I want to take Jack to the arcade on a random Tuesday, suddenly we need to stick to the custody schedule.”
“You always do this,” she snaps. “Always make me the bad guy. The bitter ex-wife who won’t let you see your kids.”
“You do that well enough on your own, Rachel.”
Silence follows for half a beat, then her voice goes totally cold. “You know what? Forget it. Tabby’s old enough to watch Jack for a few days. I’ll have Solana check in on them.”
The mention of Solana’s name sends an unwanted jolt through me. “Rachel, wait. I’ll take?—”
“Thanks for nothing, Jack. As usual.”
She hangs up before I can respond. I toss my phone onto the couch and heave a deep sigh.
It’s barely nine a.m. and I’m already exhausted. Between the Spencer situation, dreams about Solana that leave me aching and guilty, the club situation with Tom, and Rachel’s bullshit, I’m running on empty.
I’ll circle back to Rachel later and let her know I’ll take the kids. I’ll let her run off on her mini vacation so she can go fuck her boyfriend 24/7.
But first I’ve got other business to handle.
The clubhouse is more or less empty when I show up. I go straight to the office expecting to find Tom alone. Instead I walk into the middle of a meeting where he’s holding court like some kind of king.
Moses, Mudd, and Johnny Flanagan are gathered around him like disciples. The way they’re leaning in, the excited energy in the room—I know exactly what he’s pitching before he even opens his mouth.
