He angles into a parking spot at the doctor’s office. “They miss you too. They didn’t say it, but you being permanent with a man so far away is hard on them. We’ll need to find a way for you to have more face time with them.”
Sure.
With all the time and money I don’t have.
65
lady blue balls
Lorien
“We have a stop to make before we can go home.”
I want to growl. Or whine. Maybe I do.
Seriously? I just got cleared. Like cleared-cleared, and we can have sex and we’re stopping on the way home?
I could unzip my pants, slide my fingers inside my panties, andencouragehim to avoid this useless stop. But no matter my comfort level with him, or how bold he makes me want to be in bed, we’re in a moving vehicle on Downing Street and I’m just not that girl.
I swear, though, if he delays us too long, I might become her.
By his turns, we’re near downtown. While this is fun and I like the area, I love the man driving and want him inside of me.
“Does the cat have your tongue?” he asks.
“No.” I fight the petulance in my voice and stare out the window and wonder what in the world would be worth the delay.
He turns onto Larimer and finds a parking spot. Who gets a spot in Larimer Square in the evening? I’m met with the disappointment that this won’t be a quick stop.
There’s another car here, which either means dinner or socializing.
When did I become so horny for this man that enjoying dinner is a hardship? Move-in day is my guess. Or, more thanthat, when three broken ribs meant an orgasm caused more pain than pleasure.
The bruises faded. The sharp stitch of pain with a deep breath did not. Until it did. Even then, the man who was willing to pierce his dick for my pleasure wasn’t willing to risk me. Chivalry isn’t dead; my lady blue balls are proof.
“What are we doing here?” I ask, sliding out of the passenger’s side.
He rounds the hood, back to full strength after his injuries, too, and extends a palm, enveloping mine, and not answering my question.
We enter Aspen & Evergreen, Ayla’s gallery, and I have to fight to keep my attention on the people in the room. The photos are so breathtaking, so distracting, that it’s hard not to gawk.
Christian mills about with Sophia who’s more and more beautiful by the day. She’s alert and smiles when she hears her godfather’s cooing encouragement. He’s so soft and gentle with her.
Knowing what I know. Knowing he took a bullet for her. Knowing he put one in a man’s brain for me, the juxtaposition between the Liam the world knows and the Liam his family knows is black and white.
“How did today go?” He addresses Sophia, but his question is for Ayla, whose focus is on the gallery’s focal point piece, a moose under tree cover, standing below the mountains that loom proudly.
“Good. Bad. Shit.” She turns our way.
Christian clears his throat, focusing on her.
“Oh, whatever. You think she won’t hear that word in this family? From your own mouth?”
“I’ll at least try.”
“Yeah, well.” She turns from her husband to her brother. “He’s just as arrogant, even with all the information that came out in the deposition. Acted untouchable. He kept that shit up even when the recording with his own voice, in his own words, started and he admitted to what went down with Christian and with Ci. And all the rest. He got taken down a peg with that. Tomorrow isthe video from the ridge.” She shakes her head. “We’ll see how long he can keep it up.
“Do you want me there with you?” Liam asks.
