“You want some ice cream? I don’t think it’s all melted.” She lifted her sack of groceries and tried her best to smile.
“Okay.” Simon stuck around and played with Mitzy. The cat actuallycouldplay.
Lucy wouldn’t have believed it until she saw for herself the two of them together. She’d texted Jeff that they needed to talk. Turned out he knew a little of what was going on—although not the extent. One of the jerk kids belonged to the mayor. Small-town politics came into play and all that. None of Jeff’s explanations helped Simon, though.
After he left, Lucy went to work on her laptop. She blew out a breath and continued her online search. A story brewed here. A story that would help Simon and the kids like him. A story that needed to be told.
By her.
The glow of her screen kept her company for the next hours. She continued to search every lead she could find about the district’s policies on bullying. All the hairs on her arms raised when she followed yet another link. Kids being horrible in Confluence didn’t begin and end with Simon—not that she’d ever believed that. Cruelty seemed to escalate with each grade level so by the time high school rolled around the campus became a free-for-all of asshattery.
She stuck her hand in the popcorn she’d made hours ago. Her fingernails scraped only the bottom of the metal bowl and a few errant kernels that’d fought the good fight and refused to give in to the heat. She glanced around the dark kitchen to where a breeze blew the polyester curtains over the stove.
Crud. Dinner. William.
She ran a hand through her hair and scraped her chair back against the linoleum. Not that she needed to impress him, but—oh, who was she kidding? She wanted him to want her. At least for now, until the official transition.
Her feet barely hit the carpet in the living room when William raised his hand to knock on the sliding glass door of her patio. The collar of his white shirt lay unbuttoned, his tie dropped haphazard against it. He’d ditched the suit coat, but the slacks fit him oh so very nice.
Meanwhile, she was in ratty cut-off sweatpants with popcorn breath.
Her eye makeup was on point, however.
She slid open the door along the thin metal rail. “Hey.”
“Hey, you.” He ran a hand over her hair.
She’d never been one to be touchy feely, but she wasn’t going to lie to herself—she liked his hands on her. A lot.
She might as well enjoy them while she could.
His eyebrows scrunched together.
“What…” she began.
He held up a kernel of popcorn.
“Oh.” She plucked the kernel from between his fingers. Her face heated. “Right. I should change and handle…uh…this.”
A sly grin quirked the side of his lips. “No need to change. Let’s order in.”
Before she could ask, “pizza or barbeque?” his lips were on hers. Hungry. Delicious. William.
She breathed in his scent, a comfort to her supremely crappy day. The kernel in her hand fell to the carpet. In the deepest recesses of her mind she had a vague recollection about a boundary discussion that should happen before they took this further. He moaned. The thought drifted away. They could discuss boundaries later. Later when she had any kind of resolve. Which was not the present moment.
She opened her mouth to his demands and wrapped her arms around his neck. His tongue slid against hers, mimicking all the things she’d like him to do to her once they got to the bed.
He broke the kiss and she nearly begged him to come back. Instead, he turned and pulled the curtains closed. Then, somehow, and she wasn’t quite sure how it happened, her back pressed into the shag carpet and he was on top of her.
That worked too. She spread her knees and made sounds that she was pretty sure she’d regret later. His erection dug against his fly to the seam of her sweatpants. He thrust against her—the layers of cloth abrading her sensitive skin until she was on the edge, ready to fall. Her head dropped to the side, but he apparently wasn’t having that. His mouth caught hers, bringing her back to him. He reached behind to his back pocket and dropped the wallet beside her ear. Not once did his mouth move from hers. In a slick motion he had a condom in his palm and rose to his knees.
No. No. No. She’d been rightthere.
“Will,” she begged.
“Panties off.” Somehow his words sounded like a command and a growl all wrapped up in one.
She’d only gotten her pants and panties past her toes when he was back to her. He had barely pulled down his own slacks and with a feral grunt he was inside her. And it was heaven.
