“Shh.” He pushes his cock against my knee. “Let me take care of you.”
And suddenly his hand is there, cupping my pussy through my soaked panties, his fingers pressing just hard enough to make me whimper.
“Fuck,” he breathes, rubbing slow circles over my clit. “You’re dripping.”
I arch, my hips grinding into his hand and my nails digging into his thigh. “More?—”
He chuckles, dark and sexy, and then his fingers are inside me, curling just right, his thumb still working my clit. “This what you needed, baby?”
Yes. Yes. Fuck, YES.
I’m close, so fucking close, when he stops, pulling his hand away. I whine, grabbing his wrist to navigate it back but when I dare to open my eyes, I watch him licking his fingers, slow, obscene. “You taste even better than I imagined.”
It’s all I needed because in between of two single heartbeats, I’m on him—my mouth crushing his, his hands ripping my panties aside, his long finger pushing inside of me as I keep on humping him.
I hook my leg around him, pulling him closer until I feel the tension in his body as he presses against me. The friction builds slowly at first, then urgently, until I have to turn my face into his shoulder to muffle the sound I make. He doesn’t stop. A moment later I hear his breath catch sharply, and just when I come, there is warmth spreading against my knee as he finishes in his pants.
We stare at each other, still catching our breaths. Still figuring out what the fuck just happened, and what it means, and whether I’m going to survive it.
I open my mouth. Close it. Open it again.
But before either of us can say a word there’s a sound from the living room. We both go still.
Maybe we dry humped each other for hours or it already was early morning when I woke up but anyway, Colton’s ex is standing right in front of us, holding a plate of breakfast pastries.
TWENTY-NINE
Colton
“So, you’re a morning fucker now? I thought you couldn’t get a boner before 6 p.m.” she says, eyeing up Jenna as if she’s wants to burn her alive.
Jenna self-consciously pulls the blanket up to her chest and that’s enough for me to almost spiral. What the fuck is my ex doing here this early? I didn’t even know she still owned a key. I’ll get them replaced today.
I put a hand over Jennas knees, casually stroking them. There’s never a good time for Mira to drop by, but still, she managed to pick the absolute worst one. Right now, all I want is to kick her out so I can finally clean my damn pants in peace. “If a vampire lies next to me, yeah, it’s hard getting a boner. With the right person there’s never not a good time.”
She narrows her eyes again and I can see the hatred flooding in them. It’s quickly replaced with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes though.
And suddenly her tone is bright as she chirps, “Well, then good morning! I thought I’d drop by with something for Livy.” The false cheer in her voice could rot teeth.
“Normally I’d say it’s a pleasure to see you but not when it comes to you—I didn’t realize you still had a key. Don’t worry, though. It won’t work the next time you try to let yourself in uninvited.”
She tilts her head. “I have a meeting nearby later on. Thought I’d surprise my daughter with breakfast.” Her emphasis on “my daughter” is subtle but unmistakable. “And you are...?”
“Stop fucking with us, Mira. You know she’s my lawyer and my wife. This is bullshit.” I get up, using a blanket like a cape to cover up the big stain on my pants.
“Jenna Davis. Colton’s attorney. We saw each other in court three times…” Jenna says, still pulling at the blanket like it will save her from that horrible woman.
“Right, of course.” Mira’s cold smile tightens. “And you’re sleeping on the couch because...?”
“We were so busy making out all night that we missed bedtime. Is that enough explanation for your nosy self?” I grunt and Mira looks at me as if I just smashed a knife into her back. I quickly change into fresh sweats and a shirt, moving at lightning speed—I don’t want to leave Jenna alone with that monster.
When I’m back in the living room, I hear small footsteps behind her. Livy peeks around the pillar, her hair tousled from sleep. When she sees her mother, she doesn’t run to her. Instead, she comes up to me, pressing closer, one hand gripping the fabric of my pants. The gesture speaks volumes. I grip her back, protective.
“Olivia, sweetie!” Mira’s voice rises an octave. “Look what Mommy brought you!”
On the tray are four steaming croissants, fresh berries arranged in a perfect pattern, and a thermos that presumably contains orange juice. It’s a picture-perfect breakfast, like something staged for Instagram. I wonder how many photos she took of it before leaving her apartment.
My stomach twists as I force a smile. Not a polite one. This isn’t a casual breakfast visit. I don’t believe in coincidences—especially when they’re carrying pastries. Yeah, this is a calculated move. Mira hasn’t mentioned Livy’s wellbeing once in our legal proceedings. She’s fought for custody as if Livy were a prize to be won, not a child to be cared for. And now she shows up unannounced with breakfast? She wanted to catch us sleeping in different beds. I look at Jenna and her glance tells me she thinks the same. I really need to change the locks. Then, before I can signal to her that she needs to make the bed in the guest room, hiding all traces that could tell on us, Jenna rushes up with the blanket curled around her and leaves. She glances once at me before returning to her room and I know she had the same train of thought.
