Page 135 of The Right Kind of Wrong

Lainey was standing on something behind the bar that put her feet higher than the crowd, and she pointed directly at Noah. “You, and the two that you came in with, get out.”

Monroe watched as Lainey put her mouth closer to the microphone: “Nah-nah-nah-nah. Nah-nah-nah-nah. Hey, hey, hey. Goodbye.” She sang the tune slowly, soulfully, letting the sounds stretch out.

Maybe the crowd wouldn’t have joined in if they’d known it was Noah Duvall they were cheering out of the venue, but at least half the bar was legally drunk at this point, and so they all started singing along.

It was, truly, one of the most satisfying moments of Monroe’s life.

And it only felt better when Blake looked at her with a hunger that made every molecule in Monroe’s body roar to life.

She almost wished they’d been the ones to get kicked out. She didn’t know how long she could wait for whatever Blake had in store for her.

“Come on, baby,” Monroe panted against Blake’s neck, Blake riding her fingers with abandon.

A sound bordering on a scream left Blake’s parted lips, and she started grinding her hips harder down into Monroe.

They’d only made it as far as the sofa.

If Blake had had her way, Monroe thought, it would have been the doorway. Honestly, maybe the sidewalk leading up to Blake’s house.

For a second, when she had looked into the back seat, where Monroe had been sitting on the ride home, she’d wondered if Blake was going to crawl back there and sit on her lap.

Which, for the record, she wouldn’t have minded one bit.

Holland, however, would probably have been another story.

What it came down to was that, even though Blake didn’t need Monroe to defend her from her asshole of an ex-husband, apparently she’d really, really appreciated it.

And she was showing Monroe that appreciation now.

Because there was nothing that Monroe liked more than Blake riding her fingers, rolling her controlled hips down against her, their thighs pressing together.

“Have I told you how hot it was, watching you handle Noah like that?” Blake asked breathlessly, digging her fingers into Monroe’s shoulders.

“You can tell me as many times as you want,” Monroe husked out, trying to maintain her rhythm.

Which wasn’t easy, with the way Blake’s hips were growing more frenetic, her cadence faltering whenever Monroe hit deep inside before drawing her fingers out and thrusting back in, zeroing in on the same spot again and again.

When Monroe rubbed her fingers in the perfect place, Blake would keen and then cry out before rutting herself harder against Monroe’s hand.

Monroe had always enjoyed giving more than receiving, but nothing compared to the way Blake felt on top of her, tits bouncing right at Monroe’s eye level, begging for her to drag her teeth against Blake’s nipples just to hear her cry out again.

She did, and Blake moaned into the empty house. They didn’t need to be quiet, and Monroe wanted to take full advantage of it.

“You’re taking me so well,” she praised Blake, who arched her back and threw her arms around Monroe’s shoulders. “So fucking well.”

And she really was. Every time that Monroe thrust into her, Blake met her, beat for beat. She let out her own moan when she hit the ridged texture inside of Blake again, causing her hips to falter.

“I want it,” Blake cried out, her hands finding their way to Monroe’s shoulders, nails digging into skin. “I want whatever you can give me.”

Her gaze dropped down to Monroe’s, and she could see that Blake was on the verge of coming. The color wrapped around her chest. The way that she was biting her lip, anticipating the strokes that would take her over the edge. Around Monroe’s fingers, she could feel Blake’s walls clenching, the pressure mounting inside both of them.

“Good girl. Take me just like that,” Monroe commanded, her other hand coming up to hold Blake’s hip firm, guiding her movements. “Ride me just like that. Show me how good you can take me.”

Satisfaction slid through Monroe when Blake followed her instructions. She loved Blake like this. Open and so fucking trusting that Monroe was going to take her exactly where she needed to go.

Monroe took that trust seriously.

She took that responsibility seriously.