His grip tightened to the point of pain. The perfect kind of pain. “Am I the only one who gets to eat your ass?”
My stomach dipped. “Yes,” I whispered.
“Fuckin’ right,” he growled.
Then he thrust inside me.
And fucked me all night long. Reminding me that my body may have belonged to me in the daylight when he wasn’t around, but it was all his when the sun went down.
If you’d asked me Edmond’s name that night, I wouldn’t have been able to utter it. I hadn’t been able to think about anything but Kace.Edmond had called just like he’d said he would.
I watched his name light up on my phone screen the very next morning. Early, but not too early. Right after I’d gotten the kids to school and was settled on my laptop with a coffee, brainstorming jobs I could maybe get with a decade-long hole in my resume that would feed, clothe and house me and my children.
So far, I had stripper, cam girl and jewelry thief. The list was definitely depressing and unrealistic, so I would’ve grasped on to almost any reason to abandon it, eager to be distracted by anything, except talking to Edmond on the phone.
He’d be polite, ask questions. Thoughtful ones. Then he’d try to make a plan for our next date. He’d be insistent, not pushy, but in a way I’d feel uncomfortable rejecting him, forced to come up with a suitable excuse, then having to bump into him in the frozen food section.
Why had I gone on that date? I really hadn’t thought this through.
No, I had thought it through. I couldn’t become too close to Kace, getting tangled with another member of the Sons. I’d ruin my kid’s lives if I didn’t at least try to give them some other kind of life.
Not that I’d tried hard with Edmond. But the thought of going through another date, trying to be whatever version of myself I’d have to be to date a man like him, sounded less appetizing than a pap smear.
So I ignored the call. I was not ready to have a conversation with him. I’d only put it off until sometime tonight. Or maybe in the hours when he’d most likely be working. A voicemail would be so much easier. Sure, it’d be bitchier, too, but right now I didn’t care much about whether it was or wasn’t a bitch move, I just wanted the easy one. Every choice I made was based on ease now. It was trouble enough just getting through the day without screaming or necking a bottle of vodka.
Every decision was based on ease.
Except Kace.
That wasn’t even a decision.
It was insanity.
I sighed and went back to my list. I could try and go back to the bookstore. I adored it there, but Evan was about to let his son take over, and I figured that his son would be able to handle the books. Even if they did employ me, it wouldn’t pay enough to even cover our monthly grocery bill.
“Stripping? Not that you don’t have the body for it, especially the ass, but I think that spells trouble for me.” The voice came from right over my shoulder, breath hot on my neck.
I jumped in shock, spilling my coffee in the process. “Fuck!” I snapped, slamming my laptop closed, storming toward the kitchen and putting it on the counter while I grabbed some paper towels.
Then I mopped up the spilled coffee, all the while not acknowledging Kace’s presence. He stood there, watching me do all of this, not speaking or offering to help, even though the mess was his fault. To be fair, I would’ve damn near bitten his head off if he had offered to help, so maybe he was playing it smart. Or maybe he was just an asshole.
Once I’d cleaned up the mess and got myself in a condition where I could face him enough to speak evenly, I did.
“How did you get in here?” I asked calmly.
His eyes flickered over me as they always did. As if he hadn’t just left my bed in the early hours of the morning. As if I didn’t have marks on my ass and tits from the magnificent way he’d fucked me last night.
And my body responded accordingly, the traitorous bitch.
“You left the door unlocked,” he nodded toward the front of the house. “You gotta stop doin’ that shit.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I narrowed my eyes. “You’ve gotta stop thinking you can comment on what I do and don’t do. You’ve also gotta stop walking into my house without permission. My kids could’ve been here.”
“Your kids are at school,” he countered.
“It could’ve been a teacher day, or someone could’ve been home sick.”
“It’s not and there wasn’t. Can you stop throwing fuckin’ sass at me and let me know what the fuck that list is?” He didn’t sound pissed exactly. But definitely not as carefree as he usually did. It was last night. It had changed something. He’d claimed me in every way he could, and now he’d gone all alpha on me. Showing up like he had the right, talking to me like I was more than just a fuck.