“Nah. Dad had her sign an iron-clad prenuptial agreement right before they got married. She’ll be paid well, but she won’t take half of everything. He guaranteed that.”
“Your father is a very smart man,” I murmur against his chest.
He stirs beneath me, suddenly restless. Suddenly hard. “Let’s stop talking about my dad.”
I slip my hand downward, seeking and finding his erect cock. “Oh? Why do you say that?”
“Let’s do other—things.” He chokes out the last word when I stroke him from base to tip.
“What do you have in mind?” He’s rock hard yet velvety soft. I smooth my thumb over the tip of him, catching the wetness there. “I can’t believe you’re ready to go again.”
“It’s all your fault.” He moves fast, flipping me over so I’m on my back and he’s hovering above me once more. “Maybe this time around I’ll make it last.”
“Please do,” I murmu
r, closing my eyes when he shifts downward, his mouth on my stomach, his hands braced against my inner thighs, spreading me wide. I bite my lower lip, loving those tender kisses across my belly, sucking in a surprised breath when his mouth lands on my wet center. His tongue searches my folds as he slips a finger deep within me, and holy God, he’s going to make me come so fast I might faint.
If it’s always going to be like this between us, I’m afraid he might end up killing me.
But I guess death by good sex is a pretty great way to go.
Jensen
“I bet you didn’t expect me to be here, did you?”
Diane whips around at my words, her expression one of pure shock for all of about a second before it’s replaced with cool indifference. “What are you doing in my house?”
I’ve been waiting for her, for this moment, for what feels like hours. Days.
Years.
And now here we are, alone in the Montgomery house, with no one around for either of us to hide behind. Everything blew up in her face only a few days ago, so the emotions are still raw. The family is broken up, in turmoil, Parker angry at his wife and oldest son, and Rhett angry at his brother.
Me? I’m trying my best to stay neutral, but it’s difficult. I want to support Rhett, but I also want to get my digs in. That cliché rings true.
Old habits die hard.
We’re in the living room, Diane and I. The curtains are drawn, the room is dark, even though it’s early in the afternoon. I rise from the couch and start to approach her. She doesn’t move, doesn’t so much as flinch as I draw near, and I’m reluctantly impressed.
“This isn’t your house anymore,” I tell her, glee filling me at the flicker of irritation I spot in her gaze when I speak.
What I say is true. She doesn’t live with Parker any longer. The only reason she’s here is to pick up a few of her belongings while no one else is around. I saw texts between her and Addie last night, when I was hanging out with Addie at Rhett’s house while he was at basketball practice. We were binge watching a show on Netflix, munching on popcorn when I noticed someone kept blowing up Addie’s phone with endless texts. She caught me looking over her shoulder, and funny enough, she was the one who ended up feeling guilty.
“Diane wants her stuff,” Addie told me with a defensive shrug. “So I’m letting her know when the house is empty.”
“Won’t your father be angry?” I asked her softly.
“Probably, but I don’t know what else to do. She won’t leave me alone,” Addie confessed. “I figured this is the only way I can get her off my back.”
That’s why I’m at the house. The opportunity was handed to me, and I couldn’t pass it up. The old me would’ve jumped all over this chance, yet the new me said I didn’t need to waste my time. I didn’t need to get revenge on my mother. She’d ruined everything on her own.
But guess what? The old me won.
Rhett doesn’t know I’m here. No one knows, except Diane.
Who’s she going to tell?
“It isn’t your house either,” Diane says snottily, and I shake my head, already frustrated by our conversation.