“No,” I deadpan, taking her almost empty Unipug mug and placing it on the coffee table next to mine, scooching closer to her. “I can’t judge your mom for her choices, Lauren. She had you to think of as well, but you were strong enough to leave. Empty-handed with nowhere to go, you still got up and got out.”
“You make it sound like some heroic act.” Lauren scowls, more at herself than at me, so I pull her over my lap and force her to look at me as she keeps putting herself down. “I had somewhere to go. I had Trista. I had a job. I’m not sure I would have had the courage to leave otherwise, and I didn’t have a child as an excuse.”
“You are the strongest, bravest, most awe-inspiring woman I have ever met, Lauren Banks,” I declare with a soft voice, my heart warming at the spark that reignites in her bright eyes at my words. “And I will not stop telling you that, even after you believe it yourself. I’ll be that nagging voice in your ear that’ll keep reminding you how remarkable you are.”
“You and your words,” she whispers, eyes shimmering with unshed tears, and I bring my forehead to hers.
“Are they working?”
“They always do, Cupcake.” She laughs.
“I had a backup plan in case they didn’t.” I grin at the excitement that lights up her eyes. The heat invading them almost has me laughing, but I stop short of telling her that wasn’t what I meant because who am I to say no to a morning romp. And the fact that it makes Lauren happy? Bonus.
“We should get a condom.” Lauren moves to stand up, but I grab her bathrobe belt, pulling her against me, and she gazes at me questioningly. I smile and pull a foil from between the couch cushions.
“I hid these around the house. I had a feeling we might need them, seeing how insatiable you are.”
“Where else did you hide them?” She looks pleased with my foresight, turned on by the thought of being able to fuck all over the loft without having to stop to get a condom from the bedroom every time.
“Shower, your workspace, the kitchen.”
“The kitchen, huh?” She bites her lower lip, and I can see the ideas running through her head.
“You like that?” I ask as I knead her thighs.
“Yeah, I like the idea of fucking you in the kitchen.” I can see in her eyes how much it excites her. I can also feel it by how she starts rubbing against me. “But right now, I want you in my mouth because I love the way you taste.”
“Lauren.” My head drops back with a groan. “I am not going to survive you.”
“Try to last a few more weeks.” She kisses me slowly, thoroughly, before nipping at my jaw and down my neck, continuing the downwards trail of her mouth over my chest.
“No promises.” I flash a half-grin, lifting my hips so she can pull down my briefs. “But for you? I’ll try.”
* * *
Lauren
“Are you leaving?” Michael asks sleepily from the bed, peering at me through half-open eyes as I finish applying makeup at the vanity mirror. “After the way you used me all morning?”
“I’m meeting the girls for brunch.” I laugh, turning to look at him, stretched out naked on his stomach, looking every bit delectable.
“If you keep looking at me like that, you aren’t going anywhere any time soon, Rockstar.” His eyes are wide open now, his tawny gaze filling with heat.
“I have to go; Posey has finally been convinced to tag along.” I sigh and turn back to the mirror. “She’ll kill me if I’m not there, and I need her.”
“You still haven’t gotten your surprise.” Michael stands, stretching out with a twinkle in his eyes that tells me he’s fully aware of my gaze following his movements in the mirror, then grabs his briefs and bends to pull something from under the bed.
“I thought the sex was your backup plan.” I turn and inspect the parcel as he approaches. It’s a plain white shoebox, and my curiosity is piqued.
“Yeah, I may have let you keep thinking that because, well…” He trails off with a shrug, eyes full of teasing intent as he grins at me suggestively.
“Just give me my surprise,” I huff, and Michael hands me the box. I flip the lid open, gasping when I see a pair of chartreuse green satin heels by Christian Louboutin.
“Hattie told me those are your dream shoes.” He scrunches his nose. “I wanted to get you something special for the gala. A necklace or maybe earrings. I never thought shoes…” His frown deepens before he shrugs it off and continues. “Anyway, Hattie was adamant that this was the perfect gift.”
He looks at me expectantly as I run my fingers over the vibrant fabric.
“Itisperfect.” I place the shoes on the vanity and stand, looping my arms around Michael’s neck. “Thank you, Mikey.”