Page 211 of This Woman Forever
“Good,” she says, her eyes falling to my mouth. She’s read my mind. I wet my lips, skating my eyes over her face. Fuck, after the day I’ve had, all I can think about is getting inside her and finding some peace and clarity.
“How did this happen?” she whispers, her eyes alive.
“Because, my beautiful girl,” I say quietly, my heart throbbing, along with my dick, “we’re meant to be stuck together. Constant contact. Kiss me.”
“I’ve accepted that you’re an arsehole, so there’s no need to try and get me submitting to your touch now.”
I smile secretly. “I missed you, baby.”
She takes the quickest route to me, and that’s over my desk. Fine by me. I help her, feeling at home with every one of her limbs wrapped around me, her lips on mine, kissing me hard. It’s a familiar kiss. It’s the same kiss she gave me on the night of the anniversary party after she’d overheard some ladies of The Manor discussing my bedroom skills. Possessive. Ownership. My wife’s giving me a run for my money these days. “I wish you were pure and untouched,” she whispers, sadness tinging the words, her mouth relentless.
I lower to the chair, breaking away from her attack with some effort. “I am.” I smile at her flushed cheeks, taking her hands, feeling her rings. “The most important part of me is untouched.” I put her palm on my chest and let it absorb the pounds. Life. “Or it was until you stepped into my office.” That day. I wish I could relive it. The instant shift in my chest, my eyes opening for what felt like the first time in years. “Now it’s being stamped all over and is exploding with pure love for you.” Only you, baby. Never doubt that.
She exhales, satisfied, watching her hand stroke my chest. “I like feeling it beating,” she whispers, wistful. Her head is soon on my chest, and I smile down at her. “I like hearing it too.”
I relax, content with her close, but a little uncomfortable in the groin area. “How was your day?” I ask.
“Crap,” she answers quickly. “I want Paradise.”
That’s sweet. “I’m in Paradise whenever I’m with you,” I say, stroking her hair, kissing it, over and over. “I don’t need a villa.” Just peace.
“You were more relaxed in Paradise.”
“I’m relaxed now.”
“Yes, that is because I’m sitting on your lap, coated in you,” she quips. She’s right. But I still poke her tickle spot, and she laughs, breaking out of my hold, grinning at me as she turns herself around on my lap. And once again, I’m amazed by her grace. I should have told her who was involved during that four-day absence. There are many things I should have done. And shouldn’t have.
“How was your day?” she asks, leaning back so I can settle my face close to hers.
“Long.” I won’t bore her—or worry her—with the never-ending details. I need to figure out how I handle the coming days while Cook investigates. I also need to have a word with Van Der Haus. “How are my peanuts?”
“Fine.”
Good. Let’s get her home so I can share my new office feature wall and then fix the persistent problem behind my trousers. I engage to lift us from the chair. “Why’s my brother’s name written down there?”
I freeze, every muscle tensing. Shit. I see her reach for the pad on my desk, and out of impulse—and stupidity—I snatch it away, stuffing it in the drawer and slamming it shut. Shit, shit, shit. “Daniel Joseph O’Shea?” she asks. “Why have you got Dan’s bank account number written down?”
“I haven’t.” Idiot.
Ava quickly stands, drilling accusing holes into me. “I’m giving you three seconds, Ward.”
“The countdown is mine,” I snap, at a loss.
“Three.” She holds up her middle fingers in front of me. What, does she think I can’t count? “Two,” she says, dropping one finger, confirming it. I mentally roll my eyes. For fuck’s sake. “You’re giving him money,” she gasps, her hand dropping.
Fuck. “No.” Bollocks, why the hell did I leave that pad right there for her to see?
“You’re a shit liar too, Ward,” Ava hisses, bolting, catching me on the back foot.
“Ava!” I yell, scrambling up and running round my desk. “Ava, wait.” I make it to the corridor and see her disappear through the summer room, her hair wafting as she runs full pelt. “Jesus,” I breathe, going after her, hoping John’s got Dan in that taxi already. I pull out my phone to text her brother—just to give him the heads-up, because she will call him—but I’m too late. Dan’s still in the hallway, looking around.
Interested.
Fuck.
I lift Ava from her feet and turn her to face me, needing her to see my aggravation. “For fuck’s sake, woman, you’ll give the babies brain damage. No running.”
“Get a grip,” she snaps, fighting me off.