Page 57 of Desperate Measures

Michaela was all around me.

I needed to keep her with me.

To make her part of me.

To take her deep into the pit of my soul and lock her in.

“Fuck. Tell me you’re mine,” I growled, squeezing her cheeks.

Her eyes were half-closed, her mouth agape, and she nodded, but it wasn’t enough.

“Fucking tell me!” I demanded, rutting into her like the beast I was.

“Yours! Husband, I’m yours,” she said, and then she started to come.

“Yeah, you are, Sweetheart. Fucking mine,” I growled as I pumped one last time, emptying my balls into her wet warmth.

“Mine.”

Chapter 21-Michaela

“When you said you moved office, I didn’t know you had a whole fucking ODI building, Liam,” I whispered as we rode the elevator up to the top floor of the ritzy new structure in downtown Jersey City.

“You didn’t ask,” he replied, and shrugged.

He was watching me with a smirk on his handsome face, and I wanted to kick him. He wore a suit as usual. This one was navy blue with a lighter blue shirt beneath it. It looked fantastic on him, of course.

His hair was combed back, and his beard was trimmed to perfection. Liam was just so damn handsome. Sometimes I lost track of time just staring at him. He didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he never said anything, which was considerate of him.

But I imagined my husband was used to females gawking at him.

Anyway, I’d opted for a slightly less formal look. I had on an ankle length tweed skirt with an ivory blouse tucked into the high waistband, the top two buttons open.

I liked neutral tones. They went well with my coloring. I hardly wore skirts, but I liked this one, especially in the fall.

Typically, I reserved color for accents, like my bag and shoes, which today were a deep purple.

They matched the cross front wrap I wore in lieu of a coat.

Still, I felt underdressed and worried whether I should have gone with one of my suits.

“Why are you fidgeting, Sweetheart? You’re not nervous,” he scoffed like he couldn’t believe it.

But maybe that was because this was easy for him. He was a man.

Tall, handsome, with an innate aura that bespoke of his intelligence and authority.

Liam commanded attention when he walked into the room, and I sincerely doubted anyone ever questioned his right to be there.

I, on the other hand, was a woman, so right off the bat I had to deal with bullshit misogynists.

Plus, I carried too much weight around the middle, which some thought meant I was dumb or lazy.

Whatever.

Last, I was my father’s daughter. Throughout my whole life, people had expected less of me because they assumed whatever I wanted was handed to me all because of my last name.

Speaking of which.