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Why I drop the iPad onto the dresser. Why I snag her arm and draw her flush against me.
And maybe it’s why I drop my mouth to hers and kiss her with every bit of emotion that’s in my heart, my soul—frustration and longing, anger and need, fear and love, yes fucking love. I take advantage of her gasp of surprise—or maybe outrage—to slip my tongue into her mouth, to taste her as deeply as I can.
I feel her gorgeous body start to melt against mine, but then she suddenly goes stiff, suddenly shoves hard at my chest. “What the fuck, Stefan?” she snaps when our mouths come apart.
A fair question.
It’s only that her next words throw me.
“You have a fucking girlfriend,” she growls. “Jesus Christ. What’s the matter with you?”
“I—” I shake my head. “A what?”
“A fucking?—”
“Mom!”
Her eyes go wide at the sound of Roxie’s voice, and she drops her arms, steps away from me, already moving for the hall.
“Stop,” I say, snagging her arm. “I’ve got her,” I say. “You should get in bed.”
She grabs my thumb and bends it back so quickly that I barely track the movement, and then all I’m doing is tracking the pain, the intense need to relieve the pressure shooting up my arm.
Before I can find a way to make that happen, she releases me, getting in my face. “You’ve done a lot to me over the years, Stefan Barie”—she jabs a finger into my chest—“and I know I’m not innocent either but, I swear to God, if you stand between me and my daughter, I will fucking end you.”
And then she’s gone, a flash of blond disappearing from my periphery.
And leaving me rocked to the very core.
Then again, that’s her superpower, isn’t it?
Twenty-Four
Brit
I know that he’s waiting for me.
I just…hope that he isn’t.
So, I take plenty of time to settle my little girl, take plenty of time to tuck her in and refill her water glass and make sure that she’s not in any pain.
Which she’s not, crazy kid of mine.
Recovering from surgery in no time, and I’m still feeling ouch over a couple of stitches and a strained muscle all these months later.
I shake my head to myself, continue reading the chapter even though she’s fully out and I’ll have to reread it tomorrow.
Buying time.
Delaying.
Pointless.
How about trying to get my lips to stop tingling and my pussy to stop being a needy fucking bitch?
Oh, and my heart to stop being so damned?—
Heart like.
