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“Sunday, as in singing at Hidden?”
I smirk and my eyes move over to my queen. She stares ahead, her cheeks blossoming a deeper shade of red. But beneath the shyness, something else swells and tries to break free. I can scent it, almost, her need not to live trapped within shyness and self-consciousness.
“Maybe,” she says.
“Whoah, okay, maybe,” Kayley says, nodding. “That’s a big difference from no way. So I’ll take it. Yeah. Maybe. And you really don’t mind me abandoning you tonight?”
“No,” Lola murmurs. “I’ve got plenty to keep me busy.”
My cock twitches and I have to stare down at my steak to stop myself from gazing at her.
This is wrong. We need to tell Kayley. I don’t trust myself to be alone all night with my woman and not try anything.
I’ve only known her a day, and yet it feels like a lifetime.
My life will always be divided into two epochs now.
Before I met Lola, and after I met her.
I walk the grounds with Hunter after dinner, not trusting myself to be in the house when Kayley’s still here. I know it makes me a twisted, animalistic bastard, but everything inside of me pulses in need for my woman.
Hunter lopes ahead of me, a barely visible silhouette in the darkness of the night, slinking like a shadow.
I take in deep breaths, filling my lungs with icy air.
Things have become so intense so quickly, I half expect to receive some sort of vision or message. I imagine a horned, savage-looking Cupid climbing from the snow-covered dirt. Grinning up at me, the gargoyle will say, “This is what you’ve been waiting for your whole life, Liam. A woman to love, to cherish, to protect. Isn’t Valentine’s the perfect time to fall in love?”
He’d be right. I’ve never had anything like this before.
I never dreamed I could want somebody the way I want Lola.
The way I need her.
I stroll back toward the house, sitting on the balcony, Hunter lying down at my feet.
A few minutes later, the door opens behind me.
“Dad?” Kayley says, wandering onto the balcony.
I turn to my daughter, shrouded in her winter coat, making her look smaller and younger than she is. It makes her look like a ten year old again, her smile always bright and curious, her eyes always watchful.
“Yeah?”
“I’m going now. I should be back late tonight, but I might stay at Ryan’s. If you’re cool with that?”
I smirk. “I raised you well, Kayley. You still ask for permission. Of course, it’s okay. You’re a woman now.”
“And maybe … maybe see if Lola wants to watch TV or something? I feel so bad for leaving her.”
I bite down, intense need flaring through me.
What the hell am I supposed to say when Kayley is asking me to spend time with Lola?
But then Kayley doesn’t know how I feel, how hungrily I ache for her best friend.
I almost blurt it right now, but I can’t do that without Lola’s blessing. Terror touches me whenever I think about pushing my woman away.
“Okay,” I say. “Have fun at the play.”
Kayley smiles and leans down, ruffling Hunter under the chin. She walks back into the house, her footsteps getting quieter and quieter until it’s just me and the wind again. Hunter whines softly and looks up at me, his eyes like swirling liquid in the dark of the night.
“I know, boy,” I sigh, reaching down to scratch his scruff. “This is a mess, isn’t it?”
I sit for a while longer, but then the need to see her grows too strong within me. It’s like a drumbeat that slowly gets heavier and more intense until my whole body becomes the beat, the reverberations moving through me with so much power I can’t ignore it.
I stand up and stalk through the house. Hunter grows bored and lopes away, taking himself to his bedroom. Or maybe it isn’t boredom. Maybe it’s just that he knows how badly I need to be alone when I see her.
I walk to her bedroom door and pause outside, listening.
“And he took all the blame,” she sings softly, just loud enough for me to hear. “He drove me insane, but again and again, he pretends he can be tamed. I cried and I raged … Hello?”
“It’s me,” I tell her, pushing the door open.
“Wait. I’m—”
I pause, staring as my mouth floods with saliva, as though some primal part of me is telling me to get ready for a feast.
Lola stands with her bathrobe undone, her hands at the tie. The open slit shows her breasts and her pussy and her thighs, her hair all tousled and messy and wet around her shoulders. Her body glistens lightly, still wet from the shower.
Quickly, she ties her robe, hiding her body beneath the supple red robe.
“Jesus Christ,” I snarl. “Are you trying to drive me insane?”
