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She begins to sputter and then a bizarre, choked cry comes from her throat.

“But Peter – ” she manages between some weird-sounding coughs. Alarmed, I give her a good thump or two on the back.

“You okay, sweetheart?” are my concerned words. “Oh shit. I hope you’re not dying or anything. Oh shit. Do I need to call 9-1-1?”

She shakes her head, holding a finger up even as the coughing begins to subside. There are tears in her eyes, and I want to kill myself for making her cry. Oh shit. I’m such a fucking bastard.

But then a choked laugh interrupts my panic, and I realize that she’s not crying. She’s half-laughing, half-crying, and that’s the source of these weird choking sounds.

“What is it?” I say. “What the hell is going on?”

“Peter,” she manages between wheezy gasps. “I love you too. I only came back for my cat. I wanted to say hello to Henry, and make sure he’s okay. You know, he only recovered from cat cancer last year, and I had to be sure he was healthy and happy. I was never going to leave you permanently.”

I stare at my beautiful girl with my mouth hanging open. Gemma risked life and limb for a cat? This whole thing had nothing to do with me? She smiles sweetly then, while slinging her arms around my neck.

“Of course this has to do with you,” she says, reading my mind. “I love you Peter Carmichael, but there’s more to life than hot sex 24/7. There’s more to life than hanging out and getting my hair done every day. I have a life, Peter, and I have to live it. I’m hoping with you,” she says, brushing her lips over mine.

I breathe in deeply, letting my eyes close for a second. But then they snap open, and I take in the curvy brunette, letting my gaze run over every inch of her form.

“You’ll have it,” I vow. “Whatever you want, sweetheart, I’ll make it happen. You want to live up here, in this apartment? We’ll make it happen. You want to go to college? That’s fine by me because I love you Gemma, and I can’t let you go. Wherever you go, I go too,” I vow fiercely, crushing that soft form to mine.

She brushes her lips delicately over my earlobe, and the sensuality makes my body harden immediately. But then she leans back and shoots me that sassy smile I love so much.

“Wherever we live, can I take Henry?” she asks sweetly. “You did say “whatever I want,” right?”

I groan again before claiming her mouth with mine and ravenously plundering what belongs to me. Because I’ve realized what matters and what doesn’t. It doesn’t make sense to keep someone locked up in a hideout, even if it’s the most glamorous club ever. It pays to listen to what she wants, and to respond to what she says. And it doesn’t matter if I’m forty and this is all new to me. That’s just a lame excuse. My old habits of staying mum and letting the woman spin in circles almost did me in, and now, I know what I want. My woman, my heart, my desire are all here in Gemma Kane … and it’s time to claim my virgin for keeps.

Epilogue

Gemma

I shake my bottom a little bit, making sure the ruffled hem of my skirt flies up, giving my man a glimpse of my gleaming pink parts.

“Is this what you want, big boy?” I coo, throwing Peter a coy glance over one shoulder, wiggling my hips again. “You see something you like?”

Judging from the giant, stiff rod in his pants, Mr. Carmichael more than likes what he sees. He loves what he sees.

“You better be quiet,” he growls, leaning forward to press his lips to my wet pussy. I let out a hiss, my eyes closing. “There are other people at the bar, sweetheart. They can see and hear us.”

My lashes flutter open, and it’s true. We’re in a private booth at the bar of the Billionaires Club. There are various plants that block the view of me and my man getting down, but if you look closely through the leaves and palm fronds, you can see what we’re doing. We’re having dirty sex in public, and to make it even more fun, I’ve put on my original waitress outfit to tease my man.

“Ooooh,” I moan as his tongue licks up my slit before pushing into my wetly creaming hole. “Yeah, just like that.”

A low chuckle sounds out from Mr. Carmichael, and he gently nips my clit, making me squeal and jolt.

“Sweetheart, you come when I tell you to,” he reminds me. “Otherwise I’m not going to help you with your homework,”

I gasp again, bumping my hips back against his face in order to get that tongue in me again. But at the same time, I do need help with my homework because after declaring our love for one another, the first thing we did was get on-line and sign me up for classes at a local community college.

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