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Her attempt at humor obviously falling flat, she crossed her arms, allowing her annoyance to show. What was his freaking deal? Was he a furniture snowflake? Did his flashy ex-wife get all up in his face about the cost of their living room set?
“What’s your problem?” she snapped, moving to pull her feet from Sly’s lap.
Immediately, he reached down and took her foot into his grasp. His talented, long-fingered, pin-dropping magic hands began massaging her aching arches.
She groaned, her annoyance fleeing on wings of pure pleasure. “Fuck, Sly…” she moaned. “Keep doing that.”
His baritone voice laced with regret, he said, “Sorry, baby. I just get into my own head sometimes, and it can come across as—”
“You being an asshole?” she supplied, with a crooked grin, trying not to let the endearment turn her insides into goo. “Yeah, I can see that. I lived that at your little shindig.”
Sly chuckled, an edge of chagrin in his expression. “Yeah, that’s another thing I need to apologize for.
“Go on…,” she helpfully prodded with a tilt of her head.
Heaving a sigh, he admitted, “I was an asshole. I had just been thinking about you, thinking about Loni and the divorce, and my head and my mood weren’t the best.”
Sally snorted, rolling her eyes.
Narrowing his eyes at her, he continued, “So when I saw you, my first thoughts weren’t pleasant ones. I figured you found out who I was, wanted to hit me up for a repeat—with monetary benefits, and that made me livid. All I could think was, ‘how dare she ruin what we had that night?’”
“You did that well enough all by yourself—”
Sly gripped her ankle in with his long, thick, calloused fingers and squeezed. “Will you let me get this all out, please?”
Sally, suddenly wondering if her ankle was a zip line to her pussy, huffed then nodded, swallowing against the rising heat in her legs.
“When I confronted you, I was angry—at you and at myself for thinking I had been duped by a gold-digger. It wasn’t until AJ introduced us that I realized my error. And….”
He sucked in a deep breath, reached out, and cupped her face in his hand, holding her gaze with his brilliant jade eyes. “I am so fucking sorry I said those things to you, Sally. I am sorry that I even thought those things about you. Will you forgive me?”
The fear, worry, and sincerity in his open expression made her belly flip. He was telling the truth—he was an asshole. But he was also genuinely regretful about what went down.
“Honestly, I haven’t thought much about that night. I’d gone there knowing I would probably see you, and I’d prepared myself for the worst. And, boy, did you provide. But…I’m not mad about it. You were an ass, you assumed wrong, you said some shit, and now you’ve apologized. I know all about false assumptions and the chaos they can cause….”
Like how I assumed I was safe in my own home. That Mama was safe since Father was traveling South America with his mistress…. Her assumptions had never been more wrong. And her mother had paid the price.
She shook off those thoughts and pushed through. “I just hope that, from now on, you stop and think before you speak. It’ll save you an ass-whoopin’ in the future.”
Having changed into loose cotton sleep pants and a faded t-shirt featuring little blue people and their village, it didn’t take much for Sylvester to use those same magic hands on her calves, too. Long moments passed as he slowly, expertly massaged her tired muscles…and stoked the fire in her blood that beat and blazed along her nerve endings, straight to her core.
She groaned again, the sound from deep in her chest.
“You keep doing that, and you’ll turn me into PlayDoh,” she murmured, her voice husky, her breathing labored. From the wicked smirk on his face, the man knew what he was doing. “But, of course, you know that.”
He snickered darkly, his hands continuing their upward movement until his hands were at her knees, the house pants pushed up to her thighs.
“What I know is that it’s been too long since I’ve kissed my woman, and I think my woman needs to remedy that.” He continued massaging her heated flesh, his fingers digging in, leaving fire and need in their wake.
“Then your woman needs to get here because I’m not doing it,” she joked, loving that he called her his woman.
Sly growled. “Get over here, woman, and give me your mouth.”
“Just my mouth,” she teased, leaning in to brush her lips against his.
His breath left his chest on a rumble. “I want it all, Sally. I want you.”
