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She slipped her hand into his collar, fumbling with his shirt until she found his shoulder blades and scratched her fingernails on them. In retaliation, he increased the rhythm, each time plunging into her with deeper, harder thrusts. His heart thrummed in his chest, but he didn’t let up. With a growl, he continued the maddening, erotic dance, impaling her, claiming her like the very air he breathed. Oh yes.
With every thrust, a piece of his soul left his body and entered hers, like an unstoppable force. He crushed his lips on hers, desperately craving every part of her. She opened her mouth, and when their tongues meshed, it was like a giant ocean wave slapping against the shore. His entire body tingled, trembled and roared in devastating need.
She clenched her inner muscles around his cock and wrenched her mouth from his for a stolen, shaky breath. Then, he realized she quivered, and stared at him with the undeniable glint in her dilated pupils. A flush stained her cheeks and neck, and she moaned, repeatedly, letting pleasure ride her body.
Seeing her come undone only added to the pressure in his core. Aroused beyond belief, he withdrew almost all the way to plunge into her one more time. His balls contracted for an instant, then he let himself go and cried out her name, again and again, as pleasure rode him like a tornado and left him extraordinarily spent.
“I don’t think I can move, but I should try,” she said a few seconds later.
He chuckled against her hair, still connected to her, his fluid still emptying into her sex. Groaning, he slipped out of her and pulled up his briefs and jeans. He helped her to her feet, and with a nervous chuckle, she smoothed her hand over her dress.
“You okay?” he asked, sucking in a breath. Had he been too rough? He hated how unsure and weak she made him feel.
She chewed her bottom lip, then inched closer. “I love—” she started, then straightened her shoulders and angled her head to the side. “I loved it.” A bright smile formed on her lips.
Relief loosened his shoulders. Good. “We should head inside and shower.”
She grabbed her purse from the outdoor table and fished out her phone. “Yes, we should. Let me check my messages to make sure everything is good with the boys and all.”
He nodded, loving how worried she was about her kids even when they were safe and sound with Luke. Would his mother be like this if she had overcome Keith’s death? After Keith had died, she hadn’t been mean to him—his sweet mother wouldn’t know how. But before she took her own life, she treated him with a degree of distance. She was there, helping him with homework, but not really present.
The smile on Nikki’s face died. She scrolled through messages quickly, frowning.
Acid spilled into his stomach. Had something happened with her boys? He’d come to care for those two and would hate himself if they got hurt when he had whisked her away for the weekend. “What’s wrong?” he asked, erasing the distance between them.
She sat the phone on the table, then tucked a strand a hair behind her ear. “I can’t believe this… Violet left her husband and kids.”
* * *
“Are you good with Fridays?” Brit asked, checking off a task from her iPad.
Nikki slowly nodded. Guilt clogged her throat. She’d driven back to Tulip as soon as she heard about the news. How could Violet take off without telling any of them? Now, two days after the fact, it still hadn’t sunk in. Apparently, Violet had left Damian a note and taken off while he and the kids slept.
“Yes,” Nikki said.
“I can help on Saturdays,” Lara said.
Brit checked another box off her digital list. “Thanks. Damian is off on Saturdays but sometimes he has emergency surgery.”
“Like some high-rolling patient who needs a nip-tuck overnight?” Lara snickered.
Brit tilted her head to the side, glaring at her friend. Ever since they met in Nikki’s kitchen to go over chores and how they could help the kids while he looked for a full-time nanny, tension had filled the room. Maybe it’s just me.
Sweat slicked her forehead. “Have you read the note she left?” Nikki asked.
Lara nodded. “He took a screenshot and sent it to us.”
“Are we sure she’s okay?” Nikki asked. “What if her husband did something to her?” She never believed Damian to be violent, but what if there was more than met the eye—she clapped her hand to her mouth. What if—
“The note seemed like her handwriting, but I’m not an expert,” Lara said.
“She could have done it under duress,” Nikki said, doubting her own words. Blaming Damian for whatever triggered Violet to go away didn’t help. When they’d talked, Violet had assured her he’d agreed to a separation. I should have pushed more. Damn, the irony. Nikki was known for her overbearing nature, yet it did no good when really needed.
“Well, no shit. If she felt like she had to leave her family and friends in the middle of the night, of course she was under duress,” Lara said.
“Ladies, please.” Brit lifted her hand. “Let’s leave the bitchfest for another time.”
Lara shrugged. “Sorry. First Noelle, then this—”
