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“I’ve always been pale.”
“Yes, but I’m in the mood to do things to you that might leave marks.” Michael grinned wolfishly. “Not what I can put on my residency application.”
“They’ll wonder what we did already.”
Michael said. “You think they’ll ask? ‘Harper, you smell like you ate your wife out.’ ‘Yes, I did. I made sweet, sweet sanctified by state and Church love to my wife with my mouth. And as soon as I escape this fucking party, I’m going to do it again with my cock. Because that, kids, is what a functional relationship looks like. Take notes.’”
“Stella might ask, though it seems Alex is civilizing her remarkably,” Angela decided.
“Besides, you can scoff and say ‘nope, we didn’t have sex. I have some restraint.’” He came forward to kiss her lips, and his hands lingered on her bare chest, playing with her breasts and teasing her nipples until she moaned.
Despite his stated intentions, Michael pushed her back on the bed, sucking on one of her pebbled tips.
“Michael!” she hissed, twisting her fingers in his hair, unsure if she wanted him to continue or stop.
“Sorry, got carried away,” Michael breathed heavily. “Kandal’d better have finished your dress, because the sooner I get some clothes on you, the sooner I can get you home and out of them.”
“Twice in one day?” Angela laughed and found her missing bra for the second time in less than four hours.
“Why stop at twice?” he teased her back.
Chapter 17
Eliza lay her head against the nearby wall, wishing she wasn’t hearing those gasps of pleasure.
She wasn’t mad at Angela or Michael for doing what newlyweds do, especially if left alone and nearly naked. It certainly was more action than Kayla’s room had gotten lately.
On another subject, Daniel Steadman remained quite the unstable powder keg. Kayla had endured his dinner rant, hiding her increasing mortification.
It still wasn’t enough. Eliza needed an explosion. A detonation and rain of body parts everywhere could finally convince Kayla once and for all that Steadman needed to go. He had to burn every damn bridge to get out of her house.
He had plenty of money; he could buy his own companionship, and Eliza didn’t mean a hooker. There was an entire world of women out there who would be happy to be on his arm, getting showered with gifts. As long as it wasn’t her sister, he could do whatever the hell he wanted.
She gritted her teeth. They’d come this far. Hopefully with the correct application of force, the game would end.
And with that thought, a great idea came to her, and Eliza carefully tore Angela’s dress down the recently repaired seam.
“Can I come in?” Eliza asked.
“Hang on.” It was Michael’s voice.
The door opened, and he let Eliza in. The room had the distinct scent of their lovemaking, though Angela didn’t seem rumpled enough under the covers for it to have been the real deal.
Eliza mentally gave points to Michael for his sexual creativity, because Angela was a healthy pink instead of the flaming red she’d been earlier. Nothing calmed a woman down like a good orgasm or two.
“Bad news. It can’t be saved.” She displayed the pink garment.
Angela’s face fell, and Michael rubbed her hand. “We can get a robe or a T-shirt or something.”
“Nonsense. This is my sister’s closet, and there is plenty of clothing we can make work here,” Eliza said.
“Oh,” Michael said. “Do you need my help?”
“Nah, I’ve got it. Why don’t you go downstairs and join the awkward small talk? It never hurts to make friends with attendings before residency interviews.”
Angela and Michael exchanged quite an interesting glance over her comment. Trouble in newlywed paradise over his upcoming residency applications?
Hmm, interesting.
