Page 137 of Unhinged

I can’t stop more tears. “I don’t want to downplay what happened to you.”

“Then don’t downplay what happened to you.” Greg uses his thumbs to dry my tears. “Tomorrow, you’ll take the day off, and we’ll file a police report.”

“I don’t know if I want to. Just make sure he’s not allowed to come back to the bar.”

“I can guarantee you he won’t be coming back.” Greg shakes his head. “I want that fucker to pay for what he did to you.”

Pulling away from Greg, I look up at his set jaw. “I don’t want you fighting my battles.”

“They’re our battles. What did Cynthia say to you today?”

“She told Elijah I was a bigger whore than she thought. Elijah hates me. She said I’m only waiting for my next victim.”

He mutters something under his breath, but I don’t feel like arguing anymore.

I sigh. “I need to tell your mom I won’t be in tomorrow.”

“She knows something happened to you.”

Thinking of what his mother and Amos said about how Greg feels about me, I ask, “Why did you really get here so fast?”

“Amos said someone hurt you. I needed to see if you were okay before I take names and kick asses.”

“You’d really do that for me?”

“Even if you don’t want me to.” Speeding gravy boats.

Stunned, I mutter, “Well, I’m stuck with this ugly black eye. Even baby Jesus would cry.”

Greg leans in to gently kiss my bruised temple and then pulls back to look at me. His thumb traces my bottom lip while his brown eyes smolder. “Simone, I’ve never been more attracted to a woman like I am to you. That’s the truth. You are so beautiful. Inside and out. No matter what you look like.” I’m officially dead.

As he drops his hand from my lip, I grab it. “Greg, that’s the sweetest thing any man has ever said to me. I love your sexy, smart mouth that keeps going.” I close my eyes before confessing, “I’ve had a crush on you since Baltimore.” When I open them, I see his eyes widen, and he stops breathing, I swear. Dropping to a whisper, I confess, “I haven’t been with anyone else since I met you because I… You make me feel things.”

His responding smile is cautious as he admits, “My crush on you started in Baltimore too. I dug your sassy mouth because you never put up with my shit. But I… It’s…. I’ve met my match.” Pained or embarrassed, Greg looks away from me. I don’t want him to feel pressured to say anything. I don’t know how to say what I want to say, either. Everyone called him Rod, but I knew he was too good for a name like that. Now, my favorite name for Greg is my husband.

Using my borrowed audacity from my brother, I clutch Greg’s neck and pull him to my lips to shut us up. I slide my hands into his shaggier hair and push my tongue into his mouth, which he licks my tongue and then sucks on it. Fuck, he’s so good at everything. He needs nothing from me.

And I hate that.

I move to his ear and whisper, “Did you like my picture?”

I hear his hollow laugh through his chest. “Fuck, yes.”

I kiss his throat. “Did you use it to jerk off?”

His throat ripples underneath my lips, and he whispers, “Fuck, yes.”

Tingles burst throughout my body. I slide my hand over his leg, stopping near his balls. I feel the tension in his jeans. “I want the play-by-play.”

He licks his lip. “When you sent me the pic, I took off my jeans and underwear and laid down on my bed, right where we fucked. I could still smell your body in my T-shirt and on the blanket.” I inhale as he sucks in a slow breath. Greg picks up my hand on his thigh, and holding it, we rub his cock through his jeans. “I grabbed my aching hard-on.”

I go to his jeans fly, and his breaths quicken. “Damn, swizzle stick. I wish I could’ve been there.”

“You were. I had your pussy in my hand, your scent around me, your face in my head, and your name on my tongue.”

“I want to watch you.” I tug down his jeans, and he lifts to shove them to his knees. I take his hand and wrap it around his dick. He strokes, and I let go of his hand as I watch him. He stops to spit on his hand and then resumes.

Watching him, I unbutton my pajama top. Greg pants when I expose my tits. I plead, “Get rid of his touch.”

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