Page 55 of Boarded Hearts

“Not what?”

I shift in my seat, trying to get myself comfortable with an ever-hardening dick. “Hold your mouth like that.”

She drops her head down, her shoulders shaking with laughter. “Aw, does it make you uncomfortable?”

“You could say that.”

And then she does something I really, really wasn’t expecting. Placing her left hand on my inner thigh, she slowly runs her palm up from my knee to my groin, her fingers dancing and teasing as she makes her ascent.

“Fuck.” I throw my head back into my seat, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. “You’re gonna make me crash, Angel.”

“So, it’s Angel now? Is that my bad girl name?”

A low growl escapes my chest. “Don’t push me, not unless you’re prepared.”

That’s met with an evil chuckle, but she takes mercy on me, stilling her hand mid-thigh.

Trying to gather myself and regain some control behind the wheel on a freeway. “You haven’t answered my question.”

It’s as if the playful, flirty, steamy Felicity leaves the car. Taking her hand back, she twists her fingers together on her lap, dropping her head so her hair falls in front of her face.“Heading home for a few days and coming back New Year’s Day.”

I sort of expected her to say that. Why wouldn’t she be going home to see Darcy and her family? “Okay,” I say, drawing the word out to indicate my confusion at her sudden shift in mood.

“I’m desperate to see Darcy. Jack’s coming home with me too. We fly out on Christmas Eve.”

Then it hits me. The potential source of her discomfort.“Where will you be staying?”

She pales slightly, turning her face to catch my straining jaw.

“Where are you staying, Felicity?” I bite out, more of a demand than a question at this point but I’m far from anything but concerned for the woman I care so deeply about.

“In Oxford.”

“Where in Oxford?”

Her voice is barely audible, “My old house.”

My stomach falls through the floor as both anger and, I’m not ashamed to admit, jealousy coarse through me. “With him?”

Growing defensive, she replies. “Well, yes. It’s what Darcy wants, for us to be together on Christmas morning, and I put my children first.”

When I was eighteen, I was more interested in going out, playing hockey, and spending time with friends. “Has Darcy specifically told you that? Won’t she be with Liam most of the time?”

“Well, no. Sort of. Elliott’s been texting me, telling me I owe it to the kids to give them the Christmas they deserve.”

Emotionally manipulative bastard.

I’m desperate for her to see what Elliott’s game is. “So, stay somewhere else and go see them in the morning. You can’t stay in that house. With him. I see you, baby. I’ve seen what he does to your confidence, the way he speaks to you. Can’t you see what he’s doing even now? He’s got you like a puppet on a string. Using your children to manipulate you. Christ, he told you he wants you back. Can’t you see?”

Sitting on her hands to prevent the nervous fidgets I’ve just made her aware of, she shakes her head. “I’ve nowhere else to stay.”

“Friends?”

“Haven’t got any back there. They were all affiliated with our marriage.”

Jesus, he’s a fucking narcissist, cutting her off from all connections. “Then stay with your mom and dad.” He can’t possibly have turned them against her too.

“Can’t,” is all I get back in a clipped and defeated tone.

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