Page 144 of His Big Bad Stick

I have words lingering on my tongue but I’m not ready to speak to them.

This is about honesty. About truth.

“You showed up, covered in blood, and changed the course of my life, Abrielle,” I say. “Do you want me to act like that never happened?”

“Wow,” she whispers. “You still have a way of fucking up my heart, don’t you?”

I touch her face. “Remember one thing, kitten. You’re still in my bed. I can’t take my hands off you. Need I say more?”

“Yes, Colver. Yes. There’s plenty more you can say.”

I still don’t speak.

I press my lips to hers.

Gently, I use my tongue to part her lips for an even better kiss.

My right hand eases between her legs, hooking against her warm, wide awake clit.

Abrielle purrs into my mouth.

I circle around her clit a few more times.

Then I move on top of her.

I nestle between her legs and feel her snug cunt welcome me.

I’m hard. She’s soaked.

And with one full thrust, I’m buried inside her body.

Whether Abrielle likes it or not, this is all I can give her for right now.

33

Abrielle

The gallery is almost done.

Paintings are being hung up now. The lighting is perfect.

The floor looks great too. I had been worried a little that it was too boring but one of Jess’s friend’s husband owns a flooring company and he came in with some ideas on how to scuff it up to make it look cool.

I don’t know.

It’s almost too good to be true right now.

The gallery. The pregnancy. Colver.

Living in a somewhat parallel life with him taught us both that words don’t mean a thing. I watched my mother fall in love three times a week. Saying it. Getting gifts. Getting married. All for nothing. All just a joke.

Same for Colver’s father.

He’d set his eyes on a woman and he would have to have her.

Then he’d get her, get bored, and he’d cheat.

In other words… Colver being present…

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