Page 51 of Lie With Me

“You’re welcome.” She turns to look at me and leans in for a kiss, but I dodge her lips and bite the giant piece of cookie in her hand. “Hey!” she cries out, playfully nudging me away.

“What?! We bought six flavors, and you’re not letting me have any!” I exclaim while chewing.

“What are you trying to say?”

“That you’re a greedy woman.” Lowering my hand between her legs, I relish the gasp she lets out as I run my fingers along her center over her leggings. “The least you can do is give me some type of dessert.”

“Ew, gross,” she says breathily, pushing my hand away. “I’m all sweaty. There’s absolutely no way we’re being intimate while I’m on my periodanda sweaty mess.”

I don’t know what prompts me to do it, but I lean in and lick the side of her face. “I like the way your sweat tastes.”

And god, do I fucking mean it.

Something about the act itself has my cock hardening, and with the look she gives me, I’ll bet anything she’s fucking soaked right now.

“Did you…did you justlickme?”

Crowding her against the door, I bury my face in her neck and gently bite at her skin. “Mmhmm.”

She drops the bag on the floor and lets out a small moan as she turns so one leg stretches out on the seat behind me and the other presses against my side.

Our lips collide as her hands pull at my jacket, removing it so she can run her hands beneath my sweater. Her fingers are cold as they dance along my flesh, kneading their way down my chest and around my sides to grip my ass and pull me into her.Tugging her farther down so she’s laying on the seat, I move to my knees on the floor.

“What are you doing?” she asks as I reach for the band of her leggings, her hands threading in my hair as I lean in to kiss her.

My fingers find their way between her legs, and I push past the band of her underwear to rub her swollen bud. I begin to kiss my way down her throat, pulling her sweater and tank top up to suck a nipple into my mouth through the thin lace of her bra as her hips roll against my hand.

“Tripp, what are you doing?” she asks again on a breath, but her tone has no sign of wanting me to stop.

“I licked it,” I say against her stomach, dipping my tongue into her belly button as I stop stroking her to pull her pants over the curve of her ass. She moans loudly, shoving her fist against her mouth even though the partition is up and the driver can’t hear her. “That means it’s mine,” I tell her just before I close my mouth over her clit and begin to suck.

Lenni

Thursday finds me at Caffe Napoli, seated across from Margo.

Surprisingly, she’s warm when she greets me—not even putting up a fight when I asked her to meet me in Little Italy because I had a craving for an authentic cannoli—and I even made a point to show up ten minutes late again.

“You know, I think it would be nice if you both started coming out for dinner weekly. How do you feel about living in the city? Have you spoken about where you’ll raise your family? I always assumed Tripp would move to Connecticut when he settled down—make the commute like Weylan does.” For someone who wanted us to wait on getting married, she sure seems to be rushing everything else.

“Honestly, we haven’t spoken about it. Tripp didn’t realize I can’t have kids until dinner the other night. He hasn’t pushed me on it since. Your son isrespectful that way.” I raise a brow at her, a light warning lacing my tone.

Margo’s features soften, as if she forgot about my little outburst on Sunday. “Do you mind if I ask what happened? Is it natural or something else? We know a plethora of fertility doctors. We struggled to have Tripp ourselves.”

I’d be upset she’s forcing this conversation if it wasn’t for her admission. Letting me know that she struggled to conceive Tripp is huge. That’s a piece of information women like Margo don’t just go handing out.

Which means she might just be trying to make a genuine connection with me. And even though the goal is to make no such connections, I relent.

With a long sigh, I sip my water before telling her, “There was an accident when I was younger. I got sick while I was healing. The doctors said it would be highly unlikely for me to be able to carry a child.”

She reads my vagueness for what it is and doesn’t continue pushing. Instead, she nods and tries to disguise the pity in her eyes. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that. When you and Tripp are ready, I’d be more than happy to help set up appointments, whether with a fertility doctor or an adoption agency.”

“Ready to be a grandma? You’re so young. Surely you don’t want that title already?”

“There’s only so many association meetings and luncheons a socialite can stand before it all starts to get boring. Weylan has his golf when he’s not working, and we spent years traveling after Tripp went tocollege. I’m ready for a houseful of grandchildren I can spoil. Family means a lot to me. And Tripp spends more time by himself than he does with us. After all, I would have never thought I’d have to hear about him being engaged from his ex-fiancée’s family. And what ofyourfamily? How did they take the news?”

Ignoring her inquiry about my family, I simply say, “Ahh. Emily. Honestly, I’m not sure why she thought it was her business to tell anyone.”

Our server shows up with our meals, placing them in front of us and shaving fresh parmesan on top of my porcini ravioli. As soon as he walks away, Margo says, “Well, she cares for him deeply still. I think it just took her by surprise as well, seeing as how no one knew about the two of you.”

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