Page 182 of Rush of Jealousy

“The only thing I can do to keep you out of harm’s way,” Graham says, entering the room with a scowl on his face. He joins me on the couch and fixes a piece of hair behind my ear. A gentle kiss to my forehead doesn’t lessen the sting of the words I know I am about to hear. “And I’m doing it, Angie. So enjoy this time before it all comes crashing down.”

My eyes fill with tears over these cryptic hints at a big change that apparently I have no say in.Shocker.

We stay like this. Motionless. Just sitting here.

No one has anything to say. And no one has energy to make the first move.

Several times Donna comes up from the basement to get ingredients or add something to the table decor. And we just sit here.

“Are you up for playing some football?” Nic suggests, completely breaking the silence. “Fresh air and exercise will help all of our moods.”

“Sure,” Graham says, “let me throw on some clothes.”

He tugs me up from the couch, and we make our way into his childhood bedroom. I yelp as he pushes me onto the bed and follows beside me.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

“Everything your body craves.” His voice is gruff and raspy.

Before I can even utter a syllable, he is pulling my hoodie over my head and stripping me down to nothing. “Hmm,” I moan. “It feels like forever.”

He warms me up with his mouth on my nipples and a hand on my mound. His leg drapes over me lazily, and I can feel his cock hardening on my thigh. When I am twitching with need, Graham rolls on top of me and slides in from tip to base. I wiggle to adjust and love the pressure of his body holding mine down to the comforter. I relax my mind and submit to the desire that has accumulated over the past few days and let go of control.

He slides in and out in a slow burning rhythm, while I clench my inner walls to milk him.

“You feel so good, baby. I could stay buried in you the entire day and still want more.”

I bite at his neck and try to get him to pick up the pace. “Ahh!” I start to yell but get silenced by his mouth suctioning onto my lips.

Graham lifts my ass up from the mattress, angles his hips, and pushes into me to hit my sweet spot. When I start to yell again, his hand muffles the sound. I can’t even think past the next second and the growing need to get closer to the edge of the cliff. I feel so exhilarated at the thought of getting caught that it sends me over, and I arch my back and push my chest up into him. His deep growl echoes in my ear, and I feel him tense and gush inside me.

“You drive me so mad outside the bedroom that it makes me want to fuck some sense into you inside the bedroom,” he explains, wiping some beads of sweat from my forehead. He rolls me on top of him, smacks each of my ass cheeks, and tickles my sides. “Go get dressed. We can’t celebrate Thanksgiving without playing some football.”

I scurry off of him and find my bag on the dresser. I unzip and dig through to find a pair of cranberry leggings, my obnoxious cartoonish turkey socks, and a sweatshirt that says “Feminist and Proud” in puffy letters.

Graham eyes my shirt as soon as I am still enough for him to read the words.

“Got a problem?” I ask, cocking a hip.

He opens his mouth to speak but then shakes his head and stays silent.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he says slowly, pulling a sweatshirt over his head to pair with his jeans. “I just love how you call yourself a feminist but then you relinquish control to me in bed. Should change the words to ‘Feminist and Fucked.’”

I giggle at his observation. It is not false. “Ready to lose to me in football?”

He chuckles. “It’s just tossing the ball around. Nothing to win or lose. Plus, you will be watching from the sidelines.”

“What? Like some”—my eyebrows rise—“cheerleader?”

He purses his lips. “Hmm, that does sound like the making for an epic fantasy.”

“We’ll see,” I say, sauntering out of the room with him hot on my tail. I turn around to glance at him. “I’m playing.”

The sound of the front door opening causes everyone to stop what they are doing and go greet Germain and Penny. I stand in the background and watch silently as Donna holds back tears and gives her only daughter a huge hug. Germain wraps an arm around his wife in support. I do not know the last time Penny was around her family or back home, but the twisting of her hands and rocking on her heels suggests it has been some time.

“All my babies are home,” Donna says softly, smiling through the tears. “What a holiday to celebrate—even if we’re a day early.”

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