Page 60 of Accepted Precedent
“I’ll do the bullet,” I rush out, and her eyes widen. “It can’t be hard, right? No worse than getting eggshells out of a bowl.”
“Fuck Evie,” she groans, “this isn’t baking. We have to get metal out of his fucking brain.”
“Excuse me! Have you ever over-cracked an egg, then scooped out the little shards with another piece of the shell so you didn’t have to throw everything away?” I wait for a rebuttal. “No. I didn't think so. I can do this. None of us are happy because I was a dumbass and agreed to marry my best friend a decade ago. So let me get the damn bullet out of this guy’s stupidly handsome head, before I change my mind.”
She smirks and hands me the nipple clamps. “He is stupidly handsome, isn’t he?” As she puts her gloves on, she sighs, “I’m sorry, Evie. I didn’t mean what I said about the baking.”
“No. You’re right,” I concede. “I’ve become comfortable being a politician’s wife. I lost who I am.”
Kristin crouches down and moves his hair out of the way, exposing the oozing wound. “You’re more than that. Hell, you’re about to remove a bullet from the back of this man’s head. I’d like to see any of those women at the gala do the same.” She moves more of his hair and blood continues to spill onto the ground. “You know, I suppose I did his wife a favor. Cheating bastard.”
“You really did.” My stomach sours as I pinch the clamps a few times. “Okay, let’s do this.” I press them into the wet hole and poke around for the metal. It hits something hard, and I open the clamp, grabbing it. I drag it out, but it’s stuck on something. “I think we need to open it more.”
“With what?”
“I don’t know,” I groan. “It’s stuck. Maybe we could rip it open?”
“Fuck, Evie, you’ve watched too many crime documentaries. We can’t just rip open his scalp!”
“Want to bet?” I set down the clamp and grip his hair, pulling in each direction. “Shit. Okay, you’re right; that didn’t work.”
“You think?”
“All right, let me try again from a different angle.” I slip the clamps back in, tapping what could be skull fragment or the bullet. I open the clamp, and it feels about the size of a bullet. Carefully pulling it out, I squeal, “Yes! That’s it!”
“Shh! Do you want someone to hear us?”
“The neighbors next door will just assume he’s getting laid. So… now what?”
“Let’s get out of here. Ned should stop by to check in with us, and we need to get cleaned up. Will… will you stay with me tonight?”
“Of course.” I pull my glove off, wrapping the bullet and clamp inside. “Let’s get cleaned up in your room, then stay the rest of the night in Mickey’s—it’s nicer.”
There’s a pounding at the door, and we both startle.
Chapter 26
Andrew
“Fuck, baby, you just came. How are you already hard for me?” Mick murmurs beside my ear with a chuckle.
The truth is, I’ve missed him. Missed being the center of his whole world. He loves Evelyn more than me—I don’t blame him—but it feels like this past year has pulled us apart. Still, his heart has always had space for me, and tonight I can’t help basking in the glow of his attention.
Mickey rolls me onto my back, pausing for a moment as his bright green eyes search mine before kissing me. I let him lead me like he used to, owning my body and my pleasure. He reaches between us and fists my cock, moaning, “Show me who you still belong to.”
There’s a hint of jealousy in his tone, and I assure him, “I’m still yours,” even if it isn’t entirely true. I can’t bring myself to admit that I’m not only his.
He pins my arms above my head and demands, “These stay here until I’m done with you.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
A small, satisfied smirk tilts his lips. Moving down my body, he keeps his eyes locked with mine and leaves a trail of bites and hickeys in his wake. I’ve always loved being marked by him, but something about this is different—I just can’t put my finger on it. The moment he wraps his mouth around my cock, all the anxious thoughts melt away as I enjoy the flicks and swirls of his tongue on my crown and his strong hand stroking me.
“Fuck,” I groan, “that feels so fucking good.”
Mick chuckles darkly, the extra sensation of the vibration making my cock thicken in his hand. He retrieves the bottle of lube he tossed haphazardly aside earlier and squeezes it into his hand, then massages my cock in long, slow strokes. I grip the pillowcase for dear life, afraid I’m going to come too soon.
“You’re going to wait for me, baby.”
