Page 41 of Accepted Precedent
I chuckle to myself—he’s relentless. He’s always had a need for validation, reassurance, and praise, masking it with his dominance. I fed into it for years, craving his attention and affection. Not anymore. I’ll always love him and want to please him, but I don’t ache for him like I used to.
The headboard knocks against the wall as he thrusts harder, their moans and cries echoing into the ensuite. He growls in what can only be described as a roar as he comes. I finish washing up, leaving the water running as I wait for the dust to settle. When it’s silent, I shut it off and make my way back toward the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe with arms crossed.
I want to tell them I want a divorce so all of us can finally be happy, but it’s the worst timing. Instead, I stuff down my feelings and ask, “So, what’s for breakfast?”
“We can eat later. I’m not done with your wife… or you.”
“For fuck’s sake, Mick. We can’t spend the day in bed,” I laugh, pushing off and stalking over to them. “Evie and I have to take a quick shower and meet with Finn and Kristin to go over my statement and victory speech. Also, you owe me five hundred dollars.”
Mickey barks out a laugh. “That I do.”
“You should come,” she says softly, cupping his cheek.
He sighs, resting his forehead on hers. “No. Maryland is Finn’s responsibility and I need to debrief with the Blake twins. Dinner?”
“We’re supposed to have dinner with Tim and Ileah tonight,” I remind them.
He pulls out, making her whimper, then kisses down her body. “You can go… after I have my breakfast.”
Chapter 19
Mickey
ONE YEAR LATER
Waking up to Evelyn’s perfect, naked body tucked into me every morning isn’t enough. This past year has been the hardest of my life, hiding our relationship away from the world. Andrew works late most nights, and I can’t remember the last time he touched Evie. It has to be months, and I feel like we’re losing him. He’s cold, distant, as if the two of us have traded places this past year.
Something’s not right.
Evie stirs, rubbing her arse against my now-hard cock, pulling me from my overthinking. I kiss her shoulder and whisper against her skin, “What are you up to, angel?”
“Nothing,” she sings, then lets out a whimper as I slide my hand between her legs. “We don’t have time.”
“We always have time.” I slip two fingers inside her, and I’ll never tire of her delicious moans.
“I… I have to get ready for Jaclyn’s wedding.”
“You’re not in the wedding, just attending, so we have time,” I counter. “Also, there may not be a wedding.” I inwardly chastise myself for the slip-up.
Glancing over her shoulder, she pins me with a glare. “What are you up to, Mr. Gallagher?”
“The less you know, the better, love.” I drag my fingers from her and bring them to my mouth, desperate for a quick taste of her. If we stay here any longer, she’ll pull the truth from me. “You should get ready.”
Evie shifts to face me, brows still furrowed. “Please tell me you’re not going to let my best friend marry that cheating piece of shit.”
I swipe my thumb between her brows, softening her expression. “I can’t tell you how, but I promise if I have any say in it, Ms. Taylor won’t marry that arsehole.”
“Thank you, Mick,” she sighs in relief. “She deserves better.”
Pairing Christopher Blake with the Washington darling was a good idea in theory, but once he had a taste of power, it went to his head. If I can’t control him, he won’t step foot in the Oval.
Evie closes the distance, bringing her lips to mine. Her kisses are sweet and gentle, and I love when she’s soft like this—only for me. Always the light to my dark. Mine. I groan as we break apart, and as she slips out of bed, I can’t help admiring her incredible curves. It hurts to not have her in my space.
She saunters off to the ensuite, teasing a glancing over her shoulder. “Join me for a shower?”
“Sure.” I can never say no to this woman—mywoman.
As much as I want to make love to her this morning, there isn’t enough time to properly worship her. We make quick work of washing the night off us, but I can’t resist stealing kisses. She was always supposed to be mine, and I’ll never get enough of her. Part of me hates that she’s now on birth control. On days like today, I’m overcome with the need to breed my little angel, but she would have to pretend it’s Andrew’s—which would kill me.
