Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 131459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
And the same thing could be said about their daughter.
“Exactly that.”
“It’ll blow over, Genny.”
“Tom, why aren’t you seeing Mika?”
He felt his spine straighten at her unexpected question.
“Sorry?”
“I don’t…just to say, she’s kind of perfect for you. You should give it a shot.”
He set his glass aside, bent forward, resting an elbow in his knee, and started, “Genny—”
“She’s got her own thing, so you can do your own thing. She’s smart and creative and talented. She’s attractive. She hates the limelight, just like you. Chloe says she’s a fabulous mom and her daughter is quick as a whip and very sweet. She created that. All alone. You’ve always admired her.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about these things.”
“We’re friends, right?” she asked. “Friends who have shared a lot together. Children. Love. Our bodies. Years of our time. I know you. I know you, Tom. And it’s like Mika Stowe was made for you.”
“All right, maybe I don’t want to talk about it.”
She stopped fucking around and got down to it.
“You can be happy again.”
“Gen—”
“Do you need my permission? Because you have it. You’ve had it for a long—”
Goddamn it.
He was not doing this.
“Imogen,” he bit.
“You’re not going to gag me with your guilt, Tom,” she bit back. “Enough. It’s done and gone. It’s over. We all love you. We want you to be happy.”
“Would you like to know what I want?” he retorted.
“Of course I would.”
“I want to be happy, but more, I want to make sure the ones I care about are.”
“And?”
It was incredulous when he parroted, “And?”
“You’re very adept at that, Tom. I should know. You made me that way for decades.”
“And then I stopped.”
He felt the air move out of her, and she was a hundred miles away.
“You see my concern,” he stated drily.
“Tommy, honey,” she whispered.
“Can I ask a favor and we not—?”
He was cut off, not by Genny, but by his doorbell ringing.
Excellent.
Whoever it was, it was an excuse to end this call.
“Someone is at the door. I have to go.”
“We need to talk about this more,” she said quickly.
That was not going to happen.
“Fine. But later. Tell Bowie I said hello and have a great night.”
“Like that’s going to happen now,” she mumbled.
“Don’t worry about me,” he ordered, hesitating as he walked to the door because it was made of glass, and he could see Mika on the other side of it.
What the fuck?
And…
Shit.
“I’m fine,” he finished.
“Right,” she continued to mumble.
“Must go. Love you, Genny.”
“And I love you, Tom,” she replied.
That used to cut him up, the times she’d say it close to when they split, and later, close to when she reunited with Duncan.
Now, he barely heard it as he disconnected and prowled to the door.
He pulled it open and shared, “We’re not going to do this, Mika.”
He found he was wrong about that because she pushed right in.
The kittens, now big enough to be cordoned off to entire rooms, tumbled her way.
She ignored them and rounded on Tom.
“Baby?” she snapped.
That wasn’t what he was expecting.
“What?” he asked.
“You can call me ‘baby’ when you’re fucking me, Tom. Until that time, refrain.”
He grew perfectly still.
She kept ranting.
“Even if you were fucking me, you don’t get to decide for me. And under no circumstances do you get to ghost me, avoid me, talk shit to me, distance yourself from me.”
She took a step with her long legs his way and got up on her toes to get into his face.
So close, he could swear he felt her breasts whisper across his chest.
And she kept at him.
“And those are all big, so I hope you’re taking mental notes. But most of all, you don’t get to come back in my life, pretend you want to be there, then step out whenever the fuck you want.”
“You need to step back,” he said quietly.
“I’m not going to step fucking back,” she returned heatedly. “We’re doing this. Now.”
“Mika, honey, please, step back.”
The flames of fury danced in her eyes for a second. They sputtered. They died. Her expression went slack.
And her lips whispered, “Oh.”
But she did not step back.
“Hon—” he began.
He didn’t finish because her breasts were no longer whispering against his chest. They were plastered there. She was pressed to him from belly to chest. Her long, slender fingers were in his hair, pulling his head down to hers.
And she crushed her lips against his.
She opened her mouth, made a noise low in her throat that seared through his cock, but she didn’t get her tongue in his mouth.
He pushed it back and took hers.
She melted into him.
He wrapped his arms around her.
Christ.
He was finally tasting her.
Shit.
Fuck.
Christ.
Better than a million dreams.
Christ.
He broke the kiss and took a wide step to the side.
“Mika, this can’t happen,” he said, his voice firm, but gruff.
She reached out, fisted her fingers in his shirt, and didn’t pull him to her. Her hand was the hook on her line to come back to him.