Текст книги "Finn Beckett"

Автор книги: M. J. Fields

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

He groans as he rotates his hips, pushing in again, stretching me wider and causing the burn to spread deeper. His breath becomes ragged and faster. Then he groans against my neck as his mouth opens and slides down my jawline, his lips seeming almost frantic to get to mine.

“More,” I say, letting my knees fall open wider.

He kisses me hard, and as our tongues dance, he thrusts in and out, in and out. Each thrust deepens, causing mayhem inside of me, each retreat causing me to panic at the thought of him not being inside of me.

“More, please. I want you. Oh, God, Finn.”

My hips rush forward to meet his. I need this. I need him. All of him.

He groans then hisses, rocking into me harder, more urgently.

“Brace yourself,” he growls.

When he slams into me, I swear I have left the planet because I see stars, and I cry out. Pain, pleasure, desire …

“More.”

“Thank God,” he says as one hand runs down my body; the other pulls me closer to the edge as he makes his way off the bed.

He stands, grips my hips, and tells me, “Legs around me.”

Once I do as he asks, he leans forward, knees pressing against the mattress as he ducks down and kisses me hard, deep, and fully. His hand grips my neck gently, and he turns my head so his tongue can plunge farther into my mouth as he tastes me.

He pulls his lips from mine, a growl escaping his chest as he rocks me harder, faster. His hand travels slowly down between my breasts and over my stomach.

He stops briefly, and I wonder for a moment if he is as close to the edge as I am.

“Finn?” I cry out.

“Here, Sonya. Right here.” He thrusts harder as his hand moves farther down and farther still until his thumb caresses my pussy. It circles my clit, then rubs it hard.

“I’m gonna come, Finn.”

“Eyes, I want them here.” He rubs my clit harder. “Look at us. You and me, fucking perfect.”

I watch him enter me. I watch his eyes as he watches the same thing. He licks his lips, bares his teeth, hisses as his thrusts hasten. In, out, and then his hips swivel a bit, and he hits a spot inside of me that pushes me so hard over the edge I swear I will never return.

“Fuck yes,” he hisses. “Fuck yeah. Give me more dammit. Come harder. Aw, fuck, that’s it.”

“Finn,” I pant. “I can’t. I can’t.”

“With. You.” He grunts. “Come. Come with me.” His head falls back, and my name rushes out of his mouth. It has never sounded more beautiful. Never.

I feel his massive, rock hard cock twitch inside of me as he comes hard. Each thrust, I know he’s giving me more. Each thrust, I want more. I am spent, done. I will never be the same again. Never.

He looks so beautiful as he slumps forward, and the sweat from his brows touches my breast as he presses his forehead against it and fights to catch his breath. I use all the strength I can muster to lift my hand and run it through his damp hair and press him to me tightly.

Something inside of me was released today, something that should have stayed caged.

I look up at her from the most comfortable place my head has ever rested—her breasts. She is staring at the ceiling and still rubbing my head lazily.

I should pull out. Throw out the rubber that I am sure is overflowing. I have never come so fucking hard in my life. But I don’t want to move.

My phone goes off, and she startles.

I sigh, grab the base of my cock, and stand, while pulling out of her. She moans when I do, and that sound teases the hell out of me.

I look her up and down as I stand. “Fuck the phone,” I say and lie next to her on my side. “That was …” I stop when she smiles. “What?”

She sighs. “You should probably get the phone.”

“Why?” I ask as I take a strand of her hair and rub it between my fingers. “It could be them.” I cringe jokingly, and then her phone goes off.

She starts to sits up, but I pull her back.

“Amazing. It felt damn good, and I am not—”

“Finn, I have to get it.” She sighs. “But I agree.”

“Good damn thing,” I say as I reach over and grab my phone.

“This is Sonya,” she answers after grabbing her own phone. “Hello?” She looks at me. “It was Talia’s number.”

“Yeah, I have a missed call from Memphis. We could ignore them,” I suggest.

“I don’t think—” She stops when there is a loud banging on the door. “Oh, no.” She jumps up. “Oh, what was I thinking?” she scrambles to get her clothes.

I stand and pull her against me. “You think they aren’t going to be able to tell? I’m not sure—”

“They can’t,” she gasps and tries to pull away. “Finn, you promised.”

I kiss her hard on the forehead. “Go jump in the shower. I’ll figure it out.”

“But—”

“Trust me.” I kiss her head again, then release her. “Go.”

More banging on the door, this time louder.

As soon as she shuts the bathroom door, I grab my clothes in one hand, hers in the other. I open the door to the bathroom, ditch the condom, and flush it, dropping her clothes on the vanity.

“Might need these,” I tell her, and she nods, wrapping a towel around her.

I close the door behind me. Next, I throw the comforter over the bed, grab my phone, and dart across the suite. Inside the other room, I mess up the bed, toss some pillows so it looks like I slept in it, and then I pull on my pants.

I open the door to the four of them standing there.

“Can I help you?” I ask, stepping back.

“You could answer the door, your phone, maybe—” Memphis barks.

“Where’s Sonya? She didn’t answer, either.” Tally interrupts.

“How the hell should I know where she is?” I ask, walking to the kitchenette to grab a bottle of water.

“What the hell does she have in these things?” River grumbles as he pulls two hot pink suitcases in behind him. He looks at me with concern. “You good?”

I nod. “Just tired.”

“You should be.” Billy looks at me, then River. “That was bullshit on both your parts.”

“You need a flashing red light when you start this shit.” River rolls his eyes and pushes his hands into his pockets.

“What?” Billy asks.

“Pot patrol, morality police, that shit.” River scowls at him, and I bite back a laugh.

“This isn’t a joke,” Billy snaps.

“It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt,” Tally whispers.

“You learn that in church?” I ask.

“Enough,” Memphis sneers at me, then looks at River and Billy. “First, don’t talk to her like that.”

“Memphis, it’s fine.” She smiles at him.

He shakes his head, disagreeing with her. “Second”—he pries his eyes off her—“we are a team, a group, a band, so there needs to be no bullshit. Love, support, music,” he says, and I can tell he’s frazzled.

“Look”—I step in—“I was in a bad place. I asked for the damn pills, so leave this one out of it.” I point to River. “Tally, I apologize for the remark I made. Memphis and Billy, pull the sticks out of your asses. We are all in this one hundred percent, or we wouldn’t be here now.”

“But you weren’t here,” Memphis says. “You were in la-la land while we were meeting the fucking DJ who set up tomorrow’s auditions, the man spinning our tunes on the radio, the one who publically compares you to John Paul Jones.”

“Understood.” I nod.

“And what?”

“Under-fucking-stood, Memphis. No what,” I say with a little more ’tude than usual.

Our eyes lock, neither of us backing down.

“Sonya? Any idea where she is?” Tally asks.

“When I hit the bed, she was here. Maybe check the other room,” I suggest, finally looking away from Memphis and pointing to the room I wish I was still in, naked with Sonya.

River chuckles, shakes his head, and walks to the mini fridge.

“We need to eat,” I say, rubbing my hand over my beard.

“You haven’t yet?” River asks, looking at me then slowly away.

I know that look. He’s in my head.

“No, I was asleep.”

“She’s just getting out of the shower. I asked her to go down and have dinner with us,” Tally says as she pulls one of the two suitcases in the room. “She said she’ll be quick.”

River walks over and grabs the other suitcase. “I’ll take this one in.”

“She’s in a towel.” Tally laughs.

“Perfect.” River chuckles, then looks out of the corner of his eye at me.

I am two seconds from take down. I don’t want him in there. Nevertheless, I made a promise to a girl to keep my mouth shut. Now, how the fuck am I gonna keep my shit in check?

“I’ll get it. Just leave it there.” Tally points next to her then opens the bedroom door, walks in, and closes it behind her.

Thank God, I think as I turn my back to them.

“I’ll shower.” I grab my bag and walk into the other room, shutting the door behind me.

After showering and changing, I walk out as Sonya is walking out of her room. I smile; she blushes. It makes me want to smile more, but I’m playing chill right now.

“Thank God, I’m starving,” River says, standing up. He looks at his phone. “It’s six o’clock, for fuck’s sake. Let’s roll.”

They all walk to the door. Tally looks back at Sonya, then at Memphis. She whispers something in his ear and then lags back. “Come hang with me?” she says to Sonya.

“You don’t have to—”

“We started out rough. Doesn’t have to be that way.” Tally smiles at her, and Sonya smiles back.

“Okay,” Sonya replies.

I make sure I’m last. I close the door behind me and take in a deep breath of the scent wafting in the air, a scent that is all her. Sweet as pie.

Now I’m fucking starving.

***

We settle in at the table in Ristorante Tuscany. It’s a casual atmosphere, which I prefer.

“You like it here?” River asks, knowing I am not a fan of the stuffy, fancy dining places Memphis and Billy enjoy.

“No suit, no service, no me,” I say as I sit next to him, directly across from Sonya who sits next to Tally.

The waitress comes over and smiles. “Welcome to Ristorante Tuscany,” she says with a thick Southern twang. “Can I start y’all out with some wine?”

“Yes, please,” Billy looks at the wine list. “A bottle of Columbia Valley Pinot Noir. The Sonoma Coast looks good.” He sets the wine list down and looks at us all staring at him. “What?”

Memphis smirks. “Nothing, man.”

The waitress looks around, her eyes landing on Tally and Sonya. “Y’all twenty-one?”

“Yep.” Tally smiles and digs in her little purse, producing her ID.

The waitress looks it over, hands it back, and then looks at Sonya.

“No, not yet,” she says quietly. “Water is fine.”

To say I’m shocked is an understatement. Her eyes rise up and meet mine briefly before she looks down.

I fucked a minor. How minor is she?

I stare at her. Has to be eighteen. I cringe, thinking she could be younger. But X wouldn’t hire a kid. No fucking way would he throw her to the wolves—us—if that were true. Plus, she has a scar, one I won’t ask about because then she may ask about mine. The past is the past, and Sonya is not a fucking minor.

I need a smoke. I sit back and run my hand through my hair.

Fuck.

“How about some starters?” the waitress asks.

“I’ll take a Becks,” I say. “Make that two.”

“Fosters,” River says. “Make it three.”

“For starters,” Billy says, “we will have steamed mussels, shrimp scampi, and some bruschetta.”

The waitress looks up from her pad and looks around. “That it?”

“Thank you,” Billy says and hands her the wine list.

I look at the menu. “Order me the Tuscan T-bone. I’m going out for a smoke.” I stand, and River stands, too.

“Same for me. We’ll be back.”

“Seriously, can’t it wait?” Billy asks.

“No,” we both say at the same time as we walk toward the door.

Outside the hotel, we both light up. I light a Camel, and he lights something else entirely.

“You want?”

“No, man, this will work,” I say before taking a drag.

“So Sonya?” he says then inhales a deep drag.

“How the fuck did you get that?” I look pointedly at the joint.

“Pot?” he asks.

“No, your ink, man. Yes, pot. On the plane?” I roll my eyes, thinking how stupid he is to put his ass in jeopardy like that.

“Honestly, I forgot it was in my pocket,” he says after he exhales.

“How the fuck did you forget?”

He looks at me and sighs. “You didn’t remind me.”

“So it’s my fault?” I take a drag of my cigarette and wait for the long-winded explanation only River can give.

“Not your fault, man. Just used to you knowing where my head is ’cause yours isn’t stuck in a fog. I mean, you are the one who knows me best. You’ve been low with me. Well, high I guess.” he smirks. “Then you got it together, and you brought me along. You made me believe I could, too.”

“We could,” I say, putting my smoke in the sand. “And we did.”

“You’re my best friend, man. You’re a better man than I ever will be.”

“Not true, River. We are the same, you and me. Don’t say shit like that. When we ran into each other, it was for a reason. Fucking crazy as hell, too. We lived two towns apart and never ran into each other. You saved my ass back then. I was so fucked up, so incredibly fucked up.”

“You lost a girl.” He cringes, shakes his head, and then takes a drag.

“You lost one, too. We both—” I pause when my phone vibrates and pull it out of my pocket. “Drinks are on the table. Let’s go. That shit’s in the past.”

“You gonna be okay? You gonna get your head back on straight? I can’t tell you no. Not strong enough to tell myself no.”

“We gotta be, man.” I pat his back. “We’re living the dream now.”

Back inside, we sit, and I watch all eyes on me, then River.

“We were gone ten minutes. Not enough time to cause a lot of damage.” I take a drink of my beer. “Carry on.”

“Damn,” River says as the seafood appetizers get set in the middle of the table. “Smells familiar.”

I laugh at him and shake my head. “If you come up on something that smells like that, you better either wash it or leave it.”

“Smells like fish, it’s a dish. Smells like cologne—”

“Leave ’em both alone.” Memphis laughs. “Shit’s not supposed to taste or smell like fish.”

“Not gonna smell or taste perfect, man. They piss.” River shakes his head.

Memphis laughs. “You defending improper pooty?”

“Realistic expectations, brother,” he says then swallows down half his beer.

I see Sonya looking down, her eyes wide. This is making her uncomfortable.

“If you kiss a girl, and her taste alone makes you hard, you gotta bow down and check out what’s between her thighs,” I interject. “You kiss a girl and question her oral hygiene, walk.”

“Says the man who doesn’t go down.”

“I’ve gone down.” I look at River. “Pussy—healthy, clean pussy—should taste like her saliva, but a little more acidic. Never fish unless you’re into kinky shit, and you shove a shrimp up in it and eat it out.” I reach over, grab a shrimp, and pop it in my mouth. “The right pussy is fucking delicious.”

“Okay, Jesus H,” Billy grumbles. “Can’t we have a decent meal?”

“We were just talking about—”

“I know what we were talking about,” Billy says, a little more than annoyed.

“Rooms,” Memphis interjects. “Tales said she would share with Sonya. I’ll share with you, Finn.”

I laugh. “You wanna share with me when your girl is here?”

“We’re here for work. Besides, I miss you, man.” He reaches over and rubs my hand.

“Fuck off.” I yank it back and roll my eyes as he laughs. “You and Tales share a room; don’t be stupid.”

“You okay with that, Sonya?” Tally asks her.

I have no idea why she’s using kid gloves with Sonya when a week ago she hated her. Not sure I like it, either. Tales is a keeper. I know Memphis and she will be together for a long damn time. Sonya, on the other hand, seems like a runner.

Sonya nods. “Of course.”

“If I scare you, feel free to lock your door at night,” I say, then finish my beer.

“I’m sure we can be professional.” She sets her glass of water down and stands. “Please excuse me for just a minute.”

When she walks away, I can’t help watching her.

As soon as she’s out of earshot, Tally whispers something to Memphis. He smiles thoughtfully at her and kisses her nose.

It’s quiet. I usually like quiet, but I can’t help thinking they are already making assumptions about me and her. Still, I want to honor my promise. A man’s word is all he has that matters in this world.

“What time do the auditions start tomorrow?” I ask.

“Nine in the morning,” Billy answers.

“You kidding me?” River gasps. “We’re a rock band. We’re supposed to party all night and sleep all day.”

“It’s only one day to line up two shows here in Texas, right?” I ask, grabbing a slice of bruschetta.

“You in, man?” Memphis asks.

“Sure,” I say, then take a bite.

“Well, fuck, that means I have to, too.” River sighs.

We discuss the bands we will see tomorrow. Well, Billy, Tally, and Memphis do; River and I listen. Well, I listen since River is busy shoveling food down ’cause he is high. Fucker must have a tapeworm. He can eat like it’s his damn job.

I look around. Speaking of eating, Sonya has been gone too damn long.

“I’ll be back. Gotta piss.” I stand.

“I’ll go—” River pauses when I give him the stink eye. “After you get back.”

Hopefully, no one else caught on, I think as I walk out of the restaurant again.

I walk around the corner and see her standing against the wall. Her back is to me. Her phone is in one hand, and her other hand covers her ear, I assume so she can hear.

I get two feet from her and hear, “Noah, I love you.”

I turn and walk. No fucking way am I gonna lie down with a chick who’s into someone else.

“I love you.” I hear her say again.

I walk fast into the restaurant where the wait staff is setting down the plates of food.

“You mind boxing mine up? I am gonna go back to the room,” I say, looking at everyone who is looking up at me. “If you want me there at nine, I need my beauty sleep.”

I look at River, who eyes me suspiciously. “I’ll go, too.”

“You two are both leaving?” Billy asks.

“If you want us both there in the morning, then yes,” I answer.

***

River and I are on the balcony, finishing the ‘after dinner mint,’ or joint, when I see her walk in the room with a box that has the restaurant’s name on it. She sets it in the fridge and looks around.

“Sonya,” River yells in. “Come partake?”

She cocks her head to the side as she walks toward the balcony.

“She’s hot,” River whispers. “Nice little titties, curvy ass.”

I don’t stop him. I let him continue. If I wasn’t high, I would probably want to break his nose.

“That hair, though. Fucking redheads are the devil.”

“Partake in …?” she asks as she steps out.

River holds out the joint. “Herbage, conversation, and testing.”

She shakes her head. “No, thank you.”

She looks at me, and I swear to God she looks hurt, maybe disappointed.

“What?”

She shakes her head again. “Nothing. Just wondering if you’re ‘partaking’ after this morning’s mess.”

I take the joint from River, take a hit, and blow it toward her. “That answer your question, None-ya?”

As River snickers, she looks pissed, and I don’t give a fuck.

Noah.

Fuck him.

Fuck her.

“Goodnight,” she says and walks back in.

“She should really smoke something. Kind of uptight.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I say, trying to keep myself in check.

“Gonna go try to corrupt Billy boy.” River grins. “You wanna come?”

“Nah.” I take another hit and give it back to him. “I’m gonna write.”

He holds up the joint. “Brilliance inducer?”

“When you gonna tell us a story?” I ask.

“Me? I got no story.”

“Bullshit,” I say as I walk into the suite. “We all have a story.”

***

When I sit on the couch, pad in hand, ready to lay down a foundation, she walks out of her room and gives me hell with her eyes.

I give it right back.

“You should really lay off the damn drugs,” she hisses as she grabs the box from the mini fridge.

“You should try not to ride the innocent, little tease wave when you’re nothing but a—” I stop when she gasps.

I look at her, really look at her, and she looks mortified.

“You’re a fucking actress, None-ya.”

“Excuse me?”

Unable to contain my anger, I slam down the book and storm toward her.

“Who the fuck is Noah?”

She looks terrified as tears spring to her eyes.

“Can he make you feel as good as I do?” I grab her and yank her against me.

“Leave me alone.” She tries to pull away.

“Does he eat your—”

Her hand slaps me hard across the face, stopping me from finishing the sentence.

“He’s my son! And don’t you ever”—she pushes against my chest hard with her little fists—“ever talk about him again!”

Instinct makes me clutch on to her when I should do as she asks. I hold her head against my chest, keeping her there.

She pushes in protest, but I am so fucking sure, after what I just said to her, if I let go, she won’t come back.

“Sorry,” I say, and her fight weakens.

“How did you …? Why did you …? I—”

“Came to find you at dinner, heard you say his name, and …” I can’t even say the words she said to him. I haven’t said them in six years to anyone. “Damn it, I’m sorry.”

“Let me go,” she says on a muffled sob. Her head is buried in my chest.

I don’t want to let go. I don’t want to, but I have to.

“If I knew, I would have never…”

“What? Never what?” She pushes harder, and I let go regretfully.

“I didn’t know.”

“There is a lot you don’t know. You stop me every time I try to tell you!”

“I don’t want to know about the past. He isn’t your past,” I defend.

She steps back and wipes her eyes. “Goodnight.”

“Talk to me,” I plead.

She shakes her head. “I don’t even know what I am allowed to talk about.”

“Any fucking thing you want. I’ll listen.”

“But you won’t talk,” she says as if she is done, completely done with me.

“You’re right, but I’ll listen.”

She looks confused, scared, still angry, but the emotion that sticks out is fear. She’s fucking afraid.

“How old is he?” I ask.

“Four.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty.”

“So you were sixteen when you had him?”

“Almost seventeen,” she answers, guarded, so fucking guarded.

“He live with his dad?”

She shakes her head. “Noah is very, very sacred to me. Don’t ask me to share him with you when I have protected him forever.”

“Protected him from whom?”

“You’re asking for my past, a subject you don’t want to talk about.”

“The scar on your stomach, was it from childbirth?”

Her body tenses, and she stands up straighter. “No.”

“Sonya—”

“Finn, I can’t. I won’t share that with someone who seems hell bent on breaking me. When I gave myself to you, it was because we weren’t going backward. You and I would have never happened if we were, trust me. You couldn’t—”

“Who does he live with?”

“My aunt when I’m not there.”

“Where is his father?” I ask, feeling like the answer is going to tip my world upside down.

“Not sure. Cuba maybe.”

“Where is home?” I ask cautiously, knowing something is off.

“Columbus, Ohio.”

I look at her, a sick reality coming over me. “Your hair is dark brown.”

She turns her head away.

“Sonya, look at me.”

She turns her head back toward me, pain in her eyes.

“I think I know your story. I don’t want to push you, ’cause I sure as hell don’t want to be pushed, but please tell me I’m wrong because I don’t want to think anyone ever hurt you that way.”

Her eyes flutter, tears spill, and I am literally shaking.

“Come here.”

She shakes her head.

“Then I’m coming for you.”

I take two steps, closing the distance between us, and then I have her in my arms so fucking tightly I’m sure she can’t breathe. Her body trembles as she cries against my chest.

I pick her up, carry her to the couch, and sit with her cradled in my arms.

I am holding the girl who, at sixteen years old, was attacked by an illegal immigrant, the son of a man hired by Roxy Charles as a gardener for her home. Roxy was arrested by the FBI in a sting operation that sent her to prison for running the biggest drug ring in the history of the state of Ohio, though the charge was later dropped to dealing.

Sonya was apparently living with her aunt in the family home when she went to meet the asshole who got her pregnant, and she was stabbed in the stomach just outside the gates of her home and left for dead. The entire attack was caught on video surveillance and broadcasted nationally in the hopes of finding her attacker.

As fucked up as I was back then, I remember. It was like something straight out of Hollywood, something you would never expect to happen in real life.

“Shhh,” I say to calm her sobs as I rock back and forth, though it’s also to calm myself from the image I can’t get out of my mind.

I don’t know how much time passes as I stare at the wall, holding her, but she falls asleep. I stand up with her still in my arms and carry her in my room, lay her down, and lie right next to her.

She opens her eyes and looks at me. Mascara is smeared under her bloodshot eyes, and her face is red and puffy.

“I don’t want anyone to know,” she whispers.

“No one will ever hear it from me. Go back to sleep. I’ve got you.”

Tonight, I can’t sleep. Hell, I’m surprised I can breathe. My mind races with thoughts of taking care of her, wanting to take care of her. Thoughts of how the hell she has managed for four years and thoughts of finding that sick fuck who did this to her and tearing him apart limb by limb.

She is in my arms, sobbing, crying, and holding her stomach, and then she falls asleep. She mumbles his name and no, please, and repeats it over and over. Then she says my name. My. Name. I don’t understand it, but I hope in her nightmare I am killing the motherfucker with my bare hands.

When she is quiet, I remember every horrific detail. That story was what made me stop watching the news. I couldn’t handle it. It made a dark time even darker.

***

I look up when she walks out of my room. “I ordered breakfast. Wasn’t sure what you liked so … well …” Fuck, I’m nervous. “I ordered a little bit of everything.”

“Thank you. It really wasn’t necessary, Finn.”

As she walks past me toward her room, I reach out and take her hand.

“Don’t—”

“Don’t what?” I ask, taking her other hand. She doesn’t say anything else. “Forgive me for being a dick last night. I wouldn’t have if—”

“If you knew who I was? If you remembered seeing me dying on TV or the video that went viral on YouTube or the story plastered all over the damn newspapers? That doesn’t work for me, Finn.”

“No,” I half-lie. “If I hadn’t overheard a phone conversation that was none of my damn business.”

She looks at me curiously.

“Was I awful to you at dinner?”

She shakes her head.

“Before dinner?”

“No,” she answers.

“And before that?” I ask, smiling cautiously.

A small smile appears and is gone quickly. “No.”

“Good. Let’s forget the fucking past. It’s ugly and doesn’t make us who we are today or want to be tomorrow, right?”

“You’ll never look at me the same.”

“I can guarantee I will.” I make another promise I can’t break.

“How many times did you watch the video online?”

I shrug. “I was really fucked up back then.”

“Promise me you’ll never watch it again.”

I nod. “Deal.”

“I like French toast without syrup, with strawberries and cinnamon.”

Shit. I didn’t order French toast.

“All right, we can order it up.”

She smiles and looks at the ground. “Promise me that, after the tour, you won’t hate me.”

“Why would you say something like that, Sonya?” I ask, pushing her hair behind her ear.

She shrugs. “Just a gut feeling.”

“That’s a hungry feeling in your tummy, girl. Let me call and order—”

“I was messing with you. You know, I used to be a spoiled, rich—”

I tug her to me and quickly kiss her hard, then pull away.

“Why the fuck would we ruin the here and now with shitty talk about our past?” I kiss her again the same way then pull back. “The here and now feels damn good, Sonya.”

“Yeah, it does.” She looks up, and I can see in her eyes what she wants, so I bow down and give her another kiss. When I pull back, she smiles, a real smile. “Did you order bacon and eggs?”

“Sure did.”

“Good. That sounds really good.”