Chapter 97

Bring back your guitar!” she shouted from the bedroom as I rushed down the stairs in a towel. “I want lunch and a show!”

“Whatever your fucking heart desires, princess,” I called back. On the bottom step, I paused. “Hey, what’s your number for the calendar?”

“Oh…” She said nothing more, and I waited. “Is it bad if I’m happy but crappy?”

I chuckled because I understood that sentiment. The swing of emotions as we worked our way through all this shit was intense—some great, some awful.

“No, baby girl, I’m right there with you,” I told her.

“So… six-point-two-five?”

“Genevieve, how specific is this number system?”

“Six-point-three-five?”

“Woman!” She had me fucking grinning like a fucking idiot.

“Six-point-five! Six-point-five!” I could hear her giggling, and it only made me smile wider. That sound. It did things to my heart—and my dick apparently from the tent growing in my fucking towel. I could listen to her laugh all day and all night.

“That’s fine,” I said. “But I’m sticking with whole numbers. No half numbers and point this or that shit.”

“Fine! If you insist! I’ll go with seven,” Genevieve retorted.

“No, you’re stuck with your six-point-five exactness, princess,” I replied and went to the kitchen. She’d hung the calendar on the fridge for easy access. Just the sight of it made my darkened heart soften. The way this woman fucking loved me was a goddamn national treasure.

Six-point-five for her. Six for me. Happy but crappy. It was better than it could’ve been. Progress was progress and all that shit.

Heavy knocking on the front door made me frown. Who the fuck was so rude to come over unannounced? Maybe it wasn’t rude per se but I liked to know when people were going to show up in my fucking house.

Maybe if we didn’t answer, they’d go away.

But they fucking didn’t. They just kept on fucking knocking until I yanked open the front door, ready to fight an unannounced fucker.

That unannounced fucker turned out to be Roan with that stupid ass grin on his face as he slid off his sunglasses. His work truck sat in my drive. Was he in town for Declan and Raven’s house? I couldn’t imagine he was here to see me because the last time I had any vague recollection of seeing him, I’d hit him while drunk as fuck.

“What the fuck do you want?” I asked.

“Who the fuck answers the door with their dick hard?” Roan shot back.

“It’s my fucking house!” I exclaimed. Still, I reached down and made sure my towel was secure. All my neighbors were old as fuck. I didn’t need to be flashing any of them. “And it’s my dick! I can do what I want with it.”

At that precise moment, Ellen and her other side neighbor, Maxine Brentwood, happened to be walking past. Both women stopped. And fucking stared.

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Have a good afternoon, ladies!” I yelled. I grabbed Roan by the shoulders and yanked him inside all while he fucking laughed his ass off. “Fuck, I’ll never live that down.”

“You look pretty like this, boo,” he teased. “I’m sure they ain’t complaining.”

“Fuck you,” I said. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Instead of saying a fucking word, Roan dragged me in for a hug. Hug was an understatement. The man was practically crushing me with how tight he held on. I should’ve seen this one coming.

“I’m sorry.” I pat him on the back. “I should’ve fucking called.”

“Declan’s kept me updated,” he muttered. “He’s the only reason I wasn’t kicking down your fucking door sooner.”

“Yeah but still.” I kept patting him because what the hell else was I supposed to do? The man had a fucking death grip on me, which was fucking awkward, considering the state of my uncooperative dick—a fact he fucking knew. “Can we stop fucking hugging now? My dick is still hard.”

“That sounds like a you problem.” He smirked but let me go nonetheless. “You and me, young man, are going to sit down and have a fucking chat.”

“Young man?” I scoffed. “You’re like five years older, you furry fuck.”

“Hey, now,” he cracked a fucking grin, “listen to Daddy Roan or I’ll send you to your fucking room.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” I chuckled. This fucking man.

“Hey, Ian, did you get—” Genevieve’s words devolved to a loud shriek as she scurried right back up the stairs—completely fucking naked. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Sorry, baby girl!” I yelled up the stairs. Fuck, I’d probably never get her back down. Hell, she was probably up there packing her bags to leave the fucking country.

“Who knew sweet little Ginny Byrne was so fucking pierced?” Roan commented.

“Talk about my wife naked once more and I’ll send you back to Iron Falls in fucking pieces,” I snarled. I grabbed a couch pillow and hit him with it to emphasize my point. Hard.

“Are we naked pillow fighting now?” He laughed and tossed it back at me. “Give me a chance to get fucking naked, you furry shit.”

“You keep your goddamn clothes on,” I retorted when he reached for the hem of his shirt. Going straight to the kitchen to make an apology cup of coffee, I ordered over my shoulder, “Get your furry ass outside. Give me a few minutes to talk my wife out of moving to the fucking moon or something.”

“Baby girl,” I began as I set the mug of apology coffee on the nightstand. Hidden under all the blankets in our bed, Genevieve didn’t say a word. I sat next to her and patted the mound until I found her under it. “Baby girl, take off the blankets, please.”

“Let’s move to the North Pole,” she whined. Yeah, she was plotting our move already.

“Sounds cold.”

“South Pole?”

“Still fucking cold.”

“Australia?”

“Have you googled the fucking spiders? No thank you,” I said. “I’m not living on a fucking continent where everything tries to kill you. I’m scary but not that fucking scary.”

“The moon?” she tried pathetically. I smiled. Called it.

“I’m afraid of heights,” I reminded her. She’d learned that one the hard way when I tried to strong-arm my way on a fucking Ferris wheel for her when we were seventeen.

“We need to move,” Genevieve whispered.

“Or,” I yanked away the blanket and dropped between her knees. I smoothed my palms over her naked thighs. Fuck me. Even just touching her so simply had my goddamn cock springing right back to life like we had three fucking years to make up for. “I can just keep reminding you how fucking gorgeous you are and how there’s nothing to be ashamed of about your body.”

“That’s not true,” she said. Knocking her knees apart further, I thrust forward until my dick was buried deep inside her. That breathy little moan she let out was divine temptation, but I didn’t do anything else. She tried to wiggle against me for something more, but I lowered down onto her until she was pinned underneath me. “Please.”

“I’m not moving until you tell me something you love about your body, baby girl,” I told her.

“Ian.”

“Princess.”

“Please?”

“One thing you like about your body, Genevieve,” I repeated.

“I like my eyes,” she told me after a moment. It took her too fucking long to think of an answer so damn basic.

“Why?” I asked. “Elaborate, baby girl. What do you like about your eyes?”

“My color is unique,” she said. Unique was an understatement. Her eyes were liquid gold teaming with pale greens and amber. They were fucking stunning.

“Good girl,” I praised and kissed her, my tongue driving past her lips to find hers. As promised, I gave her the relief she needed, thrusting into her steadily. Her legs rose on my hips, her eyes fluttered shut, and my hand covered her mouth to keep her quiet. But as her muscles began to pulse around my cock, I stopped and pinned her to the bed. She gasped against my hand in protest. “Tell me something else you love about your body, princess.”

“Ian!” she exclaimed with frustration when I moved my palm to hear her words.

“Princess,” I replied. I bit her neck and flexed my hips enough to make her moan. “All you have to do is tell me and I’ll make sure you come.”

“Please…”

“Are you going to tell me it isn’t your pussy clinging to my dick, desperate to come?” She moaned once more as I dragged my tongue up her neck and nipped at her ear. “Tell me and I’ll give you what you want.”

Adding to her tension, I slid a hand between us and sought out her clit. I brushed over her piercing once, enjoying the moan that built in her throat.

“I like my ass,” Genevieve said with a small giggle.

“And why do you like your ass, Genevieve?” I asked, grinning wide. I knew my wife’s smart mouth, which meant I knew when she was about to say something sassy as fuck.

“Because it turns my husband a little bit stupid when he’s staring at it.” That giggle turned into a breathy laugh even as I buried my teeth in her neck.

“I’m going to fuck the sassy right out of that mouth, princess.”

“Please, try.”

I braced myself on one hand and locked my other around her neck, squeezing tight. Her eyes rolled back as she gave in instantly. And then I did exactly what I said I would: I fucked the sassy right out of her.

For twenty minutes anyway.