Part 18 (1/2)

Think, West. Figure it out, or you'll be rubbing your d.i.c.k so much you'll summon a f.u.c.king genie.

I'm surprised I haven't already.

A snort of laughter escapes me. Apparently I could use a genie to help get my s.e.x life back. I wouldn't even need three wishes-just one would do. I get dressed in a gray suit and knot my tie while looking in the mirror. Unsurprisingly, my expression is tense and rigid.

I'm not an a.s.shole. At least, I haven't been before now, I don't think. I've always tried to give Liv whatever she wants, whatever she needs. I waited months for her to be ready for me when we were first dating, and d.a.m.ned if I wouldn't have waited longer. I'd have waited as long as it took. Olivia Rose Winter was a woman you'd wait an eternity for. And then you'd sit back and wait even longer.

When she told me to go to Altopascio after the miscarriage, because she knew I had to stay away from King's or risk my career, I went. I'd hated being away from her for months, but I'd done it. Like now, I'd spent most of my nights jerking off like a teenager, waiting to get back to her. Same thing after Nicholas was born, though I'd been expecting that. I waited it out again, knowing it would take awhile.

While we've had brief resurgences of great s.e.x, this drought has now lasted longer than a while. And while I would gladly become a monk in exchange for keeping my family safe and happy... well, my family is safe and happy.

And I'm no monk.

My cell buzzes with a text from Liv. Coffee's ready.

I text back: Be right there.

I pull on my suit jacket and shoes, then walk up the spiral staircase to my tower office to get my briefcase.

Sometimes I miss our little two-bedroom apartment on Avalon Street. Proud as I am of the work we've done on the b.u.t.terfly House, it's a d.a.m.n big place. When we're not in the same room, Liv usually calls or texts me from the kitchen or living room so she doesn't have to leave Nicholas alone or climb the stairs to the tower.

On Avalon Street, I used to be able to hear her rattling around the kitchen, humming, or I'd walk out of my office to find her reading in a chair by the French doors or watering plants on the balcony.

I used to be able to come up behind her, wrap my arms around her, bury my face in her long hair. Slide my hands between the folds of her robe and fondle her gorgeous b.r.e.a.s.t.s...

I stop the direction of that thought or I'll end up in the shower again.

After setting my briefcase on the foyer table, I go into the kitchen. Nicholas is at the table in his booster seat, eating cereal and a banana.

”Daddy!” He gives me a wave, his round-cheeked face breaking into a smile.

”Morning, buddy.” I stop to ruffle his hair. ”Sleep well?”

He nods and holds up a piece of cereal. ”Cheerio.”

”Yum.” I let him put the Cheerio in my mouth, which makes him laugh before he goes back to chewing on the banana.

I return to the kitchen, where Liv is at the stove cooking scrambled eggs. She's wearing her old padded robe, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. She turns to smile at me, though her eyes are wary.

”Morning.” I press a kiss to her cheek, inhaling her sweet, vanilla scent that goes straight to my blood.

”Morning,” she murmurs, lifting a hand to the side of my neck. ”Sorry about last night. Again.”

”Me too.”

After Archer's phone call, he'd brought Nicholas back home, and then our evening s.h.i.+fted into our usual routine revolving around dinner, picture books, and bedtime. Any faint hope I'd had about finis.h.i.+ng what Liv and I had started disappeared when I came back from putting Nicholas to bed and found Liv asleep on the sofa.

I rub my cheek against the top of her head. I know my wife. She'd been jacked up hard last night too. I'd felt her body straining and pulsing, the heat of her clenching around me so d.a.m.n tight...

I step away and look at her. She blinks. Amazing how she can still sometimes look so innocent.

”What?” she asks.

I glance back at Nicholas, who is dropping Cheerios onto the floor. I take Liv's arm and tug her into the living room, away from Nicholas's line of sight.

”Dean, what... oh!”

A shocked gasp catches in her throat as I push her up against the wall and plant my hands on either side of her head, penning her into the cage of my arms. I bring my mouth down on hers-hard and fast. She moans, her lips parting, her hands coming up to clutch the lapels of my jacket. A tremble rocks through her.

I reach for the belt of her robe and yank it open, lifting my head to gaze down at her plain pink nightgown. Her nipples are dark circles against the thin cotton. My c.o.c.k starts to stiffen again. I grab a fistful of her nightgown and pull it up to expose her hips. She gasps again, twisting toward the kitchen.

”Dean, we can't...”

I push my hand between her legs, edging one finger under her panties. Heat bolts through me. She's wet, still aroused from yesterday.

Liv curls her hand around my wrist, her breath coming faster. ”What are you... oh...”

Her eyes glaze with need as she thrusts her hips toward my hand, like she wants me to f.u.c.k her with my finger.

Of course she does. Before I f.u.c.k her with my c.o.c.k.

I circle my thumb around her c.l.i.t, ignoring the l.u.s.t burning through me. When I feel her start to strain harder, her grip tightening on my wrist, I pull my hand away and tug her nightgown back over her hips.

Liv stares at me, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s rising and falling with the force of her breath. ”What... what was that about?”

I put my hands on the wall behind her again, caging her in, and brush my lips gently across hers.

”Still hungry from last night?” I ask in a low voice.

”Oh, yes,” Liv says, putting her hand on my chest. ”That was so hot and felt so good.”

”Have you touched yourself lately, my beauty?”

Her breath catches. ”G.o.d, Dean.”

”Have you?”

”N-no.”

I narrow my eyes. ”You sure? All that talk about fantasies and buying your s.e.xy little lingerie. You're not diddling your p.u.s.s.y when you're alone, are you?”

”No,” she whispers, her brown eyes fixed on mine with both wariness and heat.

”You promise?”

”I promise.”

”Good. And you won't either.” I slip my hand between her thighs again, over her nightgown, and rub her c.l.i.t. ”I've done a lot of waiting for you, Mrs. West. And I'm getting tired of being left out in the cold. It's about time you learned a lesson about not finis.h.i.+ng what you start.”