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Michael I
Blue hadn’t so much as glanced from her meal since Vincent sat. Late. Though he struggled to fathom what he would say if she had. Would he dare to ask whether her shoulder had bruised from colliding with a doorway? If he had been right in assuming Richard had been the cause of the gash in her cheek? The scrapings on her elbow he’d gotten a better look at as she slept? Or had she suddenly become exceptionally clumsy? He suspected the man had a part at least in the fact she had become rather entertained by stirring her soup.
And as she excused herself for the bathroom, he got the feeling she had hoped he would follow. Though meeting her fiancé’s gaze warned him otherwise. So, he sat quietly.
—
She had hoped she would run into Vincent on her third loop of the hallways. If only for him to smile at her in passing. Somehow, she had liked Richard better when he was forcing himself on her.
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She mumbled solemnly. Stared into their twisted hands. Watched his thumbs brush hers absently. His cock straining his trousers. Shallow breaths working his buttoned blouse. “You’ve filed already?” “No.” Her gaze refused his. “Are you going to?” “Richard will work on me until I do—it’s so much more satisfying for him if it’s me to do it,” Finally, her eyes met his. “I told him we’d married during our first fight.” “He hit you because of that?” he looked as solemn as he ever had. Somehow mourning the misfortune of his wife more than he had the fact he was on the very brink of jail time. Again. Yet she smiled. A small, wry smile. “No.” Searched his eyes. “I said he has a god-complex and a tiny dick,” Before he could think any better of it, Vincent took the woman’s face between his two hands. Watched her smile fall. Breathed her anti
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“It’s funny.” Marian paused. “When I was about your age, I was pregnant, too.” Like Blue needed to be reminded.“By Michael, apparently.” The teenager mumbled. Unsure of whether her mother knew that her husband’s boss was the culprit, she decided it best not to make any rash revelations she’d regret not being able to renege.“I loved him…” Pausing, fingertips drumming the table, Marian cast her eyes to the lip of her daughter’s discarded breakfast plate. In that moment, Blue pitied the older woman. Wondered if things between them hadn’t been quite as fraught as they had seemed. Whether her muddied elitist childhood had narrowed her field of vision; it had. Rather, wondered by how much? Had her mommy issues multiplied into some twisted trauma due to moneyed entitlement? Was she little more than a spoilt brat?She suspect
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She spoke before she could stop herself. “Would you think any less of me if I got into trouble?” She wondered more if she would think any less of herself. If that was even possible. But the man smiled. A small, soft smile.“If I did, how would I have expected you to do the same?” His stomach flexed as it flattened to hers. The gentle throw of his groin sheathed inside of her was all the comfort she could ever ask for. Yet she begged the man a bit more.“It was never your fault,” If only the police had agreed.“And it wouldn’t be your fault,” He drew away. Sucked in a breath as she tensed on his joystick. Felt his chest tighten with her gasp of quiet encouragement. Shy. Uninhibited.“You don’t know what I did,”“I know you would have done it for me.” Staring
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