"How did the party go?" Mom asks to distract from Dad's grumbling.

"It was fun," I say, and I mean it.

I had fun. I enjoyed something at a wedding event. Either the world is ending or Heath is growing on me. Not sure which I prefer, to be honest.

Dinner at my parents' house on a Saturday wasn't in my schedule, not that they care about my plans. I needed to drop off my dress, and they caught me. No escaping other than the demands of their current case.

Even though we have a rule of no business at the dinner table, that doesn't work well when a big case gets tricky. And, when your clientele is mainly Fortune 100 companies on retainer, tricky is the name of the game. Corporate law is wild.

Dad comes in from the next room with a dazed look on his face. He must be losing sleep over it, too. He sits with a sigh and picks up his glass of brandy. It's a hard liquor kind of night.

"How's everything going with the case?" I ask him.

"Not well," he answers, then takes a generous swig from his tumbler. "Always keep a client happy, and always keep them quiet. That's my advice." Cool.

Levi, is cleaning the table from our meal. Rowan has already left the table for his room. I'm on my own with Mom and Dad, just waiting for my opportunity to leave.

"So . . . We got our grades back for the summer semester last night. Ryan and I got a high pass for our trial performance." The pride I feel must show on my face. I wait for their rare praise.

"Very good, Teagan!" Dad says.

"Yes! Great work, darling!" my Mom agrees. She reaches forward and squeezes my hand in hers. "My perfect little girl. You always do well and we know you always will."

My skin warms with their words. "Thank you." I live for their validation. But I also fear losing it.

"And you received the top score, no doubt," he says.

My warmth cools. "Well . . . one team scored higher, but that's still out of 11 teams."

He hums as if he's trying to solve a riddle. "I figured you would be first. You always come in first. Ryan is dragging you down with him," Dad's snide remark comes while his focus returns to his phone.

While that's not completely untrue, it wasn't because of Ryan's performance. "It wasn't his fault. Something happened right before we went in," I attempt to explain. "A security guard—" Dad's ringtone ruins my sentence.

"Sorry, my darlings, I have to take this," Dad says as he rises from his seat. "I'm very proud of you, Teagan."

My smile twitches back up, but it doesn't quite remedy the downhill slide of my mood. I cross my arms over my middle, fighting the urge to nibble at my thumb. I'll satisfy my oral fixation later.

"Have you patched things up with Lenny?" my mother asks. My mood slips down the rest of the hill and lands in mud.

"Mom, no," I respond in a tone much softer than I'd like. "He's busy, I'm busy. You know how summers are."

"Yes, but you've had to have spoken to him sometime in the last month."

"We really haven't, but that's good. He's not mad and neither am I."

She sighs. "I don't mean to pressure you into anything with him." Yes, she does. "We just want to see you with someone who lifts you up and makes you happy."

"Really? You hate everyone Teagan brings home," Levi defends me.

"That is not true." Her lips scrunch to the side the way they do when she's upset with herself. Lawyers are rarely wrong. At least in their minds. While Levi takes the stack of plates to the kitchen, she adds, "That boy you were with in high school . . . He was a nice boy."

I want to laugh. "High school? That's the last time you liked someone I was with?"

"I liked him a lot! We all did. Right, Levi?" she calls to him.

"Hm?" Levi comes to my side again, this time to grab the glasses.

"Can we please drop this?" I beg her.

She sighs and takes a sip. "Well, the party will give you another chance to speak with Lenny if you can't catch him before then."

I wait for her sentence to make sense. "The party? Which party?"

"The banquet. We'll be hosting most of our clientele, potential clients. We're going to introduce him as a junior partner."

"Oh." Fucking fabulous. "Great."

Levi looks at me and smirks. I smack his arm as he rolls away.

. . .

Heath between my teeth takes my focus away from my intrusive thoughts. Instead, I focus on the smooth skin sliding from my throat over my tongue, his freshly showered taste, and the bit of saltiness at the tip. On top of him, straddling his face, I feel powerful again, in control of what—and who—I do. My time is mine to do with as I please, not shreds of moments unstolen by other people's demands.

Heath's fingers dig into my skin as he spreads me wide, his tongue licking lazy figure eights against my seam, the path broken occasionally by a languid suck of my clit. The warmth in my core makes me shiver with the desire for more. I hum with a full mouth and let him slip from my lips. I lean up, swirling my hips to slide myself over his relaxed tongue, increasing my pleasure until I melt.

I balance myself against his muscular, tattooed thigh while I stroke him with my other hand. He's rock-hard in both places. It would be wrong not to take advantage.

He whines when I crawl toward the condom by his hip, but stops quickly when I rip it open. I place him at my entrance, looking back at him while I slowly sink down.

He slides in easily, but his size makes me ache while I stretch around him. I widen my legs to press him deeper. When I settle onto his lap, we both moan.

Reverse cowgirl isn't usually my thing, but I like the way Heath stares at my ass when he's inside me. It makes a girl feel pretty. He probably wishes he was in my ass instead, but I don't care. His undivided attention is good enough.

I fall forward onto my hands and move my ass up and down. It doesn't hit where I want it, but I like to torture him sometimes.

"Shit, Teags," he moans, both hands on my ass, his eyes fixed on it. "What the hell are you trying to do to me?"

Not nearly as much as I want, I answer in my head. "Don't you dare come first."

He looks at me with a pitiful expression, then lets his head fall back.

I lean back up, placing my hands over his, and close my eyes to enjoy it. I sit and swirl my hips, stroking him deep inside. That feels pretty damn good. I reach down and give him a little massage. His legs flex and his grip tightens. The pleasure floods through me. I moan, getting my pleasure while giving him his.

Suddenly, the annoying ring of an iPhone blares. I ignore it the best I can, focusing on my rhythm. When the ringing stops, I change my posture and rub him against a needy spot.

His phone blares again. I stop and glare at him. "Could you turn your fucking phone off?"

He opens his eyes as if he didn't notice. "Yeah, sorry."

He sits up and reaches for it. The shift of his hips puts him in a place that makes my eyes roll back.

"Ooh, right there. Stay there like that." He does as I tell him, leaning back on one hand. He rolls his hips under me, matching my rhythm. His rigid length pushes hard against my front wall. "Fuck."

He runs his hand up and down my spine, leaving a shiver in its wake. "Is that good?"

My pussy quivers around him, the spark making my hips shudder on their descent. "Mmm. Yeah."

The phone rings again, and I want to scream. "Ignore it. Don't stop."

I stay as vertical as I can to do as he says, not wanting him to pull himself from the perfect spot I've been stroking. We go harder, the wet sounds of our bodies colliding mix with our heavy breaths and moans, drowning out everything else. Faster and faster, my body is on fire and I'm right on the edge.

"Fuck, Teags, I can't. I can't." His knees pop up when his legs tense, his hand grips my ass hard. That's all I need to fall over the edge.

My legs shake when the orgasm hits me. The pleasure is so blinding, I don't know if I'm moaning or screaming. He calls out, too, moving me up and down, rolling my orgasm through me with each stroke.

Our pace tapers off, the heat settles into a drunken warmth. Still hard inside me, I use what little energy I have to grind against him.

His hands drop from me, and he collapses onto his back. I look at him over my shoulder and smirk at how depleted he looks. His arms laid off the sides, his eyes closed. The only indicator that he's alive is the movement of his core as he pants.

Forget about my day, forget my parents' approval or lack thereof, forget my schedule of impending events, and this newly added Lenny Banquet. Right now, there's only one concern in my mind. "I'm gonna go pee. You okay?"

"What?" his voice is raspy like I woke him up from a nap. "Yeah, I'm good. Pee quick, I gotta . . ."

I wait for him to finish his sentence. "Gotta what?"

"I forgot." His eyes close again. I already know the idiot is going to fall asleep.

I laugh and grab my clothes from the floor. Glancing at his phone, the screen is full of calls and texts from "Mom." Now I'm really annoyed.

I love his mom. She is so kind, comforting, and warm—beautiful inside and out, as they say. Her features are so clearly Samoan in her gorgeous brown skin, and black waves down to her knees. Heath is the halfway point between her and his blonde-haired, blue-eyed dad.

When it rings again, I look over at Sleeping Beauty and yell, "Heath!"

"What?"

"It's your mom calling. Answer it."

"Shit," he murmurs and fumbles with his phone. I leave him for the bathroom.

I do my business, wash my hands, put on my underwear and hop into my pants. I still hear him talking through the door when I realize my shirt is missing. Not wanting to interrupt, I peek out of the door but spot it at the end of the bed. I can't grab it until he moves. Dammit.

"I can't do this right now, Mom. I don't want to talk to him. You have to do it." He scrubs a hand over his face, letting his fingers tangle into his hair. Whatever they're talking about is really stressing him out. "Eventually, I don't know, but not today. I have to go. I love you." He ends the call and his hand joins the other to press against his forehead.

"Is everything all right?" I ask him. He looks at me for a moment as if chewing on his words. When he looks away, I decide not to press it further. "Sorry, forget I asked."

"It's fine. Just parent drama again." He grabs his pants and hands me my shirt.

"Are they finally getting a divorce?" I attempt to joke.

He lets out a weak laugh. "I wish."

We pull our clothes in silence. The air feels heavy with unspoken words. But what am I supposed to do? Talking isn't in our agreement. It's only coming and going. Emphasis on the coming.

He stretches his shirt over his arms to pull it over his head. I frown when his body disappears from view. He looks at me and pauses. ". . . I have to get going," he prompts.

"Oh, yeah, no. I'm ready."

We awkwardly leave the room together. I grab my purse from the kitchen counter as I pass by. Outside the door, I swing it over my head and settle it into place while he locks the door.

"See you Wednesday," I say as a reminder. "It's in the calendar."

"Yeah," he turns around. "Let me know if you want to do tomorrow though." A flirtatious grin returns to his face. There's the Heath we all know and tolerate.

"Will do." 

_____

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