Page 92 of Couple On Hold
After he downs the half a shot of whiskey left in the bottom of his glass, I stand to my feet and head to Regan. She notices my approach in an instant, her senses shifting up as her eyes scan my brooding frame. She does a good job acting disgusted by the casual tee and plain black shorts I’m wearing, but I see the extra flutter in her neck, the one that says she loves my casual look as much as she does when I’m not wearing a stitch of clothing.
Her frantic pulse grows when I stop to stand in front of her. She’s as beautiful as the day I first laid my eyes on her—just as stubborn as well—even more so when I ask, “Did you spike my drink?”
Her eyes snap to Isaac, who is watching our exchange with amusement slashed across his features. I have no doubt that, much like me, he never thought we’d vacation together. But that’s not the cause of his wary glance; it’s Regan asking, “You told him about that?!”
When Isaac answers Regan with a shrug, she whispers, “Which time?”
“There’s been more than once?”
Regan returns her eyes to mine faster than I can snap my fingers. She gives me her innocent, puppy dog look. It isn’t a look she can pull off. She’s as dark and as dangerous as Isaac; and just like him, she’s not ashamed to admit it.
“What? It loosens you up.” She drags her eyes down my body in a slow and seductive sweep. “Inallareas.” Her needy tone has my cock swelling so fast it hurts.
The gleaming grin on her face falters the instant her eyes land back on mine. Her breathing shifts to a pant as her lips part for much needed breaths. It’s been a year, yet she can still read my every thought.
“We’re in public,” she warns, thinking it will stop me. “You can’t dothathere.”
I take a step closer, popping the invisible bubble I never want between us. “Wanna bet?”
My reply pleases her more than it annoys her, but she acts coy. “What about the girls? They’re watching us.”
I shift my eyes to the left. Regan is right. All three of them are watching our exchange as eagerly as Isaac and Isabelle. I hesitate in my campaign. It lasts for barely a second. When cheers of encouragement leave Addison and Isla’s mouths, my crusade rises to an unprecedented level.
Regan stops snickering at the girls’ cat-calls and demands for me to “get her” when she notices the direction of my gaze. Her spine straightens as herdon’t take shit from no onemask slips over her face.
“I could have you arrested for brutality,” she warns, stepping back, bracing to run.
I lean in close, ensuring my words are only for her ears. “And I could arrest you for being so goddamn motherfucking sexy, but your wrists are still showing welts from the last time I cuffed you, so I must be patient.”
Regan smiles. I really wish she wouldn’t. I lost myself to this woman years ago, but she never stops taking. For every day we’re together, my love for her grows, which means she steals more of my soul.
Willing to compromise, I suggest, “Tell me what I want to hear, and I’ll save your spanking for another day.”
Regan’s lips brush the shell of my ear when she murmurs, “How about I tell you what you want to hear, and you save my spanking for tonight?” She shifts her eyes to Isaac, narrows them, then says, “When we’re alone because Isaac is watching the girls as payment for hissnitchingways.”
Isaac’s brows furrow as if disgusted by the thought of having three girls under the age of eight in his care, but something Isabelle whispers in his ear quickly changes his mind. I don’t care what Isabelle whispered to him, because when Regan’s glistening eyes return to mine, I don’t have a single fucking care in the world.
Right here, right now, nothing but hearing the six little words she’s about to whisper matters.
“I love you, Mister Fancy Pants.”
* * *
The end!
