Page 25 of Some Sort of Love (Happy Crazy Love 3)
“Yes,” she said, her face grave. “It’s how the Nixon sisters seal deals, and we take it very, very seriously.”
“You have my word. We will go skiing.” I squeezed her tiny finger with mine—not too hard, since I probably could have snapped the delicate bones—and allowed myself the brief fantasy of making out with her in an outdoor hot tub while it snowed.
Then I had to adjust my pants again.
She took a small sip of her martini. “How was Scotty’s week? Get that math homework done?”
I groaned. “Barely. Homework is always a struggle. But he had a good week too, I think. There was one episode at school where he got frustrated and threw his pencil, but nothing major.”
“Good.”
“The thing is, he notices the difference between himself and the other kids now, academically. He compares himself and sees that he struggles to do basic things they breeze through.”
“Poor thing. Any word on the IEP?”
I clenched my jaw. “No. And I’ve called every day for two weeks. I’m beginning to think I need to just go in there and be an asshole until I get an answer on what’s taking so long.”
She sipped her drink again. “Have they told you what the holdup is?”
“I’ve been told it’s ‘administrative,’ which I think is code for bullshit. And I hate to be a jerk about it, but…” I shrugged. “I have to. I’m the only soldier he’s got. He won’t fight for himself. He just gives up.”
She set down her glass and patted my shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing. At least, I think you are.”
“Thanks. OK, enough about that. Tell me something fun you did this week.”
She tilted her head to one side and chewed her bottom lip as she though
t. “Oh! I attended a sign language workshop. We have a few patients and parents at the office who use it, so I decided to learn some basics.”
“Oh yeah? I know a little sign language. It was part of Scotty’s speech therapy when he was younger.” I set my drink down and signed a few words at her, the only ones I could remember, which were basic things like please, more, play, toy, Dad. “Know what I’m saying?”
She looked adorably baffled. “Nope,” she confessed, laughing a little. “I have no idea.”
“Good, because it’s so dirty.”
Squealing, she grabbed my hands and pushed them down between us. “Hush, then. What if someone in here speaks sign language?”
“Then they’d know what I want to do to you right now.”
Her jaw dropped. Our eyes stayed locked. “Like what?” she whispered.
“You sure you want to hear it out loud?”
She took a breath. “Maybe you could whisper it to me.”
I leaned toward her and put my lips to her ear. “I want to set you up on this bar, throw your legs over my shoulders, and bury my tongue in your pussy.”
She gasped and brought a hand to her stomach.
So much for the gentleman.
“Then I want to pull you onto my lap and watch you slide down onto my cock.”
She made a small noise just then, something between a sigh and a squeak.
“I’d like to make you come so hard you forget to breathe. Would you like that?” I brushed my lips against her throat, just beneath her ear.
“Yes,” she whispered.
