Page 71 of The Clover Chapel (Jamison Valley 2)
“And?” I asked.
In two long strides, he crossed the room and plastered his body to mine. The hardness in his jeans was like stone against my hip. “And had I seen this dress, I would have fucked you again while it was bunched up above your ass,” he said before taking my earlobe between his teeth.
A shiver ran from the nape of my neck, down my spine and to my sex.
Dirty talk. Another favorite part of coming to Nick’s house at night. His verbal foreplay would continue all evening until I couldn’t take it anymore and either I dragged him upstairs to bed or I attacked him on the couch.
“You have my permission to try that later.”
With a groan, he ground his erection into my hip before lightly kissing my cheek and turning back to the stove.
My dress was a pale gray, form-fitted sheath with long sleeves. This morning it had been an article I rarely wore. Tonight it had just become a staple.
“What are you making?” I asked, boosting myself up on the counter.
“I did a pot roast in the Crock-Pot today.”
“Sounds delicious. What can I do?” I asked.
He set out a couple of plates and turned to me. “Nothing. Do you want some wine?”
“Is my name Emmeline Austin?”
After my first visit to his house, I’d made sure he had wine stocked so I wouldn’t be forced to drink whiskey again. I might not know my way around a kitchen, but a corkscrew was a different story.
The last two weeks had been spent mostly at Nick’s cabin when I wasn’t at work. He had asked if we could stay at his house instead of mine so he could monitor the fire station dispatch.
Apparently, his system was wired into the house, and moving it would have been a big hassle. Really, I think he missed his kitchen, where the cupboards were full of actual kitchen gadgets, not coffee mugs.
My place was still tainted by the break-in so I had been more than happy to get out of there. I went home every day to pick up wardrobe items but then came to Nick’s for dinner and sleep.
“How was your day?” I asked.
“Good. Quiet. You?”
“Wonderful. I love my kids. They had so much fun doing that full moon art project I told you about.”
Today, I had taught my class all about the moon. During the month of March, I was planning on introducing them to the entire solar system. We were slowly putting together a large model as we learned about the sun, moon and planets.
“Knew they would. Kids and finger paint. You can’t go wrong,” Nick said.
“True. I let them go crazy too. There was paint everywhere. Some of the kids even had it in their hair. And obviously I couldn’t send them home that way. So the dirty ones had a field trip to the high school locker rooms.”
“Right. And by some kids do you mean only Mason Carpenter?” he asked.
“That poor kid was just covered in paint,” I lied. Mason was spotless, unlike his classmates. “I just had to get his hair cleaned. Unfortunately, while I was washing, I accidentally spilled water all over his clothes. Clumsy me. Good thing I had some extras handy.”
For the last month, I had been manipulating my lesson plans so that I could get Mason washed at least once a week and into some clean clothes. Messy art projects. Spills during snack time. Whatever it took so that while the other kids were at recess, I could work some of the smell off him.
“Emmy, be careful. Don’t step on the social worker’s toes,” Nick said.
“I don’t know why it should matter. She’s not getting any results. Two random inspections and she hasn’t found anything. I’m not paranoid about this, Nick. Something is going on in that house. If she can’t do anything about it, I’m going to.”
“Don’t get defensive,” he said, coming to me at the counter. “I’m not saying what you’re doing is wrong. I just want you to be careful. If other parents notice Mason getting special treatment, it could cause you problems.”
My shoulders sagged. “I know you’re right. But I hate this. I hate feeling helpless. It’s like I’m the only one he has.”
He reached out and rubbed my arms. “Jess will take care of it. Trust him. If the social worker doesn’t get some results soon, he’ll start going there himself. If the aunt doesn’t start taking her guardianship seriously, he’ll make her life miserable. That shit doesn’t fucking fly in his town.”
