by Marie York
“I thought you could use a drink.”
I held up the bottle that was under my desk that I had hit up several times since I got up here. “Already had a few.”
“Damn. Here I thought I was bringing you something you needed.”
“You did.” She arched her eyebrow, and I held my hand out to her. “Come here.” I rested my head against her stomach, and she ran her fingers through my hair, bringing a calm over me that no amount of Jack could do. I lifted my head, and she cupped my cheeks. “The only thing I need is you.”
She sat on my lap, and I held her tight. “Gary would’ve been the last person I suspected.”
“Sometimes, people aren’t what they seem.”
“I know, but for a stupid kid, he was smart as shit. He fooled me.”
“He fooled everyone. Nobody expected him.”
“I suspected you over him, and I hate myself for even thinking it,” I admitted, needing to get the guilt off my chest. I was sick of keeping shit bottled up inside of me.
“I thought you trusted me?” she asked, and I hated myself for the disappointment in her eyes.
“I do. As soon as I saw you, the thought was gone.”
She brushed her fingers behind my ears, sending chills down my spine. “I meant it when I said you can trust me.”
“I know, and I’m sorry I doubted you for even a second.”
She took my chin in her hand, and urged my gaze to hers. “Don’t ever do it again.”
“I promise I won’t.” I kissed her, swiping my tongue across her crease, and begging for her to let me in. Desperate to taste her. To let her help me forget about this horrible fucking day. She parted instantly, and our tongues slid against each other hot and slick.
Lyla had the power to calm me. To make me forget about all the bullshit, and only think about her. Cole’s words echoed in my head. The one.
I pulled back, holding her face in my hands. “I love you,” I said, for the first time since I was eighteen, but this time it meant so much more because it was real.
Lyla’s lips curved up into the biggest sexiest smile. “I never thought I’d hear you say that. I love you, too.”
I ran my finger up the delicate curve of her cheek. “Always.”
She turned and kissed the inside of my hand. “Forever.”
The End
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About the Author
Marie York is an American writer who works the corporate circuit by day but come nightfall transforms into a steamy writer. She loves the city life and a good cocktail.
