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“I think you owe me for starting the morning on a sober note, don’t you?” She gives me a wry smile.
This woman is insatiable, and I fucking love it.
Without warning, I flip Marlow onto her back, settling above her with my legs on either side, locking her arms in place over her head. “I’m going to fuck you nice and slow, and then take you to the best breakfast spot in New York.”
“That’s a start,” she says, smirking.
I might not be able to change Marlow’s past, but I’ll damn well do everything in my power to shield her from being treated like that in the future.
25
MARLOW
“HEY, MARLOW?”
“Hey, lolabug?”
“Um… Why is Waffles jumping on Daddy?”
What?
I sprint to the window overlooking my backyard, and sure enough, Dylan’s lying flat on his back on the deck. Waffles is standing over him, licking his face.
Dylan got back from New York an hour ago and was eager to have another training session with Waffles. He wanted to do it while the training videos he watched on the plane were fresh in his mind. From what I can see, they’re not proving very helpful.
I open the back door and stick my head outside. “You guys okay back here?”
Dylan props himself up on his elbows to look at me. “Yeah.” He glances at Waffles. “I think we’ve had enough for today, don’t you, boy?”
Waffles barks loudly in response, sprinting toward me. I barely manage to step aside as he runs past me into the kitchen where Lola’s standing with open arms.
“Hey, Waffles. I missed you,” she exclaims.
Based on their reunion, you’d think they’ve been separated for decades, not a few days.
Quinn watched Waffles while I was in New York over the weekend. Thankfully, he was well-behaved, except for an unapproved visit to Main Street Market. He must have had a craving for meatballs.
“How’d it go?” I ask Dylan when he comes inside.
“We’ll get there eventually,” he says with determination.
I have no doubt he’ll keep at it until Waffles learns to follow commands.
“Thanks for your help.” I squeeze his arm in appreciation as he slides past, the desire to touch him—however innocent—is overwhelming. Judging by the banked heat in his eyes, he’s feeling something similar.
“Daddy, Marlow, I have something to tell you,” Lola says, impatiently waiting for us to listen.
“What is it, ladybug?” Dylan asks.
“At school today, Ms. Thornberry told our class that the older kids are doing a play called Allie in Wanderland.”
“I think you mean Alice in Wonderland,” I gently correct her.
Since Dylan had to stay in New York an extra day, Johanna and Mike flew home with Lola yesterday. She spent the night at their place, and Johanna dropped her off at school this morning. I offered to pick her up, giving me a chance to see her and Dylan this afternoon.
Ms. Thornberry sent me home with a newsletter with all the details for the upcoming play the fifth graders are putting on. Their teacher asked the first graders to take part in non-speaking roles.
“Yes!” Lola’s eyes light up. “I’m going to be a daisy,” she squeals with delight.
