Page 17 of For the Night
“Oh, I know it.” She looped her arms around my neck.
“You’re not bad yourself.” I slid my hands under her sweater, tugging it off her.
“Everything I know, I’ve learned from you.” Her hands tugged at my shirt until I pulled it off.
“I must be a good teacher, then.”
“The best. Or at least I think you are.”
I frowned. “You think?”
“Well, I was a virgin. You’re all I know.”
I ground my dick against her. “I’m all you’ll ever know.”
She smiled. “What more could I want?”
God, I hoped that I’d continue to make her happy. That I wouldn’t fuck up, because I didn’t want her to want anyone but me for as long as we lived.
“You know, Miranda, whatever you want, I will give you. You have my heart.” I kissed her neck. “My body.” I kissed the other side of her neck. “My soul.” I looked down at her. “You have all of me.”
“Then I have all I could ever want or need. Except maybe an orgasm. I do love it when you give me those.”
I laughed. “You’re insatiable.”
“Do you mind?”
“Hell no.”
I took her in my arms, and with my body, I showered her with love and affection, and of course, all the orgasms she wanted. And in return, she gave me life and love, and yes, orgasms.
EPILOGUE II
Lindsay
I was often asked if it was weird that my father and my friend were now married and had a baby. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't. But most of the time, I didn’t think about it. When I was with Miranda, she was my friend. And when I was with my dad, he was my dad.
Now that they were married, it was sometimes a little weirder because it was hard to keep their roles separate. As long as I didn’t think about them having sex, I was usually okay. Mostly, I was happy for them. And of course, I loved my new little brother, Grayson.
I tried to focus on this as I sat with all of them in the living room, listening to Christmas music and making Christmas ornaments, Miranda's idea of a new family tradition. This was our first Christmas as a family, and I wanted it to be perfect for them. So I plastered on a smile, even though my problems weighed heavily on me.
A month ago, my on-again, off-again boyfriend was killed in my house. It still sent chills down my spine to wonder what would happen if I had been there. Or if Oliver, Liam's brother, had been there. I couldn’t figure out why Liam was there as I’d kicked him out yet again.
I still grappled with wondering why he couldn’t change. What hold had the people he worked with held over him that he was willing to risk his life and break the law just for money? I finally decided it was the money and power.
So many nights, Oliver and I would stay up together, worried sick about Liam, and he’d saunter in, cocky and high on something, acting like we were a bunch of whiny pansies. I wanted to help him, but he wouldn’t listen. Even when I ended up caught up in one of his schemes and was nearly arrested, he didn’t care. He thought I was overreacting to be upset.
From that time until just before Thanksgiving, he was in and out of my home like a revolving door because I kept hoping that this time, he would change. The last three times, Oliver, who still rented a room in my place, told me not to take Liam back. But I couldn’t say no, and so Liam would move back in with me until everything went horribly wrong. Thank God Oliver wasn’t one to say, “I told you so.” Instead, he’d listen when I’d scream in anger. Or hold me when I cried. Oliver was the only reason I had been able to stand up to Liam that final time.
Why he was in my house when he was killed, I don't know because I had finally resolved that I was done with him. Did he think he could just show up and all would be well? Had he left something there that he was looking for?
“How’s this?” My father held up a paper chain of multicolored paper.
“Very Christmassy,” I said.
He winked.
"It looks like someone here needs to go to bed,” Miranda said, looking down at Grayson sleeping in her arms.
