“Back off, short stack. He’s my father.” Though his words were teasing, Blake’s eyes were stern.
“Well, that doesn’t make it right.” I stood, placing pressure on my lower back while leaning backward to stretch, causing my pink satin undies to peek out from the bottom of Blake’s T-shirt.
Blake’s gaze settled on the curve of my ass before he peeled it away to look me in the face. “Can’t you just support me?”
I stopped moving and put my hands on my hips, staring down at him. “That’s exactly what I am doing.”
He sighed. “Angel, I’ll make a good living for us when I’m done. You’ll be able to have anything you want.”
I bent so we were eye level. “I already have all I want. I’m not superficial. I chose my major so I could make a good living without the help of a man. And I don’t need to have a miserable husband so I can be dripping in diamonds.”
“I know you’re not—Hey . . .” Blake caught my wrist when I turned to walk away.
I looked down at him. “Do what you want. I’m done trying to help.”
In the kitchen, I filled a glass and went to the balcony to water Blake’s forget-me-nots. I stood with the cup, staring at the wilted box, and then decided to dump it in anyway before returning inside. Rubbing the cold from my arms, I stood before Blake with a frown. “Your babies are dead.”
He remained focused on the screen, a smirk playing on his lips. “They’ll be fine. Have some faith.”
I nudged his knee. “Are you done wasting your time?”
Blake scrambled to grab the computer before it fell from his lap. He huffed. “You’re taking all those psych classes. That can’t be what you want to do, but you’re doing it so you can be successful, yes?”
“Of course that’s what I want to do.” I frowned at him. “It interests me. I can’t make a living writing poems, and I’m not going to be a famous singer either.”
“You could make a decent living doing either of those things. You’re really good at both. But instead, you take those boring-ass psych classes to become something you’re not, trying to prove something to . . .” He cocked his head. “Who are you trying to prove something to?”
I dug my fingertips into my hips and lifted my chin. “No one . . . myself . . . this isn’t about me.” I turned and marched down the hall.
He followed close on my heels. “It’s as much about you as it is me.”
“No, it’s not.” I turned, pointing a finger. “I made my own decision to become a psychiatrist. You’re just a puppet.” I clapped my hand over my mouth, sorry the instant the words left my lips.
Blake squared his shoulders, hurt shadowing his eyes. “Is that what you think of me?”
“No . . . Yes . . . No . . . Blake! Come on. Think about how you’re wasting your time. I hate watching you do this. I only say it because I love you. You deserve to be happy.”
“I am happy.” Suddenly, the disappointment in his eyes vanished and he stepped closer. He trailed his fingers down the crevice between my breasts.
“I’m not talking about that,” I stuttered, feeling lightheaded already. “Don’t distract me. Sex won’t make you happy when you’re working eighty hours a week and you never get to see me.”
“Sex will always make me happy, Angel.” He forced my back against the wall.
“You’re not taking me seriously,” I huffed.
His heated gaze bore into mine. “Oh, I’m taking you. Seriously.” Without notice, Blake bent, scooping me behind the knees, and wrapped my legs around his waist as he pressed into me. He nibbled my collarbone and licked a trail up the side of my neck, nipping the edge of my jaw.
“Blake . . .” Damn him!
“Oh, say my name, baby. Just like that. Scream it.” He scrunched his nose, biting down on his bottom lip, and ground into me.
I whimpered against his neck.
He yanked my shirt up and over my head and then his warm breath teased my ear as he fingered the strip of silk at my core. “You insulted me,” he whispered.
I closed my eyes and let the sensation engulf me. “I’m sorry. I love you. You know that.”
“Show me how much.” Blake slipped his finger under the material and dragged it across the seam of my wet silken folds. “I’m gonna make this * sing.” He pushed his boxers down, and I felt the roundness of his ass under my calves. Moving my panties aside, he snaked his arms up my back and cupped my shoulders. Then he pushed upward, impaling me in one swift motion.
I gasped, feeling so full so quick, but Blake didn’t move. He applied pressure to my shoulders, still pushing up with his groin until he was in me to the hilt. He shoved his tongue in my mouth, and I clawed at his back, dragging my nails up to fist his hair.