“Miss LeBlanc.”
“Mr. Batshit Crazy.” I gave him a slight nod, tucking myself into the black vehicle. Inside, there were champagne and two glasses, plush beige leather seats, and one grinning, gorgeous boyfriend still dressed in his work suit. I could get used to it, I thought. Which was why I had to tell him everything about what Dr. Hasting had told me. Already, I was being dishonest by not disclosing my fertility situation.
Dean poured me a glass of champagne and pushed the button of the divider, handing me my drink. He, himself, sipped bottled water.
“So,” he licked his lips and tugged at my wool hat, exposing my hair and tossing it aside, “you think your parents are going to like me?” he joked.
My parents already knew him. Worse, they were well aware that he had dated my sister. I wasn’t particularly hot on telling them about Dean and me. Knew they would jump on the opportunity to criticize me for this, too. But at the same time, I didn’t want to let them stand in my way of happiness.
“Honestly?” I took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ll be against us.”
“I don’t give a shit.” He crossed his long legs, entwining his fingers together, nonchalant. “Do you?”
I shook my head, realizing that making them proud was something I had given up on long ago. It’d been sealed and finalized during the week we spent in Todos Santos, but had been going on even before that.
“I need to stop by our building to grab my medicine and vest.” I rummaged through my bag to make sure my inhaler was there.
“No need.” He placed a hand over mine. “Got everything packed for you, baby. Pills, inhalers, nebulizer, vest. Other than packing a new set of lungs, you have everything you need here. Working on the latter, but the black market is slow these days.”
I looked up and grinned. “You are not going to like what I’m about to say,” I told him, and he frowned in a way that was completely extravagant to show me that he was already irritated.
“I don’t think you can eat me in here. You’re way too tall to pull this off. Even in this big limo.”
“I find challenges refreshing. They keep me young.” He loosened his tie and pulled the fabric of his dress pants over his knees, preparing to dive down. I stopped him with a hand on his lightly stubbled cheek.
“I’m also wearing really tight jeans.”
“I’ve been known to rip apart things that stood between me and your pussy, and I’ll be damned if twenty-dollar ASOS denim are going to deprive me of your pussy, love.”
Love. We still hadn’t said those words to one another, and not because we hadn’t felt them. We were both new to this feeling. To this life.
I pressed my forefinger to his lips and leaned into his face. “But I can go down on you.”
His eyes followed me dutifully as I sank down below him, my face leveled with his groin. If I was being honest, this part of our relationship was one of my favorite things about us. The deprived lust that sizzled between us. Like nothing was ever enough. Like doing dirty things in public places was a necessity, rather than something we needed to do to spice things up. Because with Dean Cole, you didn’t need any extra spices. He was already hot as hell.
I reached for his dress pants and took him out. His cock was half-mast, just like his smirk as he brushed some of my wild hair away from my face.
“Sometimes, when I think about how we could have been together all those years if you weren’t so fucking stubborn, I want to shoot you in the eye with my super sperm. You know that?”
I licked my lips, still holding his junk, feeling it swelling between my fingers as more blood rushed to it. “That’s the most disgusting compliment I’ve ever received,” I admitted.
“Maybe it’s because you didn’t strip it down to the meaning of its naked bones. You were always the one, Rosie. Before you even opened your goddamn mouth, I knew that I had to have you. And it took me a long time, but now that I own you—and let there be no mistakes, you’re mine, baby—nothing will come between us, get it?”
Best pep talk to a woman facing a huge one-eyed monster that was staring at her, waiting to be sucked. I leaned forward and licked the crown of his cock, screwing my tongue into the little slit before taking him all in. He jerked his hips forward and his head back, hissing through his pearly white teeth. “Holy fuck, Rosie.”
“Holy fuck and Rosie are synonyms. Save words. Only use one.” I served him the same sass he gave me just a couple months ago, and he laughed, a tortured kind of laugh from a brooding millionaire who had his dick inside the mouth of a sick, poor girl on their way to the airport.
He didn’t hold my hair and guide me like he usually did. Instead, Dean watched in a mixture of awe and fascination as I worked my magic on him, sucking him off with tender lips, giving him the love and devotion he deserved for being the best boyfriend a girl could have. Because he was. Everything I didn’t even know I could have.
I’m worthy.
I’m a catch.
And I’m about to show the world what a handsome, successful, funny, and smart man I’ve bagged.
After ten minutes of nonstop TLC to Dean’s cock, I heard him moan. “Shit, baby, I’m about to come.”
I massaged his thighs, giving him silent permission to do so in my mouth, and he sucked in a breath before wrapping his fingers around his shaft and milking his cum into my mouth. After he was done, I righted my spine and plopped on his lap. He kissed me on the lips, then nuzzled into my chest.
“That blowjob needs to go into the history books, Baby LeBlanc.”
“God, I’m glad you’re not the man in charge of our national education system.”
By the time we landed in San Diego and got to Todos Santos, it was the middle of the night between Friday and Saturday.
We went straight to bed and crashed in my room, burrowing into each other’s warmth. I slept with a smile on my face, knowing that I was about to see my sister. Emilia was showing—she sent me weekly pictures—and I couldn’t wait to stroke that Buddha belly and coo at it like the crazy aunt that I was.
True, Mama and Daddy were going to be a struggle, but all in all, my joy for my sister overrode the occasional bumping heads with my parents.
In the morning, I wandered out to the hallway, still in my PJs. Last night the housekeeper, Anna, opened the door for us, so I wasn’t even sure if my family was expecting me. I found out the answer to that question when I walked into the kitchen and saw Mama and Daddy reading newspapers at the table, drinking their coffee.
Mama lifted her head from her magazine. Daddy didn’t. Neither one of them looked surprised to see me.