“I know,” I say glumly. “But it’s only been a few weeks. I’ve got years ahead of me.”

  “You have a husband pushing you to do something.”

  “I thought you didn’t like Vince,” I say curiously. She seems to be his champion today.

  “I can’t stand Vince,” she says freely. “But he’s right to be making you think about your future.”

  “I got a job interview set for tomorrow,” I say as I change the subject and turn away from the window to start my pacing around Walsh’s apartment. I stop in my tracks when I see Walsh standing there just outside the elevator.

  Memories of that first night he brought me here play in vivid flashback, and I start walking to him with a little sway in my hips.

  “Gotta go,” I tell Elena softly. “Walsh is home.”

  “Wait a minute—” she says, but I disconnect the call. She’ll forgive me.

  I pocket my phone as I near him, his eyes watching me with dark curiosity.

  “You’re home early,” I murmur as I reach him, my hands going to the belt on his dress slacks. As I start to pull it free, I add, “Looks like you had an exhausting day. Let me make it better for you.”

  His lips quirk at the lame come on, but he doesn’t stop me as I undo his pants after dropping his belt. And Walsh in no way looks like he had a hard day. He looks as fresh and GQ handsome as he did when he left early this morning.

  He’s thick and hard when I pull him free of his briefs, and I drop to my knees with my hand wrapped around his girth. Without hesitation, I take him in my mouth as I look up at him and start to move. I lick and suck, squeezing and stroking him with my hand. I expect him to take over at any moment now, but he just watches me from above with lust on his face.

  It’s like that with us always, and I hope to fuck it never changes.

  Walsh lets me do my thing. He doesn’t take over, but his hands do come up to gently frame my face. I move on him slowly, savoring every little groan I drag out of this normally stoic man. I flutter my tongue on the sensitive underside just below the head of his cock, and press my tongue into the slit. My hand moves his balls, and I gently squeeze them as I work his shaft.

  And when he comes with a strangled moan, his hands clutching at my hair, I watch in pure enjoyment as the pleasure washes over his face, hardens his jaw, and makes his throat go taut as he strains with release.

  Fucking beautiful.

  When he pulls out of my mouth, he yanks me up off the ground, bends over, and throws me into a fireman’s carry. He heads straight for the bedroom, and I smile with anticipation.

  ♦

  I collapse on top of Walsh, my heart hammering because that was some intense shit. The normally in control alpha man came home today with the idea in mind to let me play. He let me blow him in slow fashion, and then he put me in a straddle over his waist on the bed, lowering me down slowly onto his cock after he recuperated while he ate me out.

  It was perfect. I rode him slowly at first, but then the lust and need took over and I bounced up and down on him with abandonment as I made all kinds of gibberish sounds.

  Walsh’s hands come to stroke my lower back gently as we let our systems cool down, our breathing come back to normal, and our hearts to get out of stroke territory.

  When he rolls me to my side and faces me, I give him a smile. “You’re home early.”

  “It was a slow day at the office,” he says, and I wonder what that means. Did he just make hundreds of thousands of dollars in property deals, or millions? He’s so damn successful, but I don’t really know what that means.

  “What do you want to do tonight?” I ask. I don’t tell him I wanted to make him dinner because it smacks of domesticity too much, and I don’t want him to think I’m wanting more.

  But God, I want more from him. These last few weeks have taken the fond love I’ve had for this man over the years, mixed it with the deepest intimacy I’ve ever experienced in my life, and intensified it into something that’s beyond description.

  Elena was right to push at me, but I’m afraid to move. What I want from Walsh isn’t going to happen according to him. He’s too set on the fact that Micah won’t approve. Of course, I could just approach Micah on the sly and tell him what’s going on. The abbreviated, PG version so he doesn’t want to kill Walsh, but Micah loves me. He wants me to be happy.

  If I did that, though, it would break the trust Walsh has in me. We agreed this would be our secret, and Walsh kept the secret of what happened that night to me all these years. I can’t do that to him.

  I note that Walsh doesn’t answer me, so I prod him with a sassy grin. “Netflix and chill?”

  He smiles back at me, but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes. “How come you didn’t tell me Vince called?”

  I’m so stunned by this change of subject that for a moment I can’t figure out how he knows that. Then it hits me… he must have been standing outside that elevator for a few minutes and heard my conversation with Elena.

  The answer to his question hits me hard, though, and I gently chastise. “Come on, Walsh… you have to know it’s hard to talk about one man while fucking another.”

  I expect him to be ashamed a little, but he pointedly reminds me, “Not if there aren’t strings attached to the one man. Besides, we’re still friends, right?”

  “Um… yeah. Sure,” I tell him hesitantly and with a little pain throbbing in the center of my chest. “Yesterday morning, and he’s been texting.”

  Walsh studies me for a moment, and I feel like his words are carefully measured when he says, “I don’t want to stand in the way of your marriage.

  “You’re not,” I hastily assure him.

  My eyes drop to Walsh’s chest and my fingers come up to skim over the hard planes. When I look back up to him, I say, “I need you to let me have this for a while without pressure about Vince. I’m trying to figure myself out, and I’m happy right where I am. I know this is only ‘for now’ and not ‘forever,’ but I’m just not ready to give him a chance. I’m not sure I ever will.”

  In fact, if I had to go with my deepest gut instinct, it’s over between me and Vince. I’d like to think I’d fight for my marriage, and Vince was right… we had a lot of great memories. But we have one inherent difference I can’t get over. Forget about the sex issue. He doesn’t want kids, and I’m not sure that will ever change about him. If I had to have one serious talk with Vince about the future of our marriage, it would be about that, and I’m convinced that’s not changed. Every function we’d ever been at together, he always sneered at the little kids, shied away from holding a baby, and mocked his friends who were going through teenager woes. He just doesn’t like kids, and that’s intolerable to me.

  Another moment of silence, and then Walsh nods. I pretend not to notice that I think I saw a flicker of relief in his eyes over my words, because that would give me too much hope.

  “You have a job interview tomorrow?” he asks.

  I nod. “With the local paper in Henderson. It’s still a copyediting position, which I’m not fond of, but it’s a way to make some income while I continue to look around.”

  “You’re looking to stay in Henderson?” he asks.

  “For now,” I return vaguely. I didn’t dare look for anything in Vegas, because while Walsh has opened his home freely to me, I don’t want it to appear I want or expect more. I know there’s nothing that will scare him off faster.

  “I have some contacts with some local media here in Vegas if you want me to reach out,” he says, and this surprises me.

  I try not to read too much into it, so I just say, “Thanks. That would be awesome.”

  His smile is bigger, and I don’t know what that means either. I take care not to get hopeful, because I have a feeling Walsh could crush me.

  Vince hurt me. Shamed me.

  But Walsh will destroy me if I don’t keep a tight lock on my heart.

  “Let’s order in dinner,” Walsh suggests. “And then watch movies.”

  “Netflix and chill,” I say again with a grin.

  “You know that means sex, right?” he asks.

  I blink at him in confusion. I’d heard the term a lot, and I just thought it meant chilling on the couch and watching movies.

  But I’m okay with the sex, too. “Of course, I know that means sex. Duh… what did you think I thought it meant?”

  Walsh barks out a laugh and leans forward to give me a hard kiss. It’s one of my favorite things about him… when I amuse him to the point of spontaneous displays of pure affection. Not saying that it’s better than the orgasms he gives me, but it feels damn good.

  Rolling over, Walsh snags his phone off the nightstand and does a quick check of his messages. He may be technically out of the office, but the man never stops working.

  After a few moments, he turns to look at me with a grim look on his face. “Micah texted a little bit ago. He’s coming to Vegas this weekend to visit.”

  “Oh,” I say as conflicted feelings overwhelm me. I’m beyond excited to see my brother. We visited each other regularly when I was in L.A. and he was in San Francisco. But it’s been a few months and I would love to see him.

  On the other hand, that means Walsh and I will have to cool it with each other, and that just plain sucks. We’ll also have to pretend and put on an act, and that sucks as well. The secret Walsh and I kept about the night I was attacked was easy. This is going to be much harder.

  “I’m going to need you to go back to Elena’s for the weekend,” he says, and I hate the slightly icy tone in his voice.

  “Yeah, absolutely,” I say quietly. “Not a problem.”

  Walsh’s expression softens, and he pulls me too him. “It’s just for a weekend, okay?”

  “Of course,” I say with a cheery smile that strains my cheek muscles to make it. “It’s totally fine.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Walsh

  “Want another drink?” I ask Micah as he lounges on my couch and takes the final swallow of his scotch. He flew in about an hour ago, and we’re waiting for Jorie to arrive to go out to dinner tonight. My nerves are on edge. I definitely want another drink.

  “Nah, man,” Micah says as he pushes up from the couch and moves to take his glass back into the kitchen that opens straight from the living room. “Tonight’s not about getting drunk. It’s about hanging out with my two favorite people in the world.”

  I smile at him and nod, my stomach clenched.

  “But just so you know,” he says with a laugh. “Jorie’s my first favorite, you’re my second.”

  “As it should be,” I reply, and hope that sounds casual enough.

  Micah rinses his glass out and sets it on the counter. As he walks back into the living room, he says, “And besides… I figure tomorrow night, you and I are going to hit the town, right?”

  “You know it,” I say as I push up from the chair, head straight to the wet bar, and replenish my vodka. There is not enough alcohol in the world to get me through this weekend. I take a healthy slug as soon as I cap the bottle.

  “Dying to go to The Wicked Horse,” Micah says with excitement in his voice. “Want to meet Jerico, too. He and I have been emailing about testing out some more of my designs in his club. Plus, you and me, dude… we haven’t had a woman together in a long time. Your stories about the stocks… we’ve got to hit that, man.”

  My shoulders tighten and my gut rolls with nausea. How in the fuck I am going to weasel out of this is beyond me, but I’ve got to figure something out. I don’t want another fucking woman other than Jorie.

  “Walsh?” Micah says in question, and I turn to look at him. “We good with going there tomorrow night?”

  “Damn straight we are,” I say with a smile. “A night of debauchery for the both of us.”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Just then, the elevator doors give a slight hiss as they open, and Jorie is standing there. She looks fucking amazing, wearing a dress done in large black-and-white zebra stripes that’s loosely belted around her waist and comes down to her knees. She’s got on a pair of sexy-as-shit taupe heels to go with it and my mouth waters as I take in what they do to her legs. Hair in that sleek, angled bob that hangs halfway in between her jaw and shoulders, and that thick crop of bangs straight across her eyebrows make her green eyes brighter than ever.

  I swallow hard and try to appear casual.

  Her eyes go immediately to Micah, and she gives a squeal of excitement. He rushes to her, picks her up, and swings her around. The skirt of her dresses rises a bit in the back, and I look away guiltily.

  “God, I missed you, squirt,” Micah says with a choked voice. My guilt intensifies over the naked display of love and affection he has for his sister.

  Jorie’s voice quavers with equal love. “I missed you, too.”

  She hugs him hard and looks over his shoulder at me. Her eyes are wary and nervous.

  When Micah releases her, I step up and casually say, “Got a hug for me?”

  It’s a shameless move to touch her, but not something that would raise Micah’s eyebrows. I’ve hugged Jorie a million times over our lives together growing up.

  “It’s good to see you again,” she says to me as she walks into a very brotherly hug. I make the mistake of inhaling her scent, and I’m hit with a jolt of lust for her.

  After we quickly release each other, she steps back and surveys my apartment as if it’s her first time. She told Micah we met for breakfast one day, but he sure as shit doesn’t know I’ve fucked her on almost every piece of furniture in this apartment. He’ll never know she went to her knees right where we’re standing in front of the elevator and swallowed every drop of cum I gave her.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  I have an overwhelming urge to fake a stomachache, a migraine, a goddamn stroke for all I care at this moment, and beg off from this entire weekend.

  Instead, I put a smile on my face and tell them, “Come on. We’ve got prime seats in Moulineaux tonight. I’ve not eaten there yet, but heard it’s amazing.”

  Jorie smiles back at me before turning to hook her arm through Micah’s. She leans over and puts her head on his arm as she’s too short to reach his shoulder. They both stroll into the elevator.

  This night can’t get over with fast enough for me.

  ♦

  “God, I’m stuffed,” Jorie says as she licks the last of her chocolate mousse off her spoon and thank God, we’re sitting at the table so no one can see my arousal. I’m not sure what it says about me that I’ve been like this most of the night, just sitting across the table from this beautiful creature.

  “This was really good,” Micah says in agreement as he pushes his own empty dessert flute away. He picks up his scotch, which I think might be his fourth of the night, and swirls it around before taking a sip. So much for not drinking tonight.

  When he sets it back down, he turns to Jorie and asks, “Have you decided on anything with Vince?”

  I immediately tense up at the personal question leveled at his sister right out of the blue, and I guess the liquor is making him too loose with his words.

  “We’ve talked a little,” she says easily, but I notice the tightness just around the corners of her mouth. “He wants me to come back.”

  Micah doesn’t know the details of what happened. Only Elena and I know Vince kicked her out of the home because he didn’t like her performance in bed. Jorie only told him that they separated per Vince’s request and he asked her to leave.

  “And are you?” Micah presses her.

  Her eyes cut to mine before going back to her brother. “Now’s probably not the best time to talk about it.”

  “Why not?” Micah says, turning to look to me for a moment, then back to Jorie. “I’m your brother. Walsh is as good as a brother. We care about you.”

  God, I want to shoot myself.

  Jorie nods and gives a confident smile. “Well, okay… in that case, I don’t think I’m interested in reconciling. I’ve been using this time on my own to evaluate what I want, and I’m pretty sure it’s not marriage to Vince.”

  “He hurt you,” Micah says tenderly. “I get that. Some things can’t be undone.”

  Jorie’s eyes turn soft as they soak in her brother’s words, and then I’m fucking ripped wide open when she says, “Vince doesn’t want children. We might have been able to repair everything else, but it’s something I very much want one day.”

  Micah’s hand crosses the table and takes Jorie’s. He squeezes it and leans toward her. “You would make a fucking fantastic mother. You get back out there, find the love of your life, and make beautiful babies, okay? I can’t wait to be an uncle.”

  Jorie’s smile back to him is bright, and there’s no tightness at all around her mouth now. “I will, Micah. I promise.”

  I swear to God I’m going to throw up. How could I not know this about Jorie? I’ve had my cock in her ass, my cum in her pussy, but I didn’t know how she strongly she wanted children. I mean… I assumed she might, but I had no clue it was a bone of contention with her husband. It goes far deeper than I ever imagined.

  Moreover, how in the hell can I keep this up with her when she wants so much out of life, and I can’t be the one to give it to her?

  But man, if we had babies together, they’d be stunning.

  I shake my head and stand up from the table in a little lurch. My head swims with the implications of what I’m doing with Jorie and what she’s failing to get. Vince is a non-issue to me now. I’d worried I was perhaps blocking her from her soul mate or something, but it’s clear he’s not the guy for her.

  It’s even clearer I’m not the guy, either. Or at least, I can’t be that guy for her. Micah wouldn’t understand.

  Or would he? my subconscious pipes up.

  I ignore it and toss my napkin on my chair. “I’m going to use the restroom. Be right back.”

  Both Micah and Jorie smile at me. Micah totally nonplussed, but I can see the worry for me in Jorie’s eyes. She knows that conversation just bothered me, but I can never tell her how much or why.