“Fuck, Sergei, fuck.”
“Mm-hmm.” He eased back a bit, moving his hand from the breasts he’d exposed. She thought perhaps he was unzipping his fly, because she ached for his penetration. To have him between her legs, loving her inside the way he did her outsides, but then the hand inside her slipped out, too, leaving her at an unsatisfied peak.
He eased her legs apart more, then let them fall, and stood, his erection evident against his khakis.
She opened her mouth to ask him to finish, but his lips came down over hers, crushing them, transferring her taste to her tongue. He kissed her hard, probing his tongue in forcefully, and ended with a stinging tug of her lip between his teeth.
Gasping for air, she eased up onto her elbows to watch him stride toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
He stopped, hand on the knob. “Figured I’d get a last meal before getting tossed back into the friend zone. I’ll take a cab to my car. Don’t worry about getting up.”
The door closed behind him, and she blinked with confusion. Next came the dull ache of her neglected sex, waiting for the release that wouldn’t come. Then came the realization that he had no intention of making her come.
She yelled, loudly and wordlessly, thrashing her arms and legs against the mattress.
Kicking and screaming indeed.
Chapter 17
“So, Megan, explain this to me in simple terms,” Mom demanded. She perched atop a large box of books Meg had just taped closed and loosened her fingers from the work gloves she’d donned to help Meg pack her home.
The condo was going on the market. Not that Meg knew where she was going, but the sensible step one was to de-clutter and move some things into storage. Her real-estate agent didn’t think the unit would be on the market long, given it was in such a desirable building and had a fabulous view of downtown Raleigh, but they figured better safe than sorry.
“Okay. Simple terms.” Meg shifted her weight and locked her gaze onto the rug’s pattern, thinking about the past couple of months and how they’d damn near broken her. She hadn’t thought it was possible for there to be anything lower than rock bottom. “I married Sergei, Seth, so people would stop seeing me as a laughingstock. I thought if I could show I’d moved on, they’d move on, too, and find someone else to pick at.”
She waited for the fallout, for the scolding, or a long-suffering sigh, or anything. Nothing came.
“Aren’t you going to say something? You had plenty to say after I took Spike home.”
Mom entwined her fingers atop her lap and stared at her daughter. It was the same stare Mom had given when she and Stephen made too much noise in church as kids. The same stare that sent Meg up to her room to change her clothes when Mom didn’t approve of Meg’s choices. The same ice-cold look she’d given her when Meg, in a period of self-doubt, had her stylist apply a permanent, dark brown dye to her red hair at age sixteen. That dye hadn’t suited her any more than Spike had.
“Say something, Mom.”
Mom blinked, and directed her gaze to the floor. “I don’t know what to say. What to feel.”
“Why would you feel anything at all?”
“Because I have a heart. Do you know how many times in the past week I’ve had a little boy ask me to call someone he wants to talk to and me having to tell him I can’t because I don’t know his number? I had to call his company, Megan. I called his company and had the switchboard put me through so Toby could talk to him.”
“Mom—”
“He didn’t even want anything, Toby. He just wanted to say hi and make sure he was still there. And the volume was loud enough that I could hear him say ‘I’m here, Toby,’ and even he sounded like he was tired of the lie.”
“Mom, don’t bother him at work.”
“Don’t have to.” She pried her phone out of her pocket and tapped the screen. “I have his cell number now. He didn’t know what to do, so he grabbed Toby a preschool spot, by the way. Needs to know what you want to do with it. Added you to his insurance policy, too. Said he’d take you off when you wanted. Doesn’t matter if you’re together as long as you’re legally married…which you will be for another fifty weeks at least, right? That’s the law in North Carolina, isn’t it? A year separated?”
Meg sank onto the wingback chair near her mother and covered her eyes with her hands. “Mom.”
“I’ve never been the kind of mother to tell you what to do, Megan, and I don’t want to start now, but I’ve got to say something, kiddo. This one, he’s a good one.”