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The One For Me (Danver #8)(63)

By:Sydney Landon


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She and Mark had just finished a dinner of Chinese takeout and were curled up on the sofa watching television. It seemed so domestic and normal that Crystal had pinched herself once just to prove that she was awake. Somehow, she’d always imagined being with a man like Mark would mean lots of socializing, but they’d actually developed a fairly low-key routine. Most evenings they cooked, ordered in, or went out to eat, and then went back to either her apartment or Mark’s place—mostly his. They had gone to the movies a few times and spent lazy days on the beach in front of his house. She loved it since she’d never been one who liked to be constantly on the go.

His arm was around her shoulders, and he was absently twirling a piece of her hair when his phone rang. She saw Denny’s name on the display before Mark answered the call with a simple “Yeah?” Then there was nothing but silence, followed by an explosion of profanity. She jumped in her seat, looking at him in alarm. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” He removed his arm and hunched forward. “I swear to Christ, I’m about sick of dealing with this.” He said a few more sentences before ending the call and dropping his head in his hands.

She tentatively touched his back, rubbing at the tense muscles there. “Is everything okay, babe?” Quite obviously, it wasn’t, and she felt kind of stupid for asking, but she had to start somewhere.

“Not really, Angel,” he snapped, before softening his voice. “Sorry, baby.” He rubbed at his neck before straightening to look at her. “You need to go home. My parents are coming into town unexpectedly, and it won’t be good if you’re here.”

Wow, she hadn’t been expecting that. She knew from the few things that both he and Denny had shared with her that his parents were about as bad as hers. From his reaction, she had to think they could even be worse. “I don’t mind,” she protested, not wanting to leave him in his hour of need.

Pulling her back into his arms, he dropped a kiss on her neck before saying, “Remember when I said that my parents made yours look tame?” When she nodded, he added, “Well, that was somewhat of an understatement. Your mother may be a bitch and your father may let her get away with it, but that’s where the similarities end. In my family dynamic, my father is the asshole and my mother is the enabler. And to make matters worse, he’s also a drunk who abuses alcohol and God knows what else. He’s weak, selfish, and spineless. My mother tries to smooth his rough edges by pretending to care about us, and possibly a part of her does, but I’ll always be a distant second to her. They both sleep with whomever they want, but at the end of the day, they’re a team and anyone else is just on the outside looking in.”

Unable to process his words, she stared at him for a moment before saying, “Wow, I thought I had the parents from hell.”

That appeared to have surprised him enough to get a laugh out of him, which he’d looked sorely in need of. “I believe we both do,” he agreed, “just in different ways. They’re toxic, Angel, and I don’t want you to have to deal with it. You have enough to handle with your mother. Chances are that my father will be wasted, and when that happens, he can be nastier than usual. So it would make me very happy to know that you’re home enjoying your evening and away from their toxic behavior.”

“Are they staying with you?” she asked, still feeling as if she was abandoning him to the wolves.

“Hell no,” he responded immediately. “I’ll be their first stop, but luckily they prefer an expensive hotel. They generally stay at the Oceanix, so I figure I only have to survive a few hours—at least tonight.”

“All right,” she agreed. “I don’t want you to be stressed over them and have to worry about me, so I’ll go.” She was pulling away to stand, when he managed to halt her progress and lift her neatly into his lap.

“Thanks, baby,” he growled, “but I’m going to need a little something to get me by before you leave.”

“And what would that be?” she purred as his lips locked on hers. Dear God, the man could kiss. She might not have much to compare him to, but somehow she knew he’d be at the top of most women’s lists. He didn’t just kiss, he owned. He was in control, unless he was feeling playful and allowed her to take charge for a brief time. He believed in lots of tongue. When Mark took your mouth, you damn well knew it. Her clit throbbed and her nipples hardened, even though she tried to silently warn her body that there would be no satisfaction tonight—unless it was self-induced.