Southern Bombshell (North Carolina Highlands 5)

“Have time for a quick break?” I grunt, trailing my lips over her throat.

She runs her fingers through her hair. “A quick one, yes.”

We’ve fucked in my kitchen a hundred times in a hundred different ways, but it never gets old lifting her onto the counter and peeling off her pants and playing with her pussy while she unbuttons my jeans.

Never gets old, having her thumb the bead of precum on my head before guiding me to her center. She calls me Nathaniel. I inhale the scent of her skin and lick the sauce off the side of her mouth and make her come with my fingers two seconds before I come too, my hips jerking as the relief of release washes over me.

Resting my forehead on hers, I struggle to catch my breath.

“Was it all the hearts?” she asks, and I open my eyes to see her lips twitch.

“The glittery ones,” I manage. “Those got me the horniest.”

“Thought they might.”

“Milly?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you ever think it’d be this good?”

“I knew it could be this good.” She pauses. “I just didn’t know if our families would come along for the ride.”

“I’m glad they did. It’s better, right?”

“So much better with them around, yes. Although I think I like life best when it’s just you and me. And Lucy, of course.”

Speaking of Lucy—she’s learned to curl up in her bed by the fire when Milly and I get naked. She’s there now, licking one of her paws while her costume arrow sticks straight up from her hind leg. It’s hilarious.

“I like this too. You really went all out, huh?”

“Too much?”

“I love it. Thank you.”

We’re good at this, Milly and me: taking care of each other, taking turns. It’s really fucking nice to have another adult in the room.

An adult who buys dog costumes and always has top-notch weed on hand.

Goddamn, I love this woman.

I clean us up, then run upstairs to change into stretchy pants of my own before coming back down to pour wine and help Milly finish the meal.

In true Milly Beauregard style, she’s set a beautiful table with brass candlesticks, embroidered cloth napkins, and fancy-ass china in a blue-and-green pattern that matches my kitchen perfectly. After I pour more wine and she plates the food, we sit down to eat with Lucy curled up at Milly’s feet.

Taking my first bite, I groan. The homemade pasta is to die for, its subtle starchiness a perfect complement to the bold Bolognese. A dusting of freshly grated parmesan ensures everything is perfectly seasoned.

“Fuck me, that’s good.”

Milly twirls her fork in the pasta. “I did fuck you. I’ll happily do it again after dessert.”

“There’s dessert?”

“Of course there’s dessert. Mom made everyone chocolate-chocolate chip loaves for Valentine’s Day. I stole some of Samuel’s hand-churned vanilla bean ice cream to go with it.”

By the time we’re done with said dessert, I’m so full I can barely move. Pouring the rest of the wine, I grab Milly’s hand and head for the couch. Lucy follows us, taking her place on the armrest.

“So,” I say, sipping my wine. “How’d your meeting with Thea and Hadley go?”

Curling up beside me, Milly smiles. “Really fucking great,” she replies matter-of-factly. “Thea literally jumped out of her chair when I told her she was being promoted. And Hadley was thrilled to accept a full-time position when he graduates in May.”

“Y’all are gonna make one hell of a team.”

“Thanks. Fewer weddings plus bigger team equals—”

“More time for this.” I tap my wineglass to hers. “That deserves a toast.”

“You deserve a toast,” she says, her eyes earnest. “Thanks for slowing me down. I hadn’t realized how far away I’d gotten from myself until you came back into the picture. I love our drives and our dinners, and I especially love your dick.” She gently pats my lap. “I’m lucky I’m able to spend more time with it these days.”

“I’m the lucky one.”

“We both are.” She drinks her wine. “No word from your dad since last time?”

I shake my head. “Nope. By all accounts, he’s happy as a pig in shit out there. No doubt he’s found his fellow lowlifes to hang out with.”

Dad texted a few weeks back to let Silas and me know he’d bought a house out in Wyoming, along with thirty acres he has “big plans for.” He could put up a circus tent for all I care. As long as he stays there, we’re good.

Shockingly, it sounds like he really might stay gone. Truth be told, I don’t think he misses Asheville all that much. Not only did he make out like a bandit when June purchased his stake, but he’s also got away from the people he’s crossed over the years. I think he’s finally figured out that Wyoming is a fresh start. An opportunity to screw over a whole new group of people.