Blyssfully Undone (The Blyss Trilogy 3)

I turn my attention back to this blue-eyed angel, who stands in front of me twisting her fingers in a knot. I itch to pull her onto my lap and squeeze her tight, but I don’t. I can see the conflicting emotions running across her face and it kills me. As much as I want to break the tense silence, I wait for her to speak first.

“You knew all along, didn’t you?” she nervously asks.

My lips thin, making a hard line. I don’t want to elaborate on her question. Opening my mouth can only lead to another fight, so all I do is nod in agreement.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice squeaks, sounding pained.

I let out a long-winded sigh and briefly close my eyes. I should’ve known she would pick this apart. “Ohh, my curious little Jules. Would it have made a difference?” I eye her skeptically as she soaks in my question. “Honestly, sweetheart, because I’m tired of you hurting. I’m tired of being the bearer of bad news. I just wanted to be able to spare you from living in any more pain for once.”

“I don’t understand. I’m already in pain. I’ve been in pain since the day I was ruthlessly ripped from my home.” She frowns and turns her head to look off in the darkness. “I’ve asked myself a hundred times already if he even loved me to begin with, you know?”

“Oh, on the contrary,” I interject, not wanting to see her put herself down. I reach out, taking hold of both her hands, hoping to provide her some form of comfort. “From what I heard, the poor guy had a major breakdown after your disappearance.” Her head whips around with speed, her hair flying in her face as she searches my eyes, seeking the truth.

“Then why didn’t he wait for me?” she asks, her voice hoarse. Her question kind of pisses me off. She shouldn’t care that he’s not available anymore. My forehead wrinkles, and my eyes narrow with irritation.

“Wait for what, Jules?” I ask, highly annoyed. “Nick doesn’t play games, and he made damn sure that chapter in your life was closed. Adam had to marry, because if he didn’t, Nick would’ve ended his life.” She gasps, and then her features turn distraught as she tries to pull out of my hands. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry.” I squeeze her hands, not letting her go. I pull her toward me, placing her between my legs. I mentally berate myself for snapping.

“Come and sit with me?” I ask hopefully, changing my voice to a softer tone. Her face turns sad and she drops her chin in defeat. “I don’t want to fight, Jules. I just want to go back to what we had. Please, come sit down beside me.”

I let go of her hands, and lean over the side of the swing, picking up my glass of iced tea off the porch floor. I take a sip of the cool, sweet concoction, then lean back against the wooden slats on the swing, patting the empty space.

I watch her closely as she slides in beside me, curling her legs underneath her sexy little sundress, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close to my side. “I’m sorry about this morning,” I admit. I use my feet to push off the floor of the porch, giving us a little swing. “You want a drink?” I offer her the glass of tea.

Her eyes never leave mine as she takes the glass and then takes a small sip. Seeing her plump lips wrap around the rim of my glass makes me want them wrapped around my cock. I miss her, and yet she’s right here. Apparently I have no shame, because as I take the glass from her hand, and with a shot of courage, I lean in to brush my lips against hers. When she doesn’t pull away, slap me, or tell me to go to hell, I figure I have her approval, so I swipe my tongue over her soft lips. All I want to do is go slowly and savor the tender feel and taste of her.

I groan when she opens her mouth willingly to me, and then she darts her tongue out to touch mine. Not hesitating, I take without apology and slip my tongue past her lips. When our tongues collide, the coolness of the iced tea she has on her tongue and the warmth of her mouth makes for an erotic contrast.

“I think my favorite kind of kisses are make-up kisses now,” I mumble, grinning over her lips.

“How do you do that?” she whispers, panting over my lips.

“Do what, darlin’?” My lips twitch with a knowing smirk as I bend over and place the glass of tea on the floor. I love how my kisses always affect her reasoning abilities.