Letting out a delicate little belch, a Funfetti confetti burpetti, I thought it over.
“Can I be real?” They all nodded eagerly as footsteps and the slamming of a door sounded behind us. “Like as in real-fucking-real?”
There was an overly loud groan behind us followed by a thud and Tom’s begging. “No, please. Be fake as fuck! Please.”
Turning around, I saw him with his head on the table and no Levi in sight. Guess he’d gotten sick of the girl talk, too.
Deciding that I was okay with this, I turned back to the girls.
“Forearm, or maybe even higher than that,” I held up my own arm, but then put it down again. I really was a small ass so they might not take it seriously if they looked at my arm. “Maybe even as big as Tom’s forearm…” I paused and looked at the arm. “And as wide.”
There was a chorus of gasps from the women in front of me, but what shocked me was Noah’s voice.
“Why thank you, Miss. Priss!”
Some women may have had more decorum, some might have played hard to get. Fortunately for Noah, his wife was one big ol’ drunken hussy.
Jumping up, I spun around and ran to my husband who threw his arms out. I was maybe a bit far away from him when I decided I was jumping, but fuck it, he’d catch me.
Mid-leap, I squealed, “Sex!”
I was right, he caught me, and he kissed me immediately too like he’d been wanting it as badly as I had. It was long, it was wet, and it was deep– maybe too deep for someone who’d just had a wire removed from their broken jaw.
Did I care? Did I hell!
“Okay,” Noah growled. “Everybody out!”
Ask me also if I cared if that was rude, and you’d get the exact same response as before.
Not one person in that room would have done it differently, and they proved this by merrily saying goodnight and leaving as ordered.
Noah“I take it you missed me,” I chuckled, walking toward our bedroom with Luna still wrapped around me.
“The washing machine doesn’t kiss me,” she muttered, her lips and tongue moving over my neck. It was distracting as hell, but I wasn’t complaining.
Then what she said registered.
“Huh? What’s laundry got to do with this?”
I would have left it well alone if she hadn’t frozen solid.
But because she did, I made a mental note to find out the answer… after. Maybe tomorrow!
She was only newly healed from her jaw, so I lowered her onto the bed even more carefully than I normally would have.
“I’m not glass, you know?” she pointed out, sounding somewhat irritated.
One of my favorite things in the world to do was to look at her eyes when I said things that were important to me. She had no control over her responses to things, and her eyes gave away everything. I got to see if something touched her, pissed her off, made her happy, or made her horny. I had the advantage of the fact that - if I didn’t say it right the first time, I got to explain it so she understood better.
This was one of those times when I needed her eyes, and I needed her to be able to see mine, too.
Placing my hands gently around her face, I held her head in place. Why I was doing what I was doing on this occasion, wasn’t technically for her. It was for me.
“Baby, the image of how I found you plays on repeat in my head. Not knowing if you could breathe at all… I will never let you be in that predicament ever again,” I swore. “Then seeing your face and knowing the pain you were in,” I swallowed audibly, gently lowered my forehead down to hers and closed my eyes while I figured out how to say the next bit.
Once I was in control again, I went back to my original position. “I feel like I’ve failed you twice, and on both occasions, they could have led to me losing you forever. So, I need to treat you like you’re glass, even if it’s just for the time being. I need to know that I’m keeping you safe and that you’re okay. Do you understand?”
While I was talking to her, I’d watched as the tears built up in her eyes, and then tracked one that fell down the side of her face. Her eyes looked pissed for some reason which confused the shit out of me.
“You’re not to blame, Noah,” she growled in my face. “My fucking father is. Don’t you think Madix could blame himself for not getting me away from him when I was younger? Don’t you think he…”
“He does, baby,” I whispered, letting her in on some of the things her brother and I had spoken about. “I know what you’re saying, but even Levi and the rest of my family feel partly responsible.”