“Yeah.”
Her arm around his gut gave him a squeeze. “You tired?”
“Mama, just f**ked you hard.”
Her body slumped into his side and she whispered, “Oh.”
He grinned at the ceiling again.
Then he said, “Doesn’t take a lotta energy to eat you, though.”
She shifted restlessly against him.
She liked that. Wanted it. Fucking wildcat.
Walker turned into her and found her mouth in the dark. It wasn’t hard to find, she’d tipped her head back to offer it to him.
He didn’t kiss her, he spoke. “On your back, Lexie, and spread for me.”
“Okay,” she whispered against his lips.
Then she got to her back and spread for him.
Then Walker ate his wife and then he f**ked her again.
After they were done, she got back to bed from the bathroom and again didn’t tug up her panties before she did it but this time not because she wanted another round. This time, because she was out the minute her cheek hit his shoulder.
Five minutes later, she rolled, he rolled with her and he was out the minute her body settled into the curve of his.
And from her leaving him to go to the bathroom to Walker falling asleep, not once did he think of the bars, of the smells or of the feel of the institution. All that shit was gone in a way he didn’t even notice that it was.
And it was unfortunate he didn’t notice because, if he did, he’d have realized Lexie gave that to him too.
And if he’d realized this, the next day he wouldn’t have done what he would do.
Chapter Thirteen
An Hour
“What do you think?” I asked Dominic as I showed him the flier I’d painstakingly crafted on software I’d never used before considering my skills with computers were limited to e-mail, internet shopping, facebook, downloading e-books on my reader and looking up weather and movie times.
In other words, working on it between taking phone calls, ringing up services and purchases, dusting and restocking shelves, assuring every exiting customer that they looked fabulous, the flier took me five days.
And the flier was important. It announced the soon-to-be released new services Dominic’s spa was offering, making his spa that was really a salon into an actual spa.
Therefore I wanted it to be right but knew it wasn’t.
“I love it!” he cried, snatching the flier out of my hand to examine it closer.
Perhaps I was wrong.
“You do?” I asked, thinking it looked what it was, like a blind six year old with learning difficulties designed it.
“It’s brilliant!” Dominic exclaimed then shoved it back in my hand and looked at me. “Print out fifty. I’ll send Daniel out with Blue Tack, a stapler and a mission.”
I grinned at him, he grinned back then his eyes slid over my shoulder to the front window and narrowed.
“Shit! Shit! On a Saturday,” he snapped then hissed, “figures.”