Sarah

The rest of the day is spent lounging around the house with Millie and Bosco. Our near kiss earlier makes itself a permanent home at the forefront of my mind, and every time I look at him, I can’t help but wonder just what it would’ve been like to have felt his lips on mine. To feel the passion I’d seen in his eyes at that moment.

Millie seemed to feel better again as the day wore on, and she kept us entertained as we watched her play. Bosco was so good with her, always willing to participate in whatever game her little imagination could spin together. When she’d brought out the nail polish, I thought that would be where he’d draw the line. And he did. Kind of.

“Tink, do you know the difference between a man and a woman?”

Millie’s wide eyes are serious as she nods up at him. “Men have penises and girls have baginas.”

Bosco’s eyes fall closed, his face scrunched up as if in pain, but his twitching lips give away his overwhelming urge to laugh. When he finally gets a hold of himself, he opens his eyes again. “Right. Well, some men like to wear nail polish, and some men don’t. I’m the kind of man that doesn’t like to wear it.”

Millie frowns back at him, clearly not understanding. “But it’s pretty.”

“Well,” he says, looking to me for assistance, but I just grin back at him and shrug. He narrows his eyes at me, and then looks back down to Millie. “It’s very pretty, but I’m not a pretty kind of guy, ya know?”

Millie watches him for a moment, and then, apparently thinking he doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about, she starts sorting through the colors. “You like pink?”

Bosco sighs. “No, I don’t like pink.”

“Pink is pretty,” Millie insists, this time with her fists balled against her hips.

“Pink is very pretty, but I’m also the type of man that doesn’t like to wear pink.”

Millie digs back through her nail polish and comes up with a deep red. “This one,” she declares, thrusting it toward him. “Open it.”

Bosco laughs and takes the red bottle. “Okay, kid, here’s the deal. I’ll let you paint my thumbs, just my thumbs, and you can’t pick pink or red. Got it?”

Millie’s smile is wide and bright. “Got it.” She digs through her collection of nail polish again and pulls out a pastel purple color. “Pretty.”

This time, when she hands it to him, Bosco gives up. Twisting it open, he hands it back to her and watches while she sets to work on her task. Her little tongue pokes out the side of her mouth, and moving slowly, she globs on enough purple polish to do an entire strip club’s worth of nails.

When she’s painted both of his nails, along with the entire rest of his thumbs, she holds them in front of her and says, “Now, blow.”

Together, Bosco and Millie pucker up their lips and blow on his thumbs. It takes several minutes for the huge pools of polish to finally dry, but when it’s done, Millie smiles again. “Pretty.”

Bosco laughs. “Yeah, Tink. Very pretty.”

When his eyes come to me, heat hits my chest like a bullet. There aren’t many men out there that would let a little girl paint their fingernails, and I’m willing to bet there are even fewer biker types that would do it. But Bosco did it out of love, because he loves Millie more than any other man on this planet loves her. Maybe as much as I myself love her.

“Now me,” Millie pipes up. Putting her tiny hand on Bosco’s knee, she looks up at him with expectant eyes.

Bosco slowly pulls the brush from the bottle and wipes off the excess on one side. Lifting it, he slowly drags it up each small nail, unwittingly coating just as much skin as she had. Millie stands still as a statue, her eyes trained on Bosco’s work. After a few minutes, he pops the brush back inside the bottle and twists the cap closed.

Millie’s bright eyes are filled with love and happiness as she looks up at him. “Twins,” she gushes, waving her little fingers in the air. Bosco laughs as he pulls her into his lap, and they begin the blowing process all over again.

Since Millie was born, Bosco has done everything he can to make her feel special. He buys her toys and takes her for ice cream, and now he’s taken it one step further and painted fingernails with her. Never in my life have I found a man with purple thumb nails sexy, but Bosco’s thumbs, and the love that went into the botched paint job he’s sporting, is one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.

As if my sudden feelings for him weren’t complicated enough.

Bosco

While Sarah puts Millie to bed, I make a quick phone call to Reid, a new prospect to the Kings. I’d left him watching over Rachel.

“She’s fine,” he says. “Is there a reason I need to sit here watching over this chick?”

“Not one you need to be aware of,” I snap at him. “Just hang out with her. It’s not that hard, asshole.”

“She doesn’t even talk. It’s like she’s not all there.”

Poking my head around the corner, I take a quick look up the stairs to be sure Sarah’s still up there. “Look, dickhead,” I growl, when I hear traces of the story Sarah’s reading up there. “That chick has been through hell. All you have to do is be fucking present. Is that too goddamn much for you to understand?”

He sighs. “No.”

Just then, I hear the creak of the stairs as Sarah makes her way back down. “Look, I gotta go. Be nice,” I order. “She’s fuckin’ terrified enough as it is.”

The petulance in his tone is gone when he replies with, “Got it.”

The call disconnects while I’m still pulling it from my ear. Leaning forward, I drop it on the table and look up as Sarah comes into the room.

“She sleepin’?”

“Not yet,” she groans with a tired sigh. “Her fever seems to be coming back, so I gave her another dose of Tylenol and read her a story. Won’t be long now.”

She drops to the couch beside me and picks up the remote. It’s been a long time since Sarah and I had just hung out. We used to do it all the time, but after I got patched into the club, my time has revolved more around them and what they need.

“Wanna watch a movie?” she asks, already flicking through the Netflix menu so fast I can barely keep up.

I swallow, as Rachel’s words from last night play over in my head. She thought we were together. “Uh, yeah.” I stand up and head for the kitchen. “Pick whatever, and I’ll grab us some beer.”

After grabbing two bottles of beer and snagging a bag of chips from the cupboard, I resume my place beside her, just as the production company’s logo comes up on the screen. I twist off the cap of one and hand it to her. As I’m twisting off my own cap, the title of the movie appears.

“Nah,” I declare. “Fuck that.” Sarah squeals, laughing as I reach across her, scrabbling to take the remote from her hand. “I am not watching this shit, woman.”

Sarah holds the remote out of reach, her face alight with her laughter. “Come on! It’s supposed to be so good, and I haven’t had a chance to sit and watch it yet.”

“Fifty fucking Shades? Are you kidding me?” I make another attempt to get the remote from her, leaning across her body and pinning her back on the couch. “Not happening.”

As a last-ditch effort to keep me from getting it, Sarah stuffs the remote under her ass and grins up at me. That’s when I realize the position we’re in. My body is pressed against hers, her tits squashed against my chest, her smiling lips just inches from mine.

Both of us freeze, our eyes locked. Sarah’s tongue darts out and she wets her lower lip, leaving it wet and shining, and begging for a taste. This is the second time we’ve been in this situation, but this time, Millie’s asleep and can’t walk in.

“Let’s just watch the movie,” she says, her voice breathy. Her words are like a bucket of cold water. She’s not ready for this.

Sitting back, I take a swig of my beer, taking my time at it as my rushing heartbeat returns to a more tolerable rhythm. Finally, I shake my head and narrow my eyes in her direction. “Fine. We’ll watch it, but the first sign of a fuckin’ tear outta you and I’m gone.”

“Deal.” Her grin is filled with triumph as she positions her feet under her.

For the next thirty minutes, I sit and watch as the asshole millionaire woos the innocent virgin and tries to corrupt her virtue. I try to imagine how a non-fictional woman would react if I got all possessive and psycho like that on her. I’d end up with a fucking restraining order, that’s how.

After a few more minutes, I finally understand what the draw is. “This is fucking porn.”

Sarah’s body jolts, and she lets out a laugh of disbelief. “It is not!”

I point to the TV, where the hero has the virgin chick laying naked on the bed, her hands pinned above her. “Babe, those two are fucking. It might be playing some pussy romance music in the background, but that’s his ass and those are her tits, and he’s got his dick inside of her. That’s fucking porn.”

Sarah’s face flames, her eyes growing round and wide. She opens her mouth, likely to give another smart-ass retort, but instead, she just sits there gawking at me, shock clear on her face.

Her expression does me in. Throwing my head back, I laugh. “Don’t worry,” I reassure her. “I won’t tell anyone you tricked me into watching porn with you.”

Sarah lets out a strangled gasp and leans over, punching me in the arm. “That is not true. Just...” She screws her face up with frustration. “Just watch the damn movie, pervert.”

Throwing my hands in the air, I grin down at her. “Fine. I’ll watch your damn movie, but I think it’s safe to say you’re the pervert in this scenario.”

Sarah scowls at me and turns back to the screen, her legs crossed and her arms folded over her chest. Our shoulders are mere inches apart, and as the couple on the screen make love, I can feel the distance between us as if it’s a tangible item, drawing me closer so I can touch her.

The air in my lungs becomes heavy, until it becomes an effort to drag in another breath. Sarah sits completely still, and as I fight the urge to draw her to me, I see her head turn to me from the corner of my eye.

She’s on me before I even understand what’s happened. She lunges, spinning her body until her legs are settled on either side of me, her chest pressed against mine. Her mouth takes mine in a passion that threatens to carry me away—devouring, tasting, meshing us together in a way no kiss in history has ever done before.

I don’t take the time to think about it. My fingers coil themselves in her hair as I pull her closer, crushing my lips to hers, sliding my tongue across hers as my body hums with electricity. I can’t get close enough; I want to consume her. I want to be consumed by her. As her hands pull me closer, I want to climb inside of her and become a part of her forever.

My blood pounds through my veins as my hands find her waist and I slowly slide them up, covering her breasts. Even over her T-shirt, I can feel the pebbled nipples under my palms, and pinch it between my thumb and forefinger, rolling it as her body shudders with pleasure.

A crackling noise from the baby monitor barely registers in my lust filled thoughts, until suddenly, a terrified wail pierces through our passion. “Momma!”