Page 127 of Whiskey Wednesdays

I collapsed onto my side, and he crawled next to me and cradled my body against him for a few seconds. Then he pulled off the gag and unwrapped his belt.

Shifting my jaw around, I opened and closed my mouth a few times. Connor reached around and ran his hands up and down my wrists, massaging the marks his belt had left.

“You good?” he asked softly.

“No.” I grabbed his hand and squeezed. “I’ve temporarily died and I’m in orgasm heaven. It’s going to take me a minute to come back.” My voice sounded hoarse.

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around me. “Welcome to the mile-high club. You’re a mess. I wish this plane had a shower so we could clean up.”

“You’re the one who made me that way. And the plane has a freaking bed, don’t be greedy.”

We cleaned up with the damp, wrinkled pillowcase and then used the bathroom. Connor checked on Elodie, who was still sound asleep.

He came back and laid down next to me. “This trip didn’t turn out like I’d hoped. Except the last part.”

He studied my cheek and his eyes got hard. “Tomorrow I have a meeting with Zeke. We’re also talking with an agency from Vancouver. I’m ending this.”

I wrapped my arms around him. “Amelia and Noah seem to hate me.” I hesitated. “Maybe I’m putting Elodie in danger by staying with you.”

He stilled, then wrapped his arms around me. “You’re not, so get that fucking thought out of your head. You got her out of the house and protected her.”

But the thought lingered.

Chapter 37

When we landed and I took my phone off airplane mode, I noticed a text from my landlord letting me know my apartment had been repaired and renovated. I didn’t know what “renovated” meant to him, but I suspected someone in the HOA had gone into my apartment to see the leaks, and figured out my landlord was a big, fat slumlord. I’d never admit that to Connor, though.

There was also a text from Abby.

Abby: What happened in Vancouver? Titus said Connor’s ex-wife assaulted you?! Call me!

Me: I’m fine, and it wasn’t that bad. How are things with Titus? Let’s meet for dinner tomorrow.

Abby: Sounds good. Things are fine. And you’re lying.

I smirked. She was probably also lying, but we’d talk tomorrow.

When we got back to Connor’s house, I walked over to see my dad.

He took one look at my cheek and started turning red. “What happened to your face?” His voice sounded strangled.

I held up a hand. “Elodie’s mom hit me. She and Noah came to Connor’s house when he wasn’t there, but I got Elodie away.”

He stared at me for a few seconds, then roughly pulled me in for a hug. “I’m sorry. This is my fault. I never would have encouraged Connor if I’d known he’d been married, and his ex-wife would do something like that to you.”

Shaking my head, I stepped back. “I blame him for not being honest with me, but this is all Amelia.” I pointed to my face. “And better me than Elodie.”

He still looked upset, so I stuck around and we spent some time together. He poured me a glass of homemade lemonade and put a few snickerdoodle cookies on a plate, then we walked out to his little back patio.

“What’re you going to do when you finish school?” he asked.

I picked up a cookie. “Connor wants me to stay here and move in with him ‘officially.’ But I’m not sure.”

“What about work?”

“I have a solid job offer in Seattle, and the pediatric clinic here also talked to me about staying on.”

Dad bit into a cookie. “And the sports medicine clinic?”

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