Page 38 of From West, With Regret

I should feel guilty, but I don’t. If Heath was alive to know the fantasies I’ve played in my mind about London, he’d have soon discovered that,technically, she was mine first. And knowing how London felt about Heath,technically, they never shared a real marriage. Not the one she deserved.

If she were mine, I’d make sure she knew it every single fucking day.

London nods toward Charleigh and Asher, who are now standing by the table filled with champagne and orange juice. He’s pouring her a glass, never taking his eyes off her.

“It should be sickening, but it’s kind of sweet, isn’t it?” she says. She grins as if she’s envious of her friend’s happiness.

“It is.” But I’m not looking at them. I’m only looking at her.

“We deserve a love like that, don’t you think?”

“Yes.” I’m quick to answer.

She turns her head my way, finding my eyes. We stare at each other for several beats, our silent thoughts filtering into the void.

“I’m going to join the girls and get some sun myself.” She stands and adjusts her black skirt before opening the gate at the top of the stairs that leads to the lower deck… but I don’t miss how she stops with the gate open, hesitating as she glances over her shoulder in my direction before she continues down the stairs, turning her back to me.

I force myself to focus on the water, thinking about anything but London.

A location in Miami I’ve been scouting for a new bar.

Renovations to my bar on Long Island.

Increasing my donation to the foster homes in New York State.

But all thoughts lead back to the woman I can’t tear my gaze away from. She’s now removing her thin black skirt. I press my fingers to my mouth, stifling the groan clawing up my throat.

London’s full, round ass cheeks jiggle as she kicks off her sandals. Her full tits are perfect and her gold bikini shimmers in the sunlight, a stark contrast to her raven hair. Tucking her fingers under the hem of her bikini bottom, she runs her hands from her waist to her cheeks. Her nails grate against her fragile skin. The elastic fabric snaps back, hugging her curves. She glances down, adjusting the bottom of her bikini top, ensuring all the important parts are covered.

Her hands are all… over… her… body.

“Fuck.” I groan.

London quickly looks in my direction, and her eyes find me. My face erupts into flames, and I dart my gaze back out at the water. I’m still shielding my mouth with my hand, forcing my dick to calm the fuck down. It’s begging to be set free, practically screaming under my swim shorts.

I’m still catching glimpses of London from the corner of my eye, even as I adjust myself the best I can.

“Are you all right, man?” Asher’s question drags me out of the trance London has caught me in.

I look to my right, finding him staring at me. “I’m fine.”

I glance back over my shoulder to see London slipping her sunglasses down to rest on the bridge of her nose. There’s no mistaking the curl in the corner of her insatiable mouth.

I imagine it sucking the crown of my dick before she sticks her tongue out, dragging that silver ball along my length. Fuck.

Finally, she lays down beside Selene on the net and rests her hands on her stomach, trailing her fingers absentmindedly along theskin there.

I lied to Asher when I said I was fine. I’m not fine.

The biggest lie I’ve ever told.

ELEVEN

LONDON

I’m falling.

Falling, falling, falling.