She tries to sit up but I push her back down. My tongue traveling up her body, drawing circles around her nipples before I take one in my mouth and suck hard.
The little moans coming out of her make my dick grow hard again. I let go of her nipple and look at her. “How much longer on dinner?”
She looks over at the clock on the microwave. “At least thirty minutes.”
“Good.” I pull out of her and kick my shoes and pants off, then toss her over my shoulder. “Enough time to take a shower.”
She slaps my ass but giggles the whole way into the bathroom.
* * *
An hour later, we are sitting at my kitchen table, eating the chicken casserole she made. I watch her as she eats. The slight flush still on her cheeks from the shower sex. Her wet hair is piled on top of her head and she is back in one of my T-shirts again. “This is delicious.”
She looks at me like I’m lying. “Family recipe.”
I raise a brow at her and she laughs.
“Okay fine, it was just whatever the hell I found in your kitchen. Thank god for freezers and Campbell’s soup or else I would have had shit.”
“Well I am impressed you were able to find anything in here. I don’t really remember the last time I went to the grocery store.”
“Because you’re a workaholic that eats out all the time!”
I shrug. “I don’t always.”
She gives me a stern look. “The only time I have seen you not eat delivery or at a restaurant is when Anna has brought you leftovers.”
“I’m too busy to cook.”
“So what, you have just eaten out for the last twelve years you’ve been a lawyer?”
Her words hit me in the gut. Because no, I haven’t done that. Tiffany used to cook dinner every night. Even when I was working late and wouldn’t get home until after eight. She would always make sure I had something to eat. Hell, she would pack me lunch some days too. The days she knew I didn’t have court and would be in my office most of the day. Of course this was before I proposed. When we were just living together and having fun. When the pressure of married life wasn’t beginning to weigh down on us.
“Hello?” Grace says and I realize I’ve been spacing out.
I look up at her. “Sorry. Just…”
“Did Tiffany cook for you?” she asks me.
I drop my fork at the mention of that name on Grace’s lips. “What are you talking about?”
She sets her fork down and looks at me seriously. “I know you were engaged.”
I clench my fist. “Who told you?” My voice is gritty.
“Anna and Faye. They kind of just let it slip when we went out.”
“So you’ve known for weeks and haven’t said anything?” I ask her.
“Carson, it’s not my place to ask questions about that. I’m just your employee.”
I growl at her. “Just an employee.” I push away from the table. “I just had you bent over in my shower with my dick so deep inside you, you almost blacked out.”
“I don’t know why you are getting so upset. I just asked you a simple question.”
I pick up my plate and toss it into my sink. “You don’t get to ask questions about my past.”
“So what am I? An employee and the woman you are fucking? And that’s it, right? I can know about the way your face looks when you come or when you watch me with your dick down my throat. But I can’t know about the woman who used to live here. Who used to share this house with you?”