Chapter 19
Nineteen
Sabine
By five o’clock, I’m more than ready to put distance between me and the beach house. As we drive down the shoreline, and the distance between me and Valerie widens, the weight releases from my shoulders.
We find a come-as-you-are shoreside diner. Astor fits right in in his t-shirt, shorts and scraggly beard. I like this new Astor. He’s in a space of recalibrating what’s truly important to him. Designer suits, fifteen-hour workdays, and living a life driven by guilt are just a few of things he’s letting go.
As I sit across from him, I pray that the loose cannon with a violent temper is long gone. Time will tell, I guess.
We drink, eat, laugh, steal kisses when no one’s looking. It’s the happiest I’ve felt in a long time. But as most good things do, it comes to end when Cillian texts Astor about something important that’s come up with work. A potentially big new contract with the DOD, and Cillian needs to fly to DC immediately.
We rush back to the beach house and I realize it’s like we have a child to take care of. Cillian, the babysitter, has to rush out, so we adapt accordingly.
When we arrive, Astor leaves me to check on Valerie, who is asleep in bed. It’s just after ten.
After grabbing a glass of wine, I decide to take a quick shower to unwind, then maybe lose myself in a good book in bed.
I’ve just gotten out of the shower when I hear Astor sneak up behind me.
I grin at the expression on his face.
“I swear you have naked radar,” I mock, toweling off my breasts.
“It’s one of my superpowers, my beautiful butterfly.”
“Good news with work?”
“Yes, a potentially big new contract.”
“That’s exciting.”
“Mmm,” he says, sweeping a hand over my hair.
“Is Valerie asleep?”
“Yes, and the new nurse, Brittney, is outside, eating dinner on the patio. Speaking of eating . . .”
Before I can swat him away, I’m lifted off my feet and set on the marble counter of the vanity. I giggle as he tickles his beard against my neck in the playful way that he does. And in the playful way that I do, I reach down and grab his erection, already wet at the tip.
I laugh. “You have the hormones of a teenager, Mr. Stone.”
“That might be the greatest compliment you’ve ever given me.” He winks, then drops to his knees, his hands trailing down my thighs. We’re both smiling, both so happy, as he leans in and buries himself between my legs.
I tip my head back and inhale, threading my fingers through his hair as he french kisses my pussy.
I come fast and hard, convulsing against his face.
When I open my eyes, Valerie is standing in the doorway—and written in the condensation on the shower wall next to her is one word:
Chloe.