Walk Through Fire (Chaos #4)(143)



“I’m not trying to be a bitch, really I’m not, when I say that the way Zadie’s being has a good deal to do with you. You’re too soft on her, High.”

“That’s why we’re talkin’,” he stated. “ ’Cause I got that right in my face this weekend. Millie got more of it. And I gotta put a stop to it. Zadie’s gonna react, you’re gonna hear it, likely see it and have to put up with it. I realize it’s totally uncool, me standin’ here askin’ you this shit, but I got three girls in my life who I want to get along, so gotta do it. And that’s me askin’ you to take my back with this.”

Her brows snapped together and she said, “Of course, High. God, you don’t even have to ask. It’s not like I don’t want you to be happy.”

He had no f*cking clue what Deb wanted second to second, day to day or for her life.

But he was shocked as shit she wanted him to be happy.

It wasn’t that she’d want him to suffer.

It was just that he didn’t think she gave much of a shit.

“Means a lot, Deb,” he muttered.

“You want me to talk to her?” she asked.

“Think she should sit on what she’s done and what she knows. Cleo is Cleo. She’s on board. Maybe she’ll have a word.”

Deb made a face that said it all.

No one had much effect on Zadie when she wanted something, not even her big sister.

He grinned. “Worth it to hope.”

He watched Deb’s lips curl up slightly.

He continued, “Just want you to be aware so you aren’t blindsided by any of her shit. And if she starts bitchin’. . .” He shook his head. “Whatever you could do would be appreciated.”

“I’ll keep an eye and we’ll have a chat if she gets bad,” Deb offered.

“Like I said, whatever would be appreciated.”

She nodded.

Great.

That was done.

“Leave you alone to get back to our girls,” he muttered, pushing away from the truck.

“Right. Talk to you later, High,” she said, starting to move to round the hood of her car to get to the driver’s side door.

“Deb,” he called.

She stopped and looked back at him.

“Hope you know, want you to be happy too,” he told her.

“I know that,” she replied.

He was mildly curious when he asked, “Got any clue what’d do that?”

“Got it,” she told him. “Good job that pays well and is only a headache on occasion. Two good girls, though one can be a pain in the ass, but that’s usually only on occasion too. Really all I need, you know?”

He didn’t know.

Getting woken up with a phenomenal blowjob.

Bickering about alarm clocks.

Kittens underfoot.

Watching TV you don’t give a shit about just to make someone you love happy.

Looking forward to what that someone you love was going to wear that day because you know it’ll turn you on.

Knowing if you showed at her office, no matter who she was talking to on the phone, she’d get off it so she could get her arms around you and you could put your mouth on hers.

Working for a smile.

Then earning it.

No, he didn’t f*cking know.

Not at all.

“Would want more for you, Deb,” he said gently, and had to stop his chin jerking back when he watched her face get soft.

“Some people aren’t built like others, High. It’s sweet that you’d want that for me. You’re a good man. I think that’s why we worked for as long as we did. But I’m just not built like that.” She held his eyes and her lips curved up slightly again. “Though, I’m glad, since you are, you finally got what you needed.”

“You’re a good woman, too, Deb,” he told her because she was.

And she was right.

That was why they’d worked for as long as they did.

And that was why they’d had to end it before they stopped working.

“I’d like to meet Millie one day,” she replied.

“We’ll get on that as soon as Zadie gets her shit together.”

She nodded. “That’d be good.”

“It would,” he agreed, turning to his truck. “Now be safe gettin’ home.”

“Always am.”

Without another word to her, High got in his truck, started her up, but idled until Deb was in, buckled up, and on her way.

Then he pulled out of his spot and followed her to the exit of the parking lot.

She turned left.

High turned right.

*  *  *

“Low,” she whispered, riding him hard.

He had her on her knees, torso up. He was behind her, his dick was buried inside her, his hand curved around her tit, finger and thumb pinching and pulling, and he had her toy to her clit.

She was gone.

Part of this was because she’d tortured him through a fat shrimp appetizer, a big steak dinner, and a f*cking dessert, all of this wearing a clingy sweater dress that had the added temptation of having a wide collar that fell off one, the other, or both her shoulders.

So when he got her home, he’d wasted no time getting her hot, then making her hotter as he turned her over his thighs at the side of her bed, yanked up her skirt, and dove in.

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