I say nothing. I worried over what he could say, but looks like Dad is turning out to be an asset after all.
“I just want what’s best for my children,” she says, her eyes suddenly shining bright.
Here come the phony tears.
“Sometimes even at the expense of our children’s health.” He thrusts a finger in her direction. “Don’t even get me started about Sylvie.”
The tears fall now, silently rolling down her face. She looks away as if she’s ashamed. Mother and Sylvie haven’t spoken to each other in almost a year. Sylvie recently ran away. Well, she’s calling it a gap year. Last I heard, she’s spending time in Fiji.
“You need to let our son live his own life,” Dad continues, his voice gentle. “He’s old enough to make his own decisions, and he chooses to be with Summer. There’s nothing you can do about it, Syl. Let him be. Stop harassing him over the trust fund. Call off your lawyers and be done with it.”
Her gaze finds mine, and I just look at her, not able to smile. Not able to feel anything at all. This woman might be my mother, but she didn’t have much of a hand in raising me. That was thanks to nannies and private schools. She was never nurturing. Cared too much about appearances and social status.
I refuse to ever let that happen to me. To my future. I want to raise my children. Love my wife. I don’t want to cheat. I don’t want to control.
Well. I do like control. But privately is where I get the most joy out of it.
“Fine. I’ll stop the legal proceedings.” She lifts her chin, haughty as ever.
I don’t bother saying thank you. Why should I? She’s the one who started this mess. She should be apologizing to me.
“You’ll realize someday, that I was trying to do you a favor.” She approaches me and I gaze up at her from where I sit. She might be standing over me, but we both know who’s in control of this situation. “You’ll come to me and say that I was right. This girl is just using you. Mark my words.”
“Whatever you need to believe, go ahead and believe it. I know the truth,” I say, my voice calm.
She scans the room, realizing quickly she has no one left on her side. With a huff, she walks out of the office, slamming the door behind her.
“I’ll reach out to her lawyer this afternoon.” Madison reaches across his desk and grabs the prenup Summer insisted on. “I’m hopeful she’ll let this matter go.”
“Don’t even know how she believed she’d have a legal leg to stand on anyway,” Father mutters. “Got anything to drink in here, Madison?”
I watch as my lawyer pours my father a glass of scotch. He asks if I want any but I refuse. It’s not even noon yet. Instead, I pull my phone out of my pocket and send a quick text.
Me: It’s done.
She responds almost immediately.
Summer: Come home.
I rise to my feet, shaking my lawyer’s hand before I give my father a brief hug. “Wish I could celebrate with the two of you, but I need to get going.”
“Where to?” My father asks, sounding suspicious.
I just offer him a quick smile. “Duty calls.”
I find her in my bedroom. Still in bed. Still naked and mussed and sleepy. The moment I enter the room, I start shedding my clothes, watching her watch me, a tiny smile playing upon her lips as I tear out of my button-down shirt so violently, I pop a button. It lands on the hardwood floor with a soft ping, making her giggle.
“Lazy,” I murmur, my cock straining the front of my trousers when she sits up, letting the covers fall and exposing her bare breasts.
She flips her hair over her shoulder, letting me see even more. “You left and I couldn’t help but drift off back to sleep. I think I still have jet lag.”
“You’ve been on New York time for over a week, Savage. That excuse is getting old,” I tease, toeing off my shoes before shucking my trousers and boxers off in one go, kicking them onto the floor. Last are my socks, and I sit on the edge of the mattress, yanking them off before I crawl up the bed. Until I’m lying on top of Summer, her legs falling open to accommodate my hips as I settle myself in between her thighs. I stare at her, my gaze never straying from hers as I push a few wild strands of silky soft hair away from her face.
So beautiful. And all mine. Since finding her again, I can barely stand to keep her out of my sight. She’s still my Summer, but older. More mature. More thoughtful and not as impulsive as she used to be.
I’m not either.
“It went well then?” she asks, her brows drawing together in concern.
Nodding, I lean in and drop a kiss on her perfect lips. “Mother threw a fit.”
“Of course she did.”
“My father was supportive.”
“He’s not so bad.”
“He’s really not. I think he sees himself in me, and how he didn’t get a choice at my age.” I kiss her cheek. Her jaw. Her ear, and the soft spot just behind it.
“And what’s your choice?” she asks, breathless.
“You.” I lift away slightly so I can look into her eyes. “Always you, Summer.”
Her smile is slow, her eyes glowing. “I don’t want your money.”
“You’re a fool for saying that, according to my mother.”
“I suppose I’m not as greedy as her. Though I do feel greedy.” She reaches up, her fingers drifting across my lips. “For you.”
I part my lips and nip at her finger, making her yelp. She drops her hand and I kiss her, my lips on hers as I murmur, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she says, just before I take the kiss deeper.
Words are pretty, but most of the time they’re meaningless. That’s why I show her that I love her.
By worshipping her body for the rest of the day.
Fifty-One
Summer
“Darling!”
I rush toward Monty the second I spot him, letting him embrace me fully. I try to restrain myself, but give in quickly, hugging him back with all of my might. I even give him a sloppy kiss on the cheek, which makes him squirm and pull away from me.
I can’t help but laugh evilly.
“You’re still angry at me. I can tell,” he says the moment we sit down at the table across from each other.
He texted last night, informing me he was back in New York and was desperate to see me so he could apologize.
“Put the poor man out of his misery and go meet him for lunch,” Whit told me after I let him read the text. “He adores you.”
“He hurt me,” I said, my voice small.
“Are you complaining? Look at us.” Whit waved a hand around, indicating his bedroom. We were already in bed, though it was early. It’s as if we couldn’t get enough of each other. “I don’t hear you griping when I’m balls deep inside of you every damn night.”
No, I suppose he doesn’t hear me complain at all. Why would I?
I’m with the man I love, all thanks to him plotting with Monty.
“I’ll get over it eventually,” I say with a sigh, shaking my head.
Monty pouts. “Please. I was off traipsing across the continent all by my lonesome while you celebrated your triumphant return to Manhattan by getting thoroughly fucked by that exquisite boyfriend of yours, day and night. Don’t bother denying it,” he immediately says when I pop my mouth open to protest. “You love birds are all over the gossip sites. They can’t stop talking about the two of you.”