And at the end, This premises is protected by Blue Security.
I look back at Sutton—shocked, honored, overwhelmed. “You did this?”
“I had to do something. You were going to be a doctor and save the world. I figured I could be responsible for saving this corner. You were my first guest.”
“Ky was,” I say, my eyes wet with tears.
“Ky helped me,” he admits. “Along with Hannah, Blue’s wife. A lot of people pitched in. Mostly what I did was knock down walls and then rebuild them.”
“I can’t believe he knew about it and didn’t tell me.”
“He was sworn to secrecy. And he said if you knew about it, you’d insist on helping. I couldn’t have seen you without needing you. It was bad enough knowing you were somewhere in the city, and that if I only looked you up, only called, I could have found you.”
I run to him and throw my arms around him. He catches me in a secure grip, twirling me around on this street corner. It used to mean sadness and pain, being here. Hunger. And that persistent cold of winter that never really goes away. Now it’s a place of hope.
“I love you,” I say. “Love you, love you, love you.”
I press mad kisses across his eyebrows, his cheeks, his chin. I feel a little wild with how much I love this man, but he returns the sentiment without missing a beat, pressing me against the wall, breathing me in, and kissing my neck, biting gently and then soothing with his tongue.
A car passes by on the street and honks. I jump apart from him like a guilty teenager. He pulls back more slowly, his blue eyes laughing. “If I had known you’d react like this, I’d have brought you here a long time ago?”
“You built me a castle in the sky.” I rest my head on his chest, feeling the safety and surety of his arms. The truth is I was safe from the moment he first kissed me against the wall, even if I didn’t know it. That’s Sutton. Kind and generous. And loving.
My hand rests on his shoulder, the sapphires sparkling around the diamond.
“You were never for sale, you know that, right?” he murmurs in my ear.
“I know,” I murmur. “I was just waiting for you.”
* * *
Thank you so much for reading MATING THEORY. In addition to this epilogue, there’s a bonus wedding epilogue between Sutton and Ashleigh. SIGN UP HERE >
There are also many characters in this book who have their own story!
• Christopher and Harper. Read SURVIVAL OF THE RICHEST >
• Hugo and Bea. Read ESCORT now >
• Blue and Hannah. Read BETTER WHEN IT HURTS >
• Anders (the doctor)’s book. Read THE BISHOP >
• Damon and Penny, who own the Den. Read THE KING >
And don’t miss my brand-new taboo romance, OVERTURE!
“Swoon-worthy, forbidden, and sexy, Liam North is my new obsession.”
—New York Times bestselling author Claire Contreras
Liam North got custody of the violin prodigy six years ago. She’s all grown up now, but he still treats her like a child. No matter how much he wants her.
No matter how bad he aches for one taste.
“A seductive and utterly addicting story of temptation and forbidden desire. This is Skye Warren at her best!”
—New York Times bestselling author Sarah Castille
READ OVERTURE NOW >
And the sexy virgin auction book THE PAWN with Gabriel and Avery in Tanglewood is FREE on all retailers! There’s one way to save our house, one thing I have left of value—my body. Download THE PAWN now!
Turn the page for an excerpt from Overture…
Excerpt from Overture
Rest, Liam told me.
He’s right about a lot of things. Maybe he’s right about this. I climb onto the cool pink sheets, hoping that a nap will suddenly make me content with this quiet little life.
Even though I know it won’t.
Besides, I’m too wired to actually sleep. The white lace coverlet is both delicate and comfy. It’s actually what I would have picked out for myself, except I didn’t pick it out. I’ve been incapable of picking anything, of choosing anything, of deciding anything as part of some deep-seated fear that I’ll be abandoned.
The coverlet, like everything else in my life, simply appeared.
And the person responsible for its appearance? Liam North.
I climb under the blanket and stare at the ceiling. My body feels overly warm, but it still feels good to be tucked into the blankets. The blankets he picked out for me.
It’s really so wrong to think of him in a sexual way. He’s my guardian, literally. Legally. And he has never done anything to make me think he sees me in a sexual way.
This is it. This is the answer.
I don’t need to go skinny-dipping in the lake down the hill. Thinking about Liam North in a sexual way is my fast car. My parachute out of a plane.
My eyes squeeze shut.
That’s all it takes to see Liam’s stern expression, those fathomless green eyes and the glint of dark blond whiskers that are always there by late afternoon. And then there’s the way he touched me. My forehead, sure, but it’s more than he’s done before. That broad palm on my sensitive skin.
My thighs press together. They want something between them, and I give them a pillow. Even the way I masturbate is small and timid, never making a sound, barely moving at all, but I can’t change it now. I can’t moan or throw back my head even for the sake of rebellion.
But I can push my hips against the pillow, rocking my whole body as I imagine Liam doing more than touching my forehead. He would trail his hand down my cheek, my neck, my shoulder.
Repressed. I’m so repressed it’s hard to imagine more than that.
I make myself do it, make myself trail my hand down between my breasts, where it’s warm and velvety soft, where I imagine Liam would know exactly how to touch me.
You’re so beautiful, he would say. Your breasts are perfect.
Because Imaginary Liam wouldn’t care about big breasts. He would like them small and soft with pale nipples. That would be the absolute perfect pair of breasts for him.
And he would probably do something obscene and rude. Like lick them.
My hips press against the pillow, almost pushing it down to the mattress, rocking and rocking. There’s not anything sexy or graceful about what I’m doing. It’s pure instinct. Pure need.
The beginning of a climax wraps itself around me. Claws sink into my skin. There’s almost certain death, and I’m fighting, fighting, fighting for it with the pillow clenched hard.
“Oh fuck.”
The words come soft enough someone else might not hear them. They’re more exhalation of breath, the consonants a faint break in the sound. I have excellent hearing. Ridiculous, crazy good hearing that had me tuning instruments before I could ride a bike.
My eyes snap open, and there’s Liam, standing there, frozen. Those green eyes locked on mine. His body clenched tight only three feet away from me. He doesn’t come closer, but he doesn’t leave.
Orgasm breaks me apart, and I cry out in surprise and denial and relief. “Liam.”
It goes on and on, the terrible pleasure of it. The wrenching embarrassment of coming while looking into the eyes of the man who raised me for the past six years.