The Perfect Life (37 page)

“Yes, of course, you can use it. I’m sure Colin would appreciate having at least one of us there to support him,” I replied with a faint smile. “Just get Seth’s house key and let yourself in to get it then return it to him later. I’ve got several extra jerseys hanging in my closet if you want to borrow one of those too.”

“Thank you so much!” The hope in her eyes transformed into giddiness. “You have no idea what this means.”

“love is many things and

sometimes we are never

really sure if it even

exists, but all I know

is that if you were to

show me her soul

in a photograph

I wouldn’t even ask

to see the other”

–Christopher Poindexter

Oliver

I KEPT MY
promise to Seth and didn’t leave Monroe’s side the entire day. Over fourteen straight hours at the hospital—a roller coaster of ups and downs as JoJo’s body continued to fight through the drug poisoning—we were both drained and depleted by the time I shifted the car into park inside her garage a little before midnight. Walking from her car to the door was like a trip through quicksand wearing combat boots, and as my mind began fantasizing the pillow-top mattress waiting in her room, my stomach roared to life, reminding me that I still needed to eat something.

“Got it. First stop, food,” she teased as she unlocked the door and stepped inside. “Though I hate to tell you I don’t have any of that junk food you like in the house.”

“I’m so hungry I probably won’t even taste whatever it is I eat. I just need to nourish my body enough that it allows me to sleep at least eight hours,” I replied as I fell in step behind her down the tiled hallway that led to the main area of the home.

Only the second time I’d been to her house, the night before being the first, I was still a little in awe of the place as we traipsed through the living room and breakfast area to the gourmet kitchen. I couldn’t believe when she’d told me that Colin had designed and decorated the majority of the rooms, because like most people—or what I assumed most people thought—I didn’t visualize a big, macho NFL player dabbling in the world of interior design during the off-season, but apparently I needed to stop judging books by their covers.

“BLT good with you?” Monroe asked as she unloaded an assortment of ingredients from the fridge to the countertop. “I probably won’t be working my ass out anytime in the near future, so I might as well eat some bacon to really make it fun.”

“Absolutely,” I agreed, strolling up behind her and palming her butt cheeks. “Plus, I plan to work this ass out plenty in the near future, so no worries, beautiful girl. You should make it double bacon.”

With a soft chuckle, she rolled her eyes. “You’re so silly, Ollie.”

The sound of her laughter, as light as it was, swelled in my chest after having watched her cry on and off throughout the day, and I couldn’t resist the urge to scoop her up in my arms and kiss her senseless. It had killed me to watch her so distraught and unable to do anything to fix it, and then on top of that, because we were in public all day, I had to limit the amount of physical comforting and affection I could show her in case someone was watching.

After the close call with Effie at both the MH house and at the holiday party, Monroe and I had made an extra effort to appear as platonic as possible while in public—though the more in love we fell with each other, the harder it became. Effie never mentioned anything about either of the occurrences, as I’d managed to make up a story on the spot about why I’d returned to Boston early when I’d ran into her at the aquarium that night, but afterward, there were times when Monroe and I would be talking about work stuff and I’d notice her eavesdropping from another room or eyeing us suspiciously. I never said anything to Monroe, because I didn’t want to cause a rift between her and her assistant. Besides, once everything was worked out with Colin, Effie would find out eventually.

We just needed to hold out for two more weeks . . . because, of course, the Patriot’s had won in Denver earlier that night. It was as if the more I rooted for them to lose, the better they became, and my negative energy had propelled them straight to the Super Bowl.
I knew there was a reason I didn’t like sports before all this
.

Once I’d pressed my lips to every square inch of her face and neck, I finally lowered her back to the ground to let her resume the sandwich-making, which I assisted with by slicing tomatoes and washing lettuce. We ate without much talking, the weight of the unknown with JoJo still hanging heavily over our heads, and after the mess was cleaned up, Monroe decided to boil some water for a nighttime herbal tea she claimed would help us rest better. I had no doubt the second my head hit the pillow, I’d be out like a light, but if she wanted one and thought it would help, I was more than happy to appease her and drink some of it.

“Come here, love. Let me try to massage some of that tension out while we wait.” I motioned for her to follow me into the living room where I plopped down on the oversized couch and she subsequently sat cross-legged on the floor in front of me.

She melted into my firm touch while I kneaded deep circles in the taut muscles around her neck, shoulders, and back. The small moans escaping her barely-parted lips involuntarily prompted a rise behind the zipper of my jeans, and by the time my fingers inched their way up into her hair, working her scalp and behind her ears, my dick was rock-hard and throbbing.

Leaning back into the pressure, her head rested right up against my crotch, and although my initial intentions were solely focused on helping her relax, my shaft twitched at her closeness. I groaned and shifted my legs in an attempt to reposition her, but instead of moving away from my erection, she turned around to face me, pushing up on her knees so that her mouth hovered directly over my cock.

“Looks like you need some stress relief too,” she murmured, allowing her lips to graze across the raised denim, her emerald eyes heavy with a mixture of exhaustion and arousal.

I hissed in response, my self-control no match for the breathtaking sight she was, kneeling in front of me, bathed in the iridescent moonlight streaming in from the glass patio doors. “Fuck, Monroe,” I rasped as I clung to the last few threads of resolve I had left. “You’re so goddamn beautiful. You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Then show me,” she whispered while her mouth traced the outline of my bulge, our gazes locked on each other’s the entire time. “Help me forget today. Even if it’s just for a little while. Make love to me, Ollie.”

An equal-part combination of love and lust stormed through me and I snapped, succumbing to my carnal needs and the irresistible desire to please her. Whatever my Rizzo wanted, I gave her.

We lunged at each other, colliding in a feverish, frenzied kiss, complete with tangling tongues and gnashing teeth. The overwhelming fatigue I’d felt only minutes prior was replaced with sensual adrenaline jetting through my veins. Our impatient hands tugged, yanked, and jerked at our clothes until we were both fully undressed and left with no barriers to explore each other’s body.

Scooting back on the sofa, I pulled her down on top of me so that she was straddling my lap and her slick warmth was nestled snug against my cock. The shrill whistle of the kettle pierced the air as I drew one of her nipples into my mouth, sucking hard and flicking the rosy bud with my tongue, but neither of us cared a damn thing about the tea any longer. Monroe closed her eyes and whimpered, knotting her fingers in my hair while grinding against my length.

“Yes . . . yes . . . yes,” she mumbled over and over, losing herself in our connection. “That’s it. Feels so good.”

As I switched the attention of my mouth to her other nipple, I grabbed hold of her hips and lifted her up so that I could lower her down onto my shaft. Watching her ride me while I played with her tits had to be in the top three of my most favorite things to do ever, but just as my tip glided through her slippery folds and found the heat of her core, the neighbor’s dog began barking and growling out back, loudly and persistently. I tried to ignore it at first, focusing on the exquisite woman in front of me and all of the ways I could make her feel incredible, but after a couple of minutes of the high-pitched yapping, I stilled and shook my head with a frustrated chuckle.

We both peered outside the glass doors to see if we saw anything unusual, and I asked, “Any chance he’ll stop anytime soon?”

“Doubtful. All the people out celebrating the win probably have him all riled up.” She smiled and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. “But we shouldn’t be able to hear him in my room. Let’s go upstairs.”

“What about the tea?” I questioned, glancing toward the kitchen.

With a wicked smirk, she wiggled her ass and whispered, “Screw the tea. You’re all I need to put me to sleep.”

Pushing to my feet with her wrapped securely around me, I didn’t need to be told twice. I stopped briefly to turn the stovetop off, and then less than a minute later, I was flat on my back in her bed, gazing up as she bounced up and down on my shaft and rolled her hips in perfect little circles. The only noises to be heard were the moans, grunts, and pleadings from the two of us as we chased our release and climaxed together, breathlessly and magnificently. Afterward, I cleaned us both up and ran downstairs to grab our clothes strewn about the living room then crawled back into her bed and snuggled her as close to me as humanly possible, reminding her of how much I loved her.

We fell asleep shortly thereafter, only to be awakened a handful of hours later to the sound of someone pounding relentlessly on the door downstairs.

“i wanted what we had together to

burst into a display of iridescent

shooting stars, but we all know

how piercing the battle of wants

and happenings can be.

in the rubble i became,

i thought;

‘love is just as much

of a poison as it is

a victory.’”

–Christopher Poindexter

Monroe

“WHAT IN THE
world are you doing here so early? And why are you at the backdoor?” I grumbled as I opened the French doors to let a distraught-looking Seth inside.