He didn’t allow me to answer. My clit, still sensitized from earlier, got a tweak from his finger and I had to concentrate on that while my hips twitched.

“Yeah,” he growled with satisfaction.

“You’re annoying,” I breathed, squirming.

“Challenge, Amy. Repeat that when you’re sittin’ on my face in five minutes.”

Oh God.

I kept squirming.

He swept the bedclothes off me.

“Lift your hips, baby. Wanna see that ass working for me.”

Oh God.

I lifted my hips.

Mickey kept at me until he was done with that and he dragged me onto his face.

It took a while to get to the fucking but it was a pleasurable while, and when we were again clothed and tangled under the covers, I had no smartass left in me.

So I fell asleep in the arms of my guy knowing soon we’d be lazing around in the sun of the Florida Keys and I’d be doing it wearing the huge-ass rock he was going to give me.

* * * * *

I walked into my house, past my beloved dining room table, straight to the kitchen.

I put my purse and bag on the counter, turned to go to the fridge to assess dinner options and stopped dead.

I stood and stared.

It took a while for me to reanimate my body. But when I did, I shuffled sideways, my gaze glued to the wall beyond the dining room table.

Blindly, I dug into my purse until I found my phone. I activated it without looking at it and continued not to look at it as I did what I had to do by rote, lifted it to my mouth and demanded, “Call, Mickey.”

I put it to my ear.

“Hey,” he greeted after one ring.

“Hey back,” I whispered.

He said nothing.

I stared at the wall.

On it was my Mother’s Day present.

Mickey in cahoots with the kids had arranged for a photographer to come to the house when the bluebells had taken over.

Mickey had been right. When they bloomed they were so profuse it looked like Cliff Blue was floating on a cloud of flowers over the sea.

It was the physical manifestation of my world. The home I shared with my loved ones suspended in beauty.