Southern Girl Series Bundle: Bohemian Girl, Neighbor Girl, Intern Girl

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Southern Girl Series Bundle: Bohemian Girl, Neighbor Girl, Intern Girl Page 18

by Georgia Cates


  “I just met her. It’s too soon to know something like that.”

  “You totally are. Or at least you’re well on your way to falling.” Bridgette shakes her head. “Shit. I never thought I’d see the day.”

  “Me either.” I suppose that’s the opposite of a denial.

  “Does she know about us and our marriage?”

  “Yeah. She was completely fine with the whole thing. Completely nonjudgmental.”

  “Well, she’d be the first. Did you tell her about Eli?”

  “I told her everything.”

  “You’re such a dumbass, Bou.”

  What? “How the fuck did I suddenly become a dumbass?”

  “I knew this was going to happen one day.”

  Bridgette looks as though she could cry. And I’m lost. “You knew what was going to happen?”

  “You had that stupid vasectomy and now you’ve found the one.”

  Bridgette is jumping the gun. “Whoa. Don’t put the cart before the horse. I like Lawrence a lot, but I don’t want to marry her and start having sick kids.”

  Bridgette’s mouth forms a hard line. “You’re such a motherfucker for saying that.”

  “Why? You know where I stand on this issue.”

  “You might as well say that I shouldn’t have had Aubrey and Tripp because they could have had health problems.”

  “You and I have made different choices in our lives. Taking a chance on having those beautiful babies was the right decision for you and Warren. But it’s not the right decision for me.”

  “It can be the right decision for you with the right woman. What if she’s the one for you? She could give you healthy children.”

  “I don’t want to try.”

  I can’t handle it again. The terror in Bridgette’s eyes. The pain. The deep, soul-destroying depression. Losing my lively, sweet friend to the shell of despair she became.

  Holding my beloved son as he took his last breath—it ripped my heart out.

  No. Never again.

  “Your babies would be healthy if she doesn’t have the gene for renal agenesis. Does anyone in her family have one kidney?”

  “I don’t know and I’m not asking.” It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ve had a vasectomy. No babies will ever be fathered again by this dick.

  “I don’t understand you, Boudreaux. You could have beautiful, healthy babies with her.”

  “What if something different goes wrong?” I couldn’t stand to see another woman that I love go through that, especially one I was in love with.

  “That’s such irrational bullshit. The brakes on your truck could fail, but does that keep you from driving it?”

  “Lawrence knows about my vasectomy and it isn’t a problem for her.”

  “Let’s have this conversation again in six months and see if she’s still okay with it. No, I don’t even give it three months before she’s talking to you about reversing it.”

  I know what Bridgette is thinking but she’s wrong. Lawrence isn’t like other women. She won’t pressure me to reverse the vasectomy because she understands how strongly I feel about not fathering children.

  But if she does, that’s going to be a problem.

  Eleven fucking days. I left Savannah believing that our reunion would be here before we knew it. I even thought the topless pics Lawrence texted me might ease our time apart. Wrong. So very wrong. I had no idea that it would feel like an eternity.

  We decided she should come to Birmingham this trip since Bridgette and Warren have four tickets to the James Bay concert. And now that the time has come, it feels weird. I’ve done all kinds of concerts and festivals with Bridgette and Warren, but I’ve never brought a woman along. This should be interesting.

  I hope Bridgette keeps her big mouth shut about the whole marriage and baby thing. Sometimes she operates under the misconception that she knows what’s right for everyone else when they don’t. And this includes me.

  I finally see Lawrence’s vintage Wagoneer coming up my drive. Fuck, I hope Bridgette doesn’t see what she drives. I’m sure she’ll have some kind of comment about it being perfect for hauling around kids.

  Lawrence gets out of her vehicle and dashes toward me. She crashes against my chest and her arms wrap around my shoulders. I grip the backs of her upper thighs and lift her from the ground so she’s wrapped around me. “Damn, I missed you.”

  She kisses every inch of my face as though I’m going to disappear. “I missed you, too.”

  I carry her through the front door and kick it closed with my foot. We land on the sofa, her on top of me.

  “Being apart was awful, wasn’t it? Tell me that it wasn’t just me.”

  I can’t remember ever being more miserable. “Being without you for so long was fucking brutal.”

  She grasps my face and her mouth descends on mine. Our teeth bump but it doesn’t stop our tongues from rolling in waves against each other.

  Now, this is one helluva greeting. I hope I always get this kind of heated reunion from her.

  “Sorry. I’m a little excited. I had the whole drive here to think about what it was going to be like to see you again.”

  Six hours of driving gives you time to think about a lot of things.

  “Bridgette and Warren want to go out for dinner before the concert. It’s their first outing since Tripp was born and they want to make the most of it.”

  Lawrence grinds her pelvis against me. “Dinner before the show means that we won’t have time to play.”

  I would love to have some playtime with her right now. “I’ll tell them we can’t make it for dinner.”

  “I hate to do that. I’m sure they’re looking forward to a kid-free night.”

  “I’ll do whatever you want, babe.”

  She sighs loudly and I know it’s a sign she’s conceding. “We’ll go; I don’t want to disappoint them.”

  “We have two days. We’ll make it count.”

  She holds up her hand displaying three fingers. “We actually have three. I asked Winter to take Monday so I could stay over Sunday night too.”

  Three nights with Lawrence instead of two. “That’s fantastic news.”

  “What time are we going to dinner?”

  “Supposed to meet them in an hour but traffic will probably be chaotic. Can you be ready to go in thirty minutes?”

  “Even if I put on a little makeup I can be ready in fifteen.”

  “Beautiful and low maintenance. Love it.”

  Bridgette used to piss me off so bad taking forever to get ready. That’s Warren’s problem now.

  As promised, Lawrence is ready in fifteen minutes and lovely as ever. “Denim shorts and a tank top okay for the restaurant and an outdoor concert?”

  “It’s a bar and grill that serves vegan. Very casual so you look perfect.”

  I lean against the back of the couch and pull her to stand between my legs. She wraps her arms around my shoulders as I slip my hands into the back pockets of her shorts, squeezing her booty. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

  “I am too.”

  “I’ve been working on Oliver, getting him used to seeing me fully committed to a girlfriend. You may not know it but I walk the line for you. And it’s a fine one.”

  “A fine line, huh? I like that.” Lawrence puts her hands on my chest and rubs my nipples through my T-shirt. “You’re with Ollie almost every day. When you feel as though he’s ready to hear about us, I’m all in.”

  “He’s not there yet, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to wait too long either.”

  “Whatever you think is best for your working relationship.”

  I pull her close and inhale deeply. Damn, I’ve missed this smell. “This bar and grill has some great specialty drinks. Would you want to go on a little early and grab one?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “They’ll probably be late anyway. Bridge doesn’t have the best track record for being on time and adding another kid to the equation isn’t going
to speed things up.”

  “Poor thing. We should go over there and help make things easier on them.”

  I look at the time. “We still can. It might help them get out the door a little faster.”

  Her eyes widen and she smiles. “Let’s do. I would love to see Aubrey again and meet little Tripp.”

  “All right. And then we can get them to chauffeur us so we can drink as much as we want without worrying about driving.”

  “Ain’t nobody got time for a DUI and rehab for a damn month to get out of it.”

  “I know that’s right.”

  She gasps when we walk out. “No! Someone has stolen Josephine.”

  Where does she come up with these damn names for her means of transportation? “Calm down. I moved Josephine around back while you were getting ready. We can’t leave her out front in case Oliver comes by.”

  Lawrence’s hand is over her heart as though she was truly about to have some kind of panic attack. “Right. I should have thought of that.”

  I follow Lawrence to the passenger door of my truck and open it for her. “Such a gentleman.”

  “You won’t call me that later tonight.”

  “I look forward to that.”

  Warren is the one who answers the door. “It’s gone to hell in a fucking handbasket.”

  No surprise there. “We suspected as much. That’s why we’re here.”

  “The babysitter is late, Bridgette can’t get ready because Tripp wants to nurse twenty-four-seven, I haven’t showered because Aubrey is acting out and doesn’t want us to leave.”

  Warren leans in and kisses the side of Lawrence’s cheek. “By the way, it’s nice to see you again. I’m sorry that you’re unsuspectingly walking into hell.”

  This carnival show is rolling on four flats. “What can we do to help?”

  “Whatever you’re willing to do.”

  Warren is too damn overwhelmed to even make that simple decision.

  Lawrence points at Warren. “You, go shower. Uncle Boudreaux, you entertain Bebelle. I’ll take Tripp so Bridgette can finish getting ready.”

  Warren nods. “That sounds like a fantastic plan.”

  Warren leaves and returns a moment later with Tripp, giving him to Lawrence. “Thank you for coming by and doing this. If you hadn’t shown up when you did, I don’t know if we’d have ever made it out the door.”

  “We’re happy to help.”

  Lawrence isn’t a wife or mother but she came into this house and took control as though she was. She brought calm to the storm.

  She sits on the sofa with Tripp. Placing him on her lap, she bends over him and makes eye contact. “Hello there, little guy. Are you using your mama as a pacifier? I think you are.”

  Her voice is soft and soothing and it gains Tripp’s attention.

  He grasps her thumbs and she kisses his tiny fingers. “He’s so cute, Lucas.”

  “I told you he was awesome.”

  “He is indeed.” She picks him up and presses his cheek to hers. “What a precious little snuggle bug.”

  Aubrey runs into the room and tackles my leg. I pick her up and toss her into the air. “There’s my Bebelle. How is my girl?”

  “Good.”

  Aubrey looks over and sees Lawrence. “Wren.” I can’t believe she remembers calling her that.

  Aubrey goes to her when Lawrence holds out her arm, inviting her to sit next to her. “Come here and hug me, doll.”

  Aubrey snuggles under Lawrence’s arm like a chick beneath her mother’s wing. “What do you think of your little brother?”

  “He cries a lot. I wish he was a sister.”

  “I have a baby brother too. Well, he’s not a baby anymore but he was a long time ago. I didn’t like him much at first because he cried and stole my toys, but then he got a little older. And you know what happened?”

  “What?”

  “He became my best friend and he still is. I know you love Tripp even if you may not be crazy about him right now and that’s okay. It’ll change one day and Tripp will be your best friend.”

  “’Kay.”

  Aubrey takes off running and Lawrence shrugs. “Well, I tried.”

  “Good effort.”

  Lawrence strokes her finger down the center of Tripp’s face from his forehead, down the slope of his nose, over his lips, ending at his chin. He closes his eyes each time she does it and before long, keeps them closed. “Is that baby voodoo?”

  “He’s fretful because he’s picking up on Bridgette’s anxiety. I’m just helping him relax.”

  Within minutes, Tripp is asleep.

  Lawrence brings his hand to her cheek and strokes it down her face. “Nothing is sweeter than a baby.”

  Shit. She loves babies. She is a natural with babies.

  Bridgette could be right. I may end up losing Lawrence because she wants things that I can’t give her.

  Things I won’t give her.

  18

  Lawrence Thorn

  The food at the bar and grill was delicious. The drinks were to die for and the concert was one of the best shows I’ve seen in a while. It’s been an excellent night although I’ve probably had more to drink than I should have.

  Bridgette stops the car in front of Lucas’s house. “Tonight was so much fun. I’m glad you were able to come, Lawrence.”

  “It was fun. Thank you again for giving us your extra tickets.”

  “Thank you for coming to our rescue earlier tonight. We’d probably still be trying to get out the door if you hadn’t.”

  “Happy to help.”

  Lucas opens his door and I slide over to get out behind him. “Thanks for the ride. We’ll come by and get my truck tomorrow.”

  “Whenever.”

  I wrap my arms around Lucas from behind while he digs for the keys in his pocket. “You are the first woman I’ve ever brought around them.”

  “Really?”

  “Swear.”

  “I hope I made a good impression.”

  “No worries. You did.”

  “They’re fun. And Bridgette cracks me up.”

  “She doesn’t have a filter.”

  “Something about this situation feels familiar.” I slide my hand into the front of his jeans and rub my hand up and down his cock. “I recall someone putting his hand in my panties while I was trying to open the door. I was so distracted I could hardly get it open.”

  “Definitely distracting.” He manages to get the key into the lock. “Mmm… damn, that feels good.”

  His cock grows harder and thicker and longer in my hand. “I think someone is glad to see me.”

  He swings the door wide. “I’ll be gladder to see you naked in my bed.”

  Twisting in my arms, he grabs my waist and pulls me against him as we clumsily pass through the entrance. “I want you in my bed right now.”

  “I’m good with that.”

  Lucas walks backward, kissing me the whole way while we strip out of our clothes. Both of us are naked by the time we make it to his bed. “Tell me what you want.”

  “You. Always you.”

  “Slow and sweet? Or fast and furious?”

  I guess most women would choose to make slow, sweet love after being apart for eleven days, but I’m in the mood for something heated and passionate.

  “Fuck me hard this time. We’ll take our time making love later.”

  “Woman, you’re hotter than a damn firecracker.” He kisses up my neck until his mouth covers my ear. “On the bed. Hands and knees. Ass up, baby.”

  “Oooh, sounds dirty. Me likey.”

  He slaps my naked ass and it stings, but not painfully. Whatever he has in mind, I’m in.

  “Do it, boho girl.” His voice is gruff. Demanding. Hot. “Face the headboard.”

  I crawl onto my all fours and do as he instructs. I feel the bed move when he crawls over me from behind. Hot skin is all I feel, except for the huge erection pressing against my butt cheek.

  Pressing his lips ag
ainst the back of my neck, he peppers my skin with kisses as he slowly moves to my shoulder. His teeth graze me and chills erupt over my entire body. My back arches as though I have no control over it. The way he makes my body respond is insane.

  Squirming beneath him, I rub my ass from side to side against his erection. One hand creeps around to my stomach and then moves lower where he begins to stroke me in that most delightful place. Each and every nerve ending from my waist down becomes ignited by his petting.

  “Hands on the headboard and lock your elbows.”

  Oh shit. What is he going to do to me?

  His hand abandons me in the front and his fingers toy with me from behind. They slide in and out softly and slowly at first but then his caress transitions into quick, jerky motions very much like tapping vibrations against the pleasure center nestled beneath my pelvic bone.

  Holy shit, what is he doing? And why has no one ever done this to me before?

  The tension in my body builds and my back stiffens. I’m trembling, waiting, biting my lip in desperation for whatever is coming.

  “You are about to come so hard.”

  Fuck, he ain’t lying.

  I’m a shuddering mess when the first wave hits. “Ohh… ohh… ohh.”

  The quaking begins in my core. Heat spreads. Nerves tingle. Muscles deep inside vibrate a series of contracting and relaxing. It’s too many sensations to withstand at once.

  This orgasm owns me.

  He owns me.

  “Tell me, boho girl. I want to hear you say it.”

  I know what he’s asking for. I don’t have to be told.

  “I’m yours,” I groan through gritted teeth as the sensation radiates down between my legs and finishes me off.

  He kisses me between my shoulder blades. “That’s my good girl.”

  I collapse face down on the bed, panting, and completely spent.

  “Not yet. We aren’t done.”

  But I want to lie here and bask in the bliss of my orgasmic aftermath.

  He wraps his arm around my waist and helps me back onto my hands and knees. “Assume the position. Hands on the headboard and don’t bend your elbows.”

  Let’s be honest about this. I’ll do whatever this man tells me to do in this moment.

 

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