by Harper Bliss
“I want to know what I’ve missed,” I say.
Angela shakes her head. “We should look to the future instead of the past.”
I nod. “Okay.” Inside the house, my phone starts ringing. I roll my eyes. “I bet you a thousand bucks that’s Carl.”
Angela just quirks up her eyebrows.
“I’d better get it. He can be a bit relentless about these things.” I go inside and locate my phone. Carl’s name appears on the screen. As I press the answer button, I let my glance wander outside, where it lands on the back of Angela’s head. With the way I’m feeling, there’s no way I can hide this from my son.
13
Angela
“He’s my son,” Jackie says. “There’s really nothing to be nervous about.”
“So you keep saying, yet look at my hands.” I hold up a trembling hand.
“Well, then, let me try another approach.” Jackie steps closer. “I’m sure Carl’s just as nervous as you are.”
“I find myself wishing you hadn’t told him about our previous affair. I feel like it puts me at a disadvantage.”
Jackie shakes her head. “Carl’s a grown man.” She cocks her head. “Most of the time, anyway. When he’s not acting like bridezilla personified.”
I hear a car in the driveway.
“They’re here.” Jackie pulls me into a quick hug. “It’s going to be fine,” she whispers in my ear. “I raised him.” She chuckles and because we’re standing so close, her laugh reverberates through my body. It relaxes me a little.
Jackie heads to the back door to greet her son and his fiancé, Beau. What I haven’t told her is that, as much as I’m nervous about Carl’s reaction to me, I’m equally worried about my reaction to him. For the longest time, I considered Jackie’s son the very reason why she couldn’t be with me.
“Hello, Momma,” I hear.
I can’t stand around here any longer. I’d better follow Jackie into the kitchen.
Carl throws his arms wide the instant he clocks me. “Angela,” he says in a solemn tone. “How exquisite to finally meet you.”
The boy—well, man—gathers me in his arms and embraces me. His hug is not tight, but measured. I hug him back with the same level of trepidation. In my job, I have to be able to read people, often in an instant, but Jackie’s son is a tough one.
“This is Beau.” A man who looks like the quintessential perfect son-in-law, as advertised in many a television show along the years, holds out his hand. He’s not a hugger then.
I shake Beau’s hand and respond to his wide smile with my own. Because of my relationship non-history, I’ve always managed to avoid introductions to parents but I conclude meeting a lover’s children must be similar. Wanting to make a good impression. The unreasonable, yet gnawing fear of not being instantly liked.
“Let’s sit outside,” Jackie says. “There’s a bottle of something upmarket in the fridge.”
“I’ll do the honors, Mom,” Carl says. “You ladies sit down.”
Jackie puts an arm around my shoulder as we head out to the patio. “See,” she says, after we’ve sat down. “The worst is over now.”
I crane my neck to look inside. Beau is standing in the kitchen with a bottle of champagne in his hands while Carl takes glasses out of a cupboard. They’re not huddled over in a gossipy, conspiratorial stance. I turn back around to face Jackie and inhale deeply. She’s right. That first moment of dread has passed. It will be all right.
“Here’s to Mom having a plus-one for my wedding.” Carl holds up his glass.
Beau rolls his eyes. “Once you get to know him better, you’ll find Carl has quite the knack for bringing everything back to himself.” He holds up his glass as well. “It’s very nice to meet you, Angela, regardless of Jackie coming to the wedding alone or not.”
I bring my glass to his. Jackie has talked to me about the wedding, of course. It’s only a few weeks away and it’s the main topic of conversation between her and her son. But we haven’t actually discussed me accompanying her. Perhaps it’s implied because I’ve spent most of the remainder of my sick leave in her company, even staying in her house while she’s at work. It has done wonders for my convalescence. Or maybe it’s all the mind-blowing orgasms I’ve been having. A smile flits over my lips.
“Wonderful to meet you, too. I’ve heard so much about the two of you.”
“You will come, won’t you?” Jackie has turned to me, her intense gaze resting on me. “You’re free on the tenth of July?”
“I may need to go shopping first, but yes, of course I will.”
“Oh, don’t worry, girl,” Carl exclaims. “You have a fine figure and I have some ideas running through my head already. Mom’s wearing this beautiful, eye-catching, very mother-of-the-bride purple dress and I was thinking—”
“Carl,” Jackie says with glee in her voice. “Angela’s a grown woman perfectly capable of dressing herself.”
Carl purses his lips, then takes a sip of champagne. He puts his glass down and throws his hands in the air dramatically. “Suit yourself.” He narrows his eyes. “Quite literally, actually.” He breaks out into a wide smile—it’s the kind of smile that would light up even the darkest room. “But put me on speed dial in case of any sartorial emergencies nonetheless.”
“Good grief, will I be happy when this wedding is over.” Beau winks at me. “We can finally get on with our lives.”
“Speak for yourself, darling,” Carl says, then regards me intently. “Now let’s not be rude. Perhaps we should talk about something other than the wedding. Angela, you’re a cop, just like my dad.”
I’m not sure whether this is a jibe at his mother cheating on his father with me twenty years ago. I return Carl’s gaze and don’t spot any malice in it. I see a lot of Jackie in it as well. Glimmers of good-naturedness. And what did she say earlier? That she raised him. This is just me making silly assumptions in my head.
“I am and have been for many years.” The past three months I may not have felt like much of a police officer, but I’m going back to work on Monday. I’ve been officially cleared—physically and mentally.
I glance at Carl and Beau, then at the view behind them, and consider that, if it weren’t for me being a cop, I would never have met Jackie. And if that perp hadn’t shot me, I wouldn’t be enjoying this moment with Jackie’s family. Sometimes, it takes a stroke of bad luck to have another go at happiness.
14
Jackie
I hold the dress in front of me and peer at my reflection in the mirror.
“To be honest, I was quite surprised when Carl told me you’d be wearing a dress,” Angela says, lying on the bed.
I pivot and, while still holding up the dress, I bat my lashes. “Why would you say such a thing, Officer Hill?”
“Officer?” Angela quirks up her eyebrows. “That’s Detective Hill to you.” She pushes herself up. She doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to get ready for the event my son has been dreaming of most of his life.
Angela hops off the bed. She halts right in front of me and rubs the dress between her fingers. “Let me show off my detecting skills for you. What material is this?” She brings the dress to eye level. “Hm, my powers of deduction seem to be eluding me at the moment.” She gently tugs the dress towards her. “Why don’t you give me this so I can inspect it a little closer.”
I hand her the dress and as soon as she has it in her hands, she drapes it over the bed.
“Hey,” I protest. “I need to put that on asap.”
Angela shakes her head. “My powers of deduction have concluded that you have, at the very least, five more minutes.” She rakes her eyes over my body. I’m only wearing panties. My pulse picks up speed. Angela pushes me against the wardrobe, against the mirrored door I was inspecting myself in minutes ago. I let her. Any protest I’d put up, now that she’s pressing herself against me, would sound incredibly insincere.
“You never look more gorgeous than when you’re dressed like
this,” Angela whispers in my ear, then proceeds to kiss my neck. She kisses a path to my mouth and presses her lips to mine.
I run my fingers over her arms. We’ve been all over each other for weeks, almost inseparable since we spent that first night together. We’re making up for lost time, and there’s a lot of time to make up for.
Angela knows time is of the essence now and starts kissing my neck again. Her lips descend and she takes each of my nipples into her mouth until they’re as hard as bullets. Inside of me, lust surges. Angela’s lips on my skin are all I dream about, all I think about. She traces a path down and sinks to her knees in front of me.
She plants hot kisses above the waistband of my panties before kissing my nether lips over the fabric. She wraps her mouth over my clit and I press my palms against the wardrobe for support. Her hot mouth pulls back and my clit pulses with need against my panties. Angela hooks her fingers underneath and pulls my underwear all the way down. I step out of them and spread my legs. My body hums with anticipation, my clit throbs with desire as I stand there, ready for her.
Angela glances up at me. We don’t say anything, just share this look, this moment of extreme intimacy between us, and then she leans in.
I delve my fingers into her hair as she flicks her tongue over my wanting clit.
My knees buckle a little at her touch. When she sucks my clit all the way into her mouth, I feel like my legs might give out entirely. Angela Hill, I think. The woman I love. Because I do. I can’t realistically claim I’ve loved her for twenty years, yet as I stand here, pressed against my closet—the one I refused to come out of for her when I, perhaps, should have—while she has her mouth all over my clit, it sure feels as though I’ve loved no one else the way I’ve loved her. Despite the fleetingness of our first encounter, its power has always remained with me.
“Oh, Angela,” I moan, because I like to say her name when she goes down on me—because I like how it sounds in this particular situation and, simply, because I can. No one else’s name will roll off my tongue during this particular act ever again.
Angela’s tongue flicks with more intensity—and she knows what I like by now. We’ve made up for a lot of lost time already. My clit is so sensitive to the ministrations of her tongue. I delve my fingertips into her scalp, needing something to hold on to, something of her. She licks and flicks and it all blends into a burst of pure joy, of delicious heat streaming through me, coursing to my extremities and back.
“Oh, Angela,” I moan again. “Angela. I love you.”
THE END
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About the Author
Harper Bliss is the author of the Pink Bean series, the High Rise series, the French Kissing serial and many other lesbian romance titles. She is the co-founder of Ladylit Publishing and My LesFic weekly newsletter.
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Also by Harper Bliss
For a complete list of all Harper Bliss titles, please visit harperbliss.com/books
No Strings Attached (Pink Bean Series - Book 1)
#1 Bestseller in Lesbian Romance on Amazon
It’s never too late to find the right person… and yourself along the way.
Micky Ferro has lived her entire life according to other people’s expectations. She married a man, had two children, and became a dutiful stay-at-home mom in suburban Sydney. Until she realized, with a little help from her best friend, that her picture-perfect life wasn’t making her happy.
On the first anniversary of her divorce, Micky decides it’s time for the next step in her journey and gets a job at her neighborhood coffeeshop, The Pink Bean. Becoming a barista sparks a big change in Micky’s daily routine, but could loud-spoken American customer Robin do the same for her love life?
Don’t miss the first book in this heart-warming new series from the bestselling author of the French Kissing and High Rise series.
BUY HERE
Seasons of Love
#1 Bestseller in Lesbian Romance on Amazon
Is age really just a number?
Alice McAllister is a successful solicitor who likes a quiet, disciplined life. But when her business partner Miranda forces her to take a vacation at her holiday home in Portugal, the presence of Miranda’s daughter Joy turns Alice’s world up-side down.
Despite their age difference, Alice and Joy embark on a fiery holiday romance… until they have to return home to London.
Will Alice be able to forget about Joy and what she has awakened in her? And how can she face Joy’s mother without guilt after such a passionate summer fling?
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In the Distance There Is Light
#1 Bestseller in Lesbian Romance on Amazon
Two women lose the man they love. All they have left is each other.
Sophie’s life is turned upside down when her partner, Ian, dies in a tragic accident. The only one who can understand her devastation is Ian’s stepmother, Dolores. Together, they try to make sense of their loss and rebuild their shattered lives. While their shared grief brings them closer, it also takes their relationship in an unexpected direction. Where does sorrow end and romance begin? Or has Ian’s death blurred the lines too much?
If you love deeply emotional lesbian romance with a twinge of controversy, don’t miss this intense but hopeful novel by chart-topper Harper Bliss.
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Copyright © 2018 by Harper Bliss
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Cover picture © Depositphotos / KateNovikova / losw / ellandar
Cover design by Caroline Manchoulas
Published by Ladylit Publishing - Hong Kong
ISBN: 978-988-78014-7-4