Harkham's Corner (Harkham's Series Book 3) by Chanse Lowell, Lynch Marti Page B

crossed her eyes.
    Choppy looked like that sometimes when begging for food or when she was scared no one would feed her.
    This woman really needed to eat.
    “You’re brother? I don’t understand.” She shook her head and looked completely confused, yet still very guilty. “My name’s Ryan, and I have to ask you something . . .”
    “Mrs. Fahey,” he said in a clear, concise tone, “there is not an answer for what you want to ask. You will have to make decisions, but I’m not a part of them. I’m not going to make the choices for you. My soda’s getting warm. Goodbye.”
    He took off his borrowed doctor’s coat, draped it over his arm and left.
    She was still inside there, like a trapped animal.
    Well, maybe someone would feed her.
    It wouldn’t be him, though. He only fed Choppy, and that was it.
    He knew what kind of tasty treats his pal liked.
     
    * * *
     
    Lick!
    A soft warm tongue ran up Adam’s leg.
    “I’ll feed you later, Choppy. I’m sleeping,” he said, rolling over.
    “I’ll tell Choppy you said her meal needs to wait,” Mari said, chuckling.
    Another wet lick ran up his thigh.
    “Huh?” He groaned as something even softer, a little less wet, got closer to his groin.
    He stirred a little.
    “What do you think Choppy would say if she could talk?” He started to answer, but she interrupted with, “Besides that you’re a man. Right now, that’s very obvious.” She took his solid dick in her hand.
    Oh, but he was hard. Very.
    And he throbbed a little.
    “She might say that we make cute puppies?” He wiped his eyes.
    She wiped his leaking tip with her tongue.
    “God, that’s . . . I need to wake up more before you do that,” he said and then laughed at his ridiculous statement.
    “Really? You’re telling me you don’t like waking up this way?” She pinched his inner thigh the way he did when he wanted to keep her from crying out during orgasm.
    “I do, but I . . .” He yanked her up to face him. “But I . . . I need to talk to you about something first.”
    “About what?” She snuggled up to his chest, wrapping an arm around his ribs.
    “Secrets.”
    “Oh, that .” She sighed. “We already talked about it, and I haven’t pressured you, have I?”
    “Only mean wives do that, and you’re never mean.”
    She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, whatever. I beg to differ. I’ve been a raging lunatic lately with the way the baby’s been nursing amongst other stressors.”
    “Button just knows what he likes.” He yawned and stretched a little.
    “Yeah—he’s exactly like his dad—a breast man.” She blew across his nipple.
    He giggled, but he knew he was still a man. Men could giggle when their sensitive nipples were messed with. He was sure of it.
    She blew once more, but he covered it with his hand. “You’re distracting me.”
    “I know.” She cupped his balls.
    “I . . . I want to tell you now,” he said, trying again to get her mind off sex.
    “Later. You usually decide when and how we make love . . . Well, this time I need it.” She straddled him and stared in his eyes. “Sometimes I like to know you’ll let me do this.”
    He reached up to cup her breasts, but she winced and deflected his hands away. “They’re too raw right now. You can touch them again in a few days.”
    He frowned. “If Button doesn’t know who those belong to, then I’ll talk to him.”
    “He knows they’re mine.”
    “Wrong.” He gripped her waist and moved her where he wanted her. “I’m the man. I own this house. I own the car. I own these.” He stared at her chest.
    “I know you do, sweetie. I was only trying to bring out the caveman so you’d bite and attack me.” She held back what looked like a big laugh.
    “You’d provoke me just for sex?” He wiggled under her.
    “Of course. I’d do a whole lot more than that for sex with you.” She blew him a kiss and then rested her palms on his chest.
    This view was better than being up on that stage when he was playing his