Rare and Precious Things (The Blackstone Affair #4)(57)
Author: Raine Miller

I covered the head of his c**k with my mouth and slid him to the back of my throat.

SHE gave me everything I needed. I don’t know how she knew what that was precisely, or when I needed it, but Brynne always knew the right thing to do.

After she got me off with her beautiful mouth, I returned the favour, relishing the exquisite feel of my very warm, and very safe place, shuddering beneath my lips, and convulsing around my tongue. I heard her call my name more than a few times before I was done with pleasuring her.

Later, we fell asleep together, spooning on our sides while I was still inside her, and slept that way for hours.

Best sleep of my life—with my precious girl wrapped around me.

I didn’t forget to be thankful.

CHAPTER 18

24th January

Somerset

LAND Rover knew how to make luxury vehicles, and I’d learned that information firsthand. I loved my car, and now that I’d gotten the hang of driving lefty, I was venturing out more than ever before. I think sometimes, Ethan might have second-guessed his birthday gift to me. Too late now, Blackstone. But he’d just have to deal with it. I was the driver in the family for the time being. He had a cast he could walk on, but only using crutches. He needed a few more weeks of bone-healing time before he put much weight on his left leg. He’d still have the cast when the baby was born. Something that annoyed him greatly, I knew, but he didn’t complain about it. I didn’t complain either. We both knew how much of a blessing it was to have him in the cast…over the unbearable alternative of him not being here at all. Hell, I loved that damn, inconvenient cast.

I’d left Ethan at Zara’s mercy. Tea party today. I don’t think he really minded a bit. In fact, he’d seemed quite into the whole thing, even putting on a velvet jacket and a fancy bow tie- cravat thingy. I took pictures of them together with my camera. They would be priceless keepers for sure. Robbie’s wife, Ellen, had made the prettiest spread for them, iced cupcakes and strawberries, and tea, of course, with milk and sugar. I would’ve stayed and joined in, but I needed my twice-weekly massage more than I needed tea and cake. Especially now that I was bigger and experiencing all kinds of aches and pains. Back pain, pelvic pain, and even the occasional headache. The massages helped me so very much.

I’d been enjoying regular massages since Christmas, when Ethan purchased a decadent amount of treatments for me to enjoy. God, my man gave the best gifts. But after we’d made the decision to spend his recuperation time at Stonewell, I was in need of somebody local to help me get through the final weeks of the pregnancy. Enter Diane, who took very good care of me with her Aromatherapy and Reflexology talents, and thanks to Hannah pointing me in the right direction.

I pulled up to her little shop called Treats, and parked on the street. The historic village of Kilve was tiny, but complete with a seventeenth-century coaching inn called The Hood Arms, a thirteenth-century church named St. Mary’s, and its famous fossil-laden shore at Kilve Beach. It looked like an old postcard to me, and was so very peaceful. I think both Ethan and I instinctively understood that the peace of this place, combined with its natural outdoor beauty, was exactly what we needed, and doing us more good than anything else could. We planned to stay at Stonewell until mid-February. So, we’d be in London, where Dr. Burnsley was standing by with his superior medical experience, to deliver our Laurel-Thomas, hopefully by my due-date on the 28th of February.

As I walked to enter Diane’s shop, a beautiful young dog got up from underneath the sidewalk-table where he’d been sitting. He wagged his tail enthusiastically and hunkered down to greet me in that universal way dogs have of showing you they are friendly. “Well, hello there, handsome.” I bent down and pet the top of his head, the fur thick and dark around his face, but more amber on his chest and belly. He wasn’t a small puppy, but more like an adolescent dog, and he was definitely a he. I knew his breed—German Shepherd—and thought he was absolutely beautiful. “What’s your name, gorgeous boy? Are you waiting for your owner?” I spoke to him as I rubbed through his silky fur, loving the color of his golden eyes. He licked my hand and leaned into me as I gave him some attention, wondering why he had no leash or collar on him. Surely he belonged to somebody.

He looked at me solemnly when I stood up to go inside the shop for my appointment. “I have to go in now, fella,” I said.

He barked once as if he were saying, “Don’t go…” It rather broke my heart to leave him.

“NOW I need a very long nap, Diane. God, that was wonderful.” I complimented her and rolled my neck, breathing in the aromatic oils she used at the shop. As I handed her my card to pay, I heard the bark again. And there he was, staring in through the glass of the shop window, wagging his tail at me.

“Looks like you have an admirer, Brynne,” Diane chuckled. “I bet he’d go home with you, if you allowed him.”

“He would?” But what about his owner? “Who does he belong to?”

“He’s a stray. Just showed up a few days ago, and has been lingering around the shops for scraps. It’s so sad what people do to innocent animals. Especially the big ones, as he will be when he reaches his full growth. The larger dogs get abandoned, dumped on the side of the road.” She shook her head and grimaced disgustedly. “Arseholes ought to be abandoned to the cold with no food or shelter, and see how they like it.” Diane looked out the window at him. “I’ve been putting out some food, as has Lowell from next door because we don’t want him to starve, but he really needs a home, and a family. A big dog like that needs open space where he can run.” She winked at me with her pretty hazel eyes. “He would make an excellent guard dog and protector. I imagine your husband would very much approve.”

“LET me do all of the talking, okay?” We shared a look with each other, his round golden eyes lifting up to hold mine as if he understood me. The new leather collar and leash looked good on him. And he was fluffy and clean now, thanks to Diane pointing us in the direction of the pet supply and groomers, where her son, Clark, just happened to work. With Clark’s helpful assistance, I chose dog food, a bed, dishes for food and water, and even some doggy chew-toys, while he was being bathed and groomed. Then Clark loaded everything into the back of my Rover, and waved cheerfully to me as I drove away. And just like that, the decision was made.

The drive home was fun, and I don’t think I ever stopped grinning once. I had a furry passenger sitting in the front beside me with a seat belt strapped across his chest. My dog. I could tell he loved me already.