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“For the record,” she added in a small voice. “This girl happens to feel the same way about the guy. So she’s flattered.”
I lifted her dress over her head, knocking more flour to the tiles of my bathroom floor. She was wearing a matching pair of low waisted black panties and a simple bra. I had them off her in moments, then stripped out of my own clothes.
I picked her up and carried her into the shower, swinging the glass door shut behind us.
“You keep picking me up. You realize I can walk, right?”
“I just like having my hands on you.”
“Acceptable excuse,” she said, letting me kiss her as the water pattered against her hair and ran down her body.
I grabbed a bar of soap and lathered up my hands, then slid them down from Nola’s neck to her shoulders. Then I circled her breasts with the soap, noting how her nipples were already hardened to points for me.
“I’m going to have the cleanest boobs of my life after this,” Nola said.
I grinned, realizing I possibly spent a little more time than necessary at her chest with the soap. Her body was small, soft, and deliciously slick as I soaped every last inch of her. I was already clenching my teeth from the effort of holding myself back enough to finish the job. She was so goddamn perfect, and I knew I’d nearly lost her.
I grabbed the face soap and when I was turned, I felt her small hands on my cock. I jumped a little in surprise, then looked to see her wiggling her eyebrows. “I’m not the only one who needed cleaning, am I?”
I didn’t argue with her as she closed her eyes and let me carefully soap the oil and flour off her face and pumped her hands on my cock, soaping it thoroughly. She then proceeded to give me an even more thorough soap job than I’d given her, all while her eyes were still clamped shut from the facial soap and her mouth was curved up in amusement.
There was a muffled knock at my bedroom door. Ben.
“Why is the shower going?” Ben asked through the door. “Are you napping?”
“It helps us sleep!” I shouted.
“Why do you sound so far away?”
“Acoustics!”
“What’s acu sticks?”
“Are you bleeding or hurt?” I asked.
“No, why?”
“Keep cleaning. We’ll be out when we’re done.”
We both waited perfectly still while Nola’s soapy hands were on my ass.
“Think we’re safe?” she asked.
I spun her around, then urged her down with my palm on her upper back. She planted her hands on the raised ledge in the corner of the shower as the water washed the soap from her in glorious, shimmering rivulets of water. I took a moment to enjoy their path across her curves and between her legs.
Then I gripped my cock and guided it to the tight warmth of her entrance.
I’d slept with Nola before, but those times had felt different. They felt like scooping a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth directly from the carton in the light of the fridge at midnight. They felt like little time bombs I was planting beneath the foundations of my life and Ben’s. But this…
I watched my length sink into her and admired the way her waist narrowed to provide the perfect grip for my hands as I pulled her into me. I watched the water splash across her back and run down our bodies. And when she turned her face to look back at me with her lower lip pinned between her teeth, I waited for that same feeling of impending regret to come.
But it didn’t.
All I felt was rightness. Ever since I got Ally pregnant all those years ago, it had felt like my life was a crusade to make things right for Ben. All the money and the success in my career hadn’t felt like it made a dent in that regard. Nothing I’d tried had.
Now I saw what I’d been missing.
Ben needed his dad to be whole. He needed a father who was happy. A father who was able to love.
What we’d both needed was Nola.44Epilogue - NolaTwo weeks laterJack, Ben, Griff, and I were all living out of a tiny motel room for the time being. Jack had offered several times to put us up in a nicer place, but I’d already paid for the motel through the month, and there was something nostalgic about all of us living in the cramped little space. It reminded me of family vacations with my parents when I was a kid, of eating breakfast on a bed that was probably far dirtier than anyone wanted to really know, and the moldy smell of possibility that greeted me every morning.
I don’t think either me or Jack really knew what it would mean to fight for our relationship. All I knew was that I would’ve sacrificed my growing love for trying to run my own restaurant, but he hadn’t made me.
