“Jesus, Raffi. You’re making a mess with all your slurping. We’re going to have to burn these sheets and start over.”
“Victoria?” Jerking my head up from her crotch makes her whimper.
“Yeah?”
“Shut up, lie back, and give me all your juices, bitch.”
Her howl of laughter is worth risking my life for. When she grips the front of my hair, I know she’s paying attention. Her clit is swollen and super sensitive. Even the slightest graze of my teeth makes her wiggle and shriek. She responds to everyflick of my tongue with a hip roll and her fingers tightening in my hair.
My girl loves oral. Which works for me because I love going down on her. And there’s no pussy I’d rather eat.
“Mom, this is Raffi Shaw. Wyatt’s father.”
Standing in Victoria’s kitchen, my hand remains outstretched for a long moment before the penny drops. I don’t know this woman’s name. First. Or last. I don’t know Victoria’s surname. Fuck.
“Hi, Mrs…uh…” Panic-stricken, I look to Victoria for help but she’s doubled over laughing.
“Barnett, Raffi. Our last name is Barnett.” Firecracker’s mom steps toward me to accept my hand. “I’ll try not to be too offended you didn’t know my daughter’s full name before you kept her out all night.” She winks at me, but my heart’s beating at three hundred beats per minute.
I hope she doesn’t think this is some seedy hookup. I need her to know I’m falling for her daughter, and if I kept my memories from the first time, I’d be all-the-way in love with her already.
“Please, sit.” Mrs. Barnett gestures to the table where there is a towering stack of pancakes, a plate of at least two packs of bacon, and all the possible accessories for the pancake stack that dreams are made of.
Brunch with my future mother in law wasn’t in my plans for this morning, but I have time before class, and there’s no way I’m leaving this mouthwatering feast.
“Hiiiii!” My little buddy comes running at me, fist extended for optimal fist bumpage.
“Hey, lil man.” Our fists collide and I make my handexplode like a firework. He laughs at my sound effects. “You ready for some pancakes?”
He nods up at me, his hair sticking out in just about every direction from what appears to be a very restful sleep. He drops his stuffed animal and holds both hands out to me to be picked up.
Fuck.
Uh. We didn’t talk about this. Can I touch him? Is picking him up on the approved list of things I can do in front of Victoria’s mom without losing a ball?
Glancing at Victoria, I hesitate. My stomach’s going to turn to liquid and leave my body. But she’s nodding at me eagerly, her eyes filled with hope. This moment is going to be etched in my soul for the rest of my life.
Scooping him up, I carefully plant him onto his booster seat. “Allergies?” I wouldn’t usually think to ask about someone else’s allergies, but this isn’t just someone else, is it? It’s my son. And I never want to do anything that might hurt him, even inadvertently. Plus, Mayrik reminded me to get the low down on all of her grandson’s needs.
Victoria shakes her head. One of the guys on our team is allergic to mustard. Weird one, right? But I’ve been bowled over by how many things the stupid ingredient is in. And it’s not clearly marked on labels.
“Alright, bud. What’s it gonna be?”
My lil man throws his hands over his head like he’s on a freakin’ roller coaster. “Pancaaaaaaaakes!”
“Hell yeah!” I fist pump into the air.
“Hell yeah!” He parrots back to me.
Fuck. My bad.
Ignoring the searing looks ofbothBarnett women, I gulp. Note to self, don’t cuss in front of the tiny human.
“One or two?”
The kid yells two, and both Victoria and her mom answer “One” at the same time.
One it is. I’m not pissing off these women.
