I expect the toilet flush to wake her up, but when I reappear from washing my hands, Victoria’s still out cold. Strands of her beautiful curly hair are splayed across the pillow and over her face. How she can sleep like that is anyone’s guess.
She’s as naked as the day she was born, leg bent at an angle and creamy skin on display.
“I feel you staring at me.” She drapes an arm over her eyes. “Why are you all the way over there?” She toes at the foot of the bed, but considering the quilt and blankets are a tangled mess on the floor, she comes up short. “It’s cold.”
Even if she hadn’t announced that, her perfectly blush-colored nipples are standing at attention. My dick’s operating independently from the rest of my body and thinks it’s go-time all over again. But if she’s in any way as tender and achy as I am, it’s a bad, bad, bad idea.
“Everything hurts.” She flaps her hand at me. “Put that thing away—he’s done for the day.” She peeks out from behind her hair. “He did very well last night, but my vagina is achy, and you broke my clit.” She points to her crotch. “Just imagine there’s a no entry sign down there. Or caution tape.”
As she talks, I kneel on the bed and spread her legs wide. “Want me to kiss you better?”
She props herself up on her elbows, one eyebrow curving as she gives me what has to be the best eye roll to date. “Do you always ask stupid questions?”
Before she can give me a second eye roll, I’ve pulled her body to me and settled between her thighs to feast on her.
“You’re going to have to work for it, you know,” she warns.
I grin against her pussy. “I’m good with that.”
“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.
