He was perfect when he was horny and needy. He got clingy and sent dirty texts. His filters were down. That was how Nate and I wanted him.
After a moment, I pulled out and smeared traces of my come across his ass.
“Clean me up,” I said, slumping down in my desk chair. “We gotta be outta here in five.”
“Yessir.” He cleared his throat and pulled up his jeans. “May I use my mouth?”
I grinned lazily. “You dirty fuck. Sure, but you kiss me first.”
He grinned back and planted his hands on the armrests. “I love kissin’ you.”
Well, hey. That was some nice honesty.
I pulled him down and kissed him deeply.
I couldn’t wait to get this place on the market.
Once I’d locked the door, I brought out my phone and checked the to-do list.
Pack up the truck with the next load of moving boxes, check. We’d picked up the Carters’ wedding gift on the way over to the old house, so check on that one too. We’d bought the material to reline the pool. I’d emailed the Realtor, check.
Okay, off to buy a new basketball hoop. Now that Dylan was going all in on his golf dream, that activity would no longer be optimal to get him to open up and chat with his old man. Instead, I was returning to one of the first sports we’d played together. Basketball. We had a great driveway for it too, not to mention plenty of space above the garage door.
Returning to the truck, I noticed James was on the phone.
I got behind the wheel.
“I promise he’s not cranky anymore,” he chuckled. “Yes, Sir.”
“Is that Nate?” I asked. “You tell him I did all the work. You just dropped your pants and bent over.”
Because let’s not get shit twisted here.
I heard Nathan laughing in the background, so he must’ve heard me.
Good.
James could sit there and blush.
Wednesdays were bullshit.
No, really. They were worse than Mondays. Wednesdays brought a false sense of “the weekend is just around the corner,”but it fucking wasn’t. Actually, since I loved my job, Mondays weren’t bad at all. But I was still getting closer to fifty every damn day, so by Wednesday, I was feeling the weekday fatigue and needed my weekend to start.
I yawned and waited for Hallie to get out of school.
It seemed Mikey was having a shit Wednesday too. He was asleep in the back seat.
“Daddy?” Lily wasn’t asleep. She’d been asking questions nonstop since I’d picked her up. Mostly about beads, colors, glitter glues, and how magnets worked.
“Yeah, princess.”
“What’s a poem?”
I scratched my forehead and drummed my fingers along the wheel. “Uh. It’s when you talk in rhymes. Like…roses are red, go to bed.”
“Huh.”
I eyed her in the rearview. “Why? Are they teaching you poetry in kindergarten? If that’s the case, you might wanna ask Daddy too. His answers tend to be…” Correct? “A bit different.”
