But one day Mom caught me off guard when she said, “He sounds like the kind of man who would go out and play catch with his sons and teach them how to hit a ball for Little League. Or the kind of man who would be willing to sit in a tiny chair while he had a tea party with his little girl.” She paused, lost in her own thoughts for a moment before adding, “I can imagine him coming home from work, dropping his car keys on the kitchen counter, then coming up behind his wife and giving her a hug while she’s making dinner.”
I’m not going to lie, I was floored by her comment, how specific it was, and it made my eyes water when I realized what she was talking about. Josh and Keegan signed themselves up for Little League when they were nine and eleven. Mom talked about how excited they were when she found a couple of baseball gloves at a garage sale. She even found one for Dad too, but he refused to play catch with them saying he didn’t have time. Even back then he was spending too much time at the casino. And it wasn’t like Dad didn’t know anything about baseball. He used to brag aboutbeing a star player on his high school team. I think that’s why Josh and Keegan wanted to play in the first place. But Dad didn’t want to have anything to do with them. I was also keenly aware of the tea set with the little table and chairs Mom found at a thrift store. I loved that set and would have tea parties with my raggedy old dolls, but there was this one time when I asked Dad to join me. I didn’t think Mom even knew about that, but apparently, she did. When I asked, instead of politely turning me down, Dad barked, “Clean your damn room, it’s a fucking mess!” I think I must have been about six or eight, I can’t remember, but I do remember how it felt. He really hurt my little feelings.
This man is nothing like Dad. The more I’ve learned about him, the more convinced I am that Riggs Dwyer would make a great dad and a kind, caring husband who takes care of his family. And looking back, I love how Mom saw that too.
I wonder if he’s right. Has she been up there, happy, looking down on me and Riggs when we were sitting here while he made everything better? Is she smiling, full of joy that I have this man in my life? I know Mom and nothing would have made her happier than to see me with a guy like this. I also know he was right about her. She was suffering. Every day was a struggle, and I knew the toll the pain was taking on her. And now it’s finally over. Thanks to Riggs, I can see that as well.
Still, the pain in my chest could make me burst into tears at the drop of a pin. I’m glad she’s not suffering, but the selfish part of me would have kept her here. Maybe. I’m not sure what I would havedone had I been given a choice. What would she have wanted? She was a strong woman who always put her own suffering aside to care for me and my well-being. But she was exhausted. It was unbelievably hard for her, yet she was so happy when I went to the ski lodge and now I can totally see why. If I were the one with cancer, nothing would have brought me more joy than seeing my daughter happy. I’m so grateful that Riggs opened my eyes to that.
I think Mom loved the whole idea of me and Riggs, but there was something I never told her about him. As much as I’ve come to realize what an amazing man he is, there’s always been one obvious problem. Forget his potential to be a great dad and wonderful husband, he can’t even be a boyfriend if he’s never around.
That’s why every part of my brain is telling me his tongue in my mouth is a bad idea. Unfortunately, my ovaries don’t care, and in this case, those bitches win! I’ll just have to figure it out later.
He answers my kiss by leaning forward, the weight of his body gently pushing me to my back. There’s hunger on his lips as he pulls me against him with a strength that borders on terrifying. He could break me if he tried, but there’s a rough, aggressive gentleness to it that makes me want more, so much more.
I do something I’ve been dying to do for a long, long time—I push my hand into the opening at the top of his shirt and feel his rock-hard chest. He flexes and I feel the lines, the tightness of his skin, the tiny ripples of muscle between his pecs, and I can’t help it—I let out a soft moan. My body aches for him.
With a whoosh, he throwshimself back to a sitting position while lifting me onto his lap. The rush of being handled so easily is exhilarating and so is his size growing between my legs.
I’m on fire as I grab the bottom of his shirt and start pulling, but he’s too big, too massive. Seeing my frustration, he looks me in the eye with a tantalizing grin, then reaches down to cup my hands and slowly helps me pull the shirt over his head.
Suddenly he freezes in place, shirt off like a Greek statue worthy of worship, but there’s a scowl on his face I don’t understand. I brushed my teeth and put on deodorant. “What’s wrong?”
He hesitates, running his fingers through his thick tousled hair. “I don’t have a condom.”
Thank God. For a minute there I thought I might have a bad smell. I think I would have died of embarrassment. “I’ve been tested. Rhonda made me after a bad breakup just to make sure the guy didn’t give me anything. I haven’t been with anyone since.”
He lets out a sigh of relief. “Ash and I are tested often, more than I like, actually. It’s something big advertisers require to make sure there’s no risk of bad press on the horizon. At least that’s what Elsie tells us. You never know with her. Either way, I’m clean and I haven’t been with anyone either.”
I lean back for a better view. His flawless, tanned skin stretched tight over his hard body sends a wave of heat between my legs. “Good, that’s settled then.” I lean forward letting my fingers start at his shoulders and trace the lines of his muscles. Then my palms run down his chest and over his ripped abs all the way down until I reach his belt. My heartthunders at the thought of undoing it. But before I can, my shirt comes flying over my head. It happens so fast I almost laugh. Almost, but laughing is the last thing on my mind as his giant hands cup my bra. His mouth presses to my neck. Who knew a guy this big could give gentle little kisses, so soft and sensual? I toss my head back as his lips travel down, down to my cleavage and I can feel him growing even harder beneath me.
More kisses at my breasts send waves of pleasure through me. Then the clasp of my bra comes undone. Smooth. I didn’t even feel his fingers. The front drops down, exposing my hard nipples. He pulls the bra off and tosses it on the floor next to my shirt. With a hand on one breast, he makes hungry circles around my other nipple with his tongue. Lost in the heat of it, I run my hands through his thick, wavy hair as he takes my whole breast into his mouth with a deep growl.
I want his pants off. I need to feel him against me. I’m reaching for his belt when suddenly he lifts me up, and in what feels like a single motion, I find myself landing with my back against the sofa and him on the floor kneeling between my legs. It happens so fast it takes my breath away but in the most exhilarating way.
Now he’s kissing my stomach as he pulls my jeans halfway down my ass. His lips follow and he blows a warm breath through the front of my panties. The sensation of it sends sparks down my spine and I arch my back, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. Suddenly my pants fly off, and a moment later, his nose is making gentle circular motions in random patterns over the cotton that covers my clit. God, that feels good and I let out a loud moan.
I lean my head back and close my eyes as he rubs his thumb over my panties, up and down my slit. It’s torture—rendering me capable of only one thought. I. Want. More!
As if he can read my mind, slowly, my panties come down. Again, his lips follow. His tongue is wet and warm as he runs the tip up my slit. My hips gyrate involuntarily as I moan louder and pull his hair harder. He’s just getting started, and I don’t know how much more I can take. I might climax right now, but I fight to hold it in. His tongue goes flat as he licks up and down, up and down, pressing deep into my folds with a slow, steady rhythm.
I spread my legs wider. “Don’t stop.”
How is he doing everything I want, exactly how I want it? It’s like we’re connected, like he’s in my head, reading my mind. It feels so fucking good!
“Baby,” he groans, “do not come until I tell you to. Do you understand?”
It’s primal, demanding, nothing like anything I’ve ever experienced before and all I can do is grind my pussy against his tongue in a way I didn’t know I was capable of. How is he doing this to me?
“Say it,” he growls. “Tell me you understand.”
I could come right now, but I feel an overwhelming need to obey. “Yes,” I pant, “I won’t come until you tell me to.”
“Good girl.”
He sucks down on my clit pulling it into his mouth as his hands come up and pinch my nipples to the edge of pleasure bordering on pain and it’s such a turn-on. Then I feel something unfamiliar and it nearly sends me over the edge. In a way I don’t quite understand, itfeels like the smooth surface of his teeth are running back and forth over my clit and I want to scream. Who knew something so unusual could be so amazing?
After a moment, he’s back to licking my slit with that mind-blowing off-the-charts skill. I can’t help it, my legs tense and I lift them over his broad shoulders.
