Page 105 of Already Callin’ You Mine

“What—”

Presley whips around, pressing a finger to her lips, silently shushing me. I do as I’m told, squeezing her hand and letting her lead me into her closet. Yes, into her closet.

Teenage Jace wants to make a comment about playing seven minutes in heaven, but I stop myself. I also stop my adult self from commenting that it would be way more than seven minutes.

Presley stops just shy of the door with the large, wide mirror on it, turning to face a built-in bookshelf. Oh, maybe we aren’t headed to the closet. My mistake.

Scanning the shelves, she quickly finds what she’s looking for, pulling a book out from the neatly lined row. She hands it to me, and I take a second to examine it.

My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She’s Sorry

The spine is cracked in multiple places, the edges worn from use, a couple of the pages permanently dog-eared. It’s clear this book is well-loved.

“I don’t have any special, personalized annotations in it for you, but there are a couple of things underlined,” Presley says. “Parts that I really love or found cute and funny.”

“Thank you. But why…”

“You gave me one of your favorites, so I’m giving you mine. It’s been years since I got to read it. Being a single mom doesn’t lend itself to having a lot of downtime, as you’ve witnessed, but I’ve probably read it half a dozen times. It never fails to make me happy.”

Holy shit…

I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do. I feel like Presley just handed me her entire heart on a platter. If I was worried before that my grand gesture might not have landed, I shouldn’t be now.

“So you like Glenna and Cash?” I ask, dying to know what she thought.

“I did. They were fun. And you’re right, he can be a bit of an idiot.”

“I like to think I’m a little better than that.”

“You are. A lot. Forget Super STAR student—if they gave out awards for STAR boyfriend, you would win hands down.”

I throw my head back in a loud guffaw, unable to hold it in. What a perfect line.

“Sorry, that was cheesy.”

“No, Mama, it was perfect.” I step into her, placing the book back on a shelf, so I can haul her into me. My cock thickens with the desire to hold her, play with her, kiss her. Fuck her.

I tighten my hold, making sure she’s pressed against me and can feel my hard-on, weaving my fingers into her hair and kissing her. Hard. Like I need to kiss her in order to survive. Which is exactly how I’m feeling.

Presley whimpers, wrapping her fingers in my shirt and tugging me impossibly closer, kissing me back with everything she has. A move that only makes me want her more. And makes my dick ache with need.

“You have no idea how bad I want you, Mama,” I whisper, kissing along her jaw toward her ear. I nip at the lobe, earning a moan. One that I feel down in my soul. I want her to do it again, and again. I want to make her scream and writhe. I want her to see stars.

“Then have me…”

I stop, rocking back just enough to look at her. “Can we do that? With Little Man in the house?”

Presley bites down on her bottom lip, nodding. “Parents do it all the time. I mean, not me, clearly, but other parents. If they didn’t, there’d be a whole lot of only children in the world.”

She makes a point. As someone who is number five of seven, I should know this. Then again, no one wants to think about their parents that way. Auggie and Miss Belle have never shied from PDA or letting it be known that even after forty-plus years of marriage and seven kids, they are still very much in love. There are even plenty of jokes in the family about “adult naps.” Yet somehow I’ve never let my brain really go there.

“We just have to be quiet about it,” Presley adds.

“Challenge accepted.” I slide my hands down her body, grabbing ahold of her ass and lifting her up. A giggle explodes from her chest, her legs wrapping around my waist. “Although we’ll see just how quiet you can be while my tongue is buried deep in your pussy.”

“Jace…” she moans, grinding against me.

That’s my cue.