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“Okay, sweetie.” I push myself up from the floor and take Noah’s hand in mine, helping him to his feet. “Let’s go see your mommy.”
Tyler is busy giving Blake a quick lecture about how to play well with other kids. He would’ve made such a good father.
By the time we reach the stairs, Carl stops us and drops down to Noah’s height. “How are you feeling, little man?”
“I want to see my mommy.” Noah sniffs with an adorable but sad look on his face.
Carl glances up at me. “I can take him upstairs to sit with Payton. You should hang out with Tyler and Blake.”
I nod, relieved that I don’t have to explain to Payton what had transpired between the boys. Most mothers would get upset about their children roughing with other kids, and I would rather not be in the middle of this situation.
Taking a seat on the carpet next to Tyler and Blake, I let out a quiet sigh. This day has been taxing on all of us. I don’t know how Tyler repeats this every month without having a nervous breakdown. Seeing him with his son almost brings tears to my eyes. I hold them back, all too aware of how emotional I have become since I first walked into the house.
After seeing Tyler and Blake in action, the two of them now playing a portable air hockey game on the floor, my heart fills with so much sadness. Tyler blocks the puck as Blake hits it hard with his paddle, causing Blake to scream out in irritation.
This kid is so damn cute with the little dimple in his cheek and those big blue eyes. He’s so happy and full of life. It makes sense to me why Tyler continues to repeat this monthly practice. I would not want to miss out on Blake’s life once I had gotten to know him either.
“Beat it, kid.” Tyler crashes paddle into the puck with an evil laugh. “You’re on my turf now.”
“When I grow up, I want to be a famous hockey player like you,” Blake announces, stopping the puck in front of his goal.
The proud grin on Tyler’s handsome face makes my insides turn to mush. “Don’t worry, buddy, I will help you get there.”
Blake peeps up from the game at me, and then his focus shifts to Tyler. “Is she your girlfriend, Uncle Tyler?”
“Yes.” Tyler reaches out to squeeze my hand. “Kennedy is my girlfriend.”
“Are you going to get married?”
Why do kids always have to ask such intrusive questions? I wait with nervous anticipation as Tyler responds.
He locks onto me, his eyes and the tone of his voice both serious. “Yes, I’d like to get married some day.”
“To Kennedy?” Blake squeaks when he says my name.
Tyler hasn’t broken our staring contest. My stomach twists like a pretzel as he speaks the three words I was hoping to hear. “I hope so.”
“Are you going to have babies?” Why does this kid keeping grilling Tyler?
Our relationship is so new that this is not the type of conversation either of us were prepared to have, but Tyler doesn’t seem to mind as Blake fires off one question after another.
“I hope so,” Tyler says, his voice low and soft.
I could melt into a puddle on the floor. How did things progress so fast between Tyler and me?
I still have not figured out how our sexual tension turned into something neither of us least expected. Sometimes life comes at you like a puck invading your zone off a rush, but it’s how you adapt to the situation that makes the difference between scoring a goal or coming up short. And with Tyler, I have scored big time.
Chapter Sixteen
KENNEDY
On our way home from an another fantastic dinner, I lean across the shifter with my hand wrapped around Tyler’s massive cock, my knees digging into the leather seat and my elbow propped up on the center console. He’s so hard and long, and as I position him in front of my mouth, I grab hold of his shaft with my other hand, teasing him as I lick the tip.
The sexy sound he makes sends a tremor through my body and straight to my core, my legs trembling with need and my panties soaked in anticipation. I wish he’d pull the car over and fuck me on the hood, but he’s driving so damn fast, weaving in and out of lanes as we zip down the highway. His car is crazy fast, but there’s no need to pretend like we’re in a rush.
Apart form his friends coming over to watch the NHL Stanley Cup Finals, we have nowhere else to be and plenty of time to get there. Matching the speed of his driving, I stroke his length, my hands and mouth in sync with one another as I suck his cock, taking most of it in my mouth.
“Oh my God, baby,” he grunts.
