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I chuckle, drop onto the mattress beside her, and pull her back against my chest. “I’m your kinky motherfucker now. Learn to live with it.”
She doesn’t answer right away. She just presses back into me, still flushed and warm, her ass nestling against my hips. I feel her heartbeat racing through her back. “I think I can live with it. Even if your tastes are… interesting.”
I laugh against her neck, my hand sliding over her hip, tracing slow circles just above the bone. “You liked it. Don’t lie.”
“The part with the toy, yes.” She chuckles before adding, “The licking-it-after part? Still processing.”
I lean down over her and nuzzle into her throat, lips brushing the damp hollow where her pulse still ticks fast.
“Get some sleep,” I murmur through a yawn, my voice already rough with it. I kiss the top of her head once more. “Busy day tomorrow.”
She rolls over to face me and presses closer, one leg hooking over mine. I stay awake a little longer anyway, just to feel her fall asleep first—breath evening out, the smallest smile still on her mouth, the weight of her going heavy and trusting against me.
Tomorrow we start the rest of our lives together. The last thing that follows me down into sleep is the ring I’ve kept hidden in my office since before Theo was even conceived.
Chapter twenty-four
Blaire
For one stupid, sleep-drunk second I don’t know where I am. Packed boxes. Bare walls. Simon’s shirt swallowed around me and nothing underneath it. His arm still heavy across my waist like he never moved all night.
Then Chance’s muffled voice carries into my room. “Blaire Thomas if you’re not opening this door in the next 30 seconds I’m leaving!”
“Shit.” I’m already scrambling. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Simon makes a wrecked, half-asleep sound and sits up, dog tags tangled backwards, hair a mess, nothing on but boxers. He looks unfairly good for having just woken up.
“What time is it?” His voice is thick with sleep.
“Late.” I snatch my phone. 7:32. Theo actually slept in. Of course he did. The one morning we needed him to be a human alarm clock. “Chance is here. Get dressed. Please get dressed.”
Another bang. “Blaire!”
I dive for yesterday’s shorts, hop into them on one foot, and nearly eat carpet. The pink dildo is still on the nightstand like a crime scene exhibit and I definitely don’t need my brothers seeing that. I grab it and stuff it deep into a box with the rest of them.
Simon is watching me with that slow, wrecked almost-smile, tugging sweatpants up over his boxers.
“Not a word,” I hiss.
“Didn’t say anything.”
“You’re thinking it.”
“I’m thinking a lot of things.” He kisses the side of my head, voice still rough. “Breathe. I’ll get the door.”
“Shirt,” I croak, because my brothers can definitely not see the nail marks on Simon’s shoulders.
He hums, turning me to face him. His hands settle on my hips as he leans down and kisses me.
For one second I give in. I melt into it. His mouth is warm and unhurried, and when he nips my bottom lip I make a sound I shouldn’t be making with my brother still waiting at my front door.
Simon pulls back just enough that I can still feel him smiling against my mouth. Then his hands fist in the hem of my—his—shirt and tug it up off my body in one smooth pull.
Air hits my skin. I cross my arms over my chest on instinct, heat flooding my face, but he’s already turning the shirt right side out and dragging it on over his own head before tossing me my own.
Theo chooses that moment to finally come knocking at my door. “Mama? Someone’s breaking into the house.”
“Nobody’s breaking into the house, baby. Uncle Chance is just being loud.” I say, pulling on my shirt and trying to finger comb my hair into less of a mess.
