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As he slid inside of me, inch by glorious inch, I gasped, “No, thanks,” then all chatter stopped.
I wrapped my legs around him, the T-shirt of his I was wearing going up around my waist, and tilted my hips as far as I could, as he drove inside, his pelvis hitting my clit perfectly as I squeezed his tight ass.
“Yes,” I moaned. “Right there.”
“Jesus, fuck,” Dillon managed as his pace quickened. “You feel so fucking good.”
“Harder,” I urged. So very close.
He complied, moving faster, deeper, harder, until we were both coming, my orgasm ripping through me, causing me to cry out.
“Oh my God,” I moaned, my body pulsing around him, my blood humming in my veins.
I could get used to waking up to this every day.
33
Dillon
“Where is she?” I asked as I walked into Gabe and Zoey’s living room.
Gabe chuckled and handed me Evie, who I cradled to my chest.
“How’s my favorite girl?” I asked as I stared down at her precious little face.
Did men get baby fever? ‘Cause every time I saw Evie, I wanted to be a dad so bad. I could picture it, holding a baby of my own, teaching him, or her, to walk. To ride a bike. To play ball.
Family movie nights, pancake breakfasts, days on the lake … I wanted it all.
“Hey Dillon,” Zoey said in greeting as she came in from the kitchen. “I didn’t realize you were here already. I just put on water for tea and put cookies in the oven, but I can get you a coffee, or beer, if you’d rather.”
“Thanks, Zo, I’ll wait for Laurel to get here. I came a little early to get in some Evie time before her nap.”
“How was Chicago?” Gabe asked as he sat in his recliner.
We hadn’t seen each other since before I left, but from the look on his face, I could tell he’d talked to Reardon.
“It was great,” I said, ignoring his eyebrow waggle. “The convention was good, I made a lot of contacts.”
“Mmmhmm,” Gabe replied, fighting back a laugh. “And would you say the convention was the highlight of the trip? ‘Cause, what I heard…”
“Okay, that’s enough.”
Zoey looked from Gabe to me, then back again, and asked, “Am I missing something?”
Gabe grinned at his wife and said, “Yeah, Dillon has a lover.”
“A lover?” I scoffed. “Who the hell says lover?”
“She does,” he replied, pointing his thumb at his wife. And, yeah, I could totally see Zoey saying that.
“Oh,” Zoey said excitedly, sitting forward on the couch, her eyes wide. “Who is it, is it Laurel? Tell me it’s Laurel.”
“What the…” I began, shocked. “How does everyone keep guessing this?”
“Yay!” she cried. “I knew you two would realize you’re meant to be.”
“Meant to be?” I asked, feeling suddenly panicked.
