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This is real life, and in real life, there’s no happy ending for people who just met. That’s not how storytelling works. It simply can’t happen that way.
“I want you, too,” I tell him. He hisses, grabbing my ass, and he pulls me closer to him. I writhe against him, moaning and breathing heavily. If I keep rubbing against him, I’m definitely going to end up making myself come. There’s just no way it won’t happen.
I’m close: so close. I’m literally teetering on the edge of pleasure when suddenly, he pulls away and looks at me strangely.
“What?” I whisper.
“They’re awake.”
“What?”
“The kids.” He laughs lightly, looking at me. “You don’t hear them?”
I shake my head.
“Huh,” he shrugs. “Must be a shifter thing. “Come on, then.”
He takes my hand, and almost as though we weren’t just making out and on the verge of actually having sex with one another, he leads me to the bedroom. Heat pushes the door open, and sure enough, my kids are in there.
To my surprise, though, they aren’t jumping on the bed or running around the room looking for toys. They’re just...hanging out.
“Hey boys,” Heath says, leaning against the door. “Who wants breakfast?”
And that’s when all hell breaks loose.
“I do!”
“Me, me, me!”
“ME!”
“No, I want it!”
The kids start yelling. Over and over, they begin jumping up and down, and oh, they’re hollering.
I hold my hand up.
“Stop,” I say.
They don’t stop.
“Hey,” I raise my voice a little, and they look at me. Then I raise my hand again in a “stop” motion. “It’s time to calm down.”
“But, mom,” Silas whines.
“But, mom,” Sebastian echoes.
“No buts,” I say, and they both start laughing.
Great. Now I’ve done it. I’ve somehow managed to not only not stop my kids from being hyped up and wild, but I’ve given them a fit of giggles.
Even Heath cracks a smile.
“All right, boys,” he grins. “Who wants to help me make pancakes?”
“I do!”
“Me, me, me!”
