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I grab my phone out of my pocket, firing off a text to warn Tyra in case she’s not into a pool evening after working all day.
Me: Hey, siren, we have a little boy scheming his way into a pizza and pool night. He’d like for you to join us. Feel up to it?
Not expecting her to answer right away seeing as how she’s still at work, I don’t think anything of it for Tyra not to respond right away. Moseying it the fridge to make sure I don’t need to order groceries in the way of ice cream as well as pizza, I place my phone on the counter. If I’m going to place an order, I may want to do it all in one fell swoop instead of paying the delivery fee just for tonight’s ice cream, and seeing as how Von will be home all weekend, food is very much on the agenda.
“Dad, I need help!” Von’s voice echoes through the mostly empty apartment. Furniture and shit like that still aren’t on the top of my list, priority wise. There are more important things in life, my son and his mother for one, and then work. Material shit is just that—material. It doesn’t matter how much is in your bank account. What matters is the people you surround yourself with.
“What could you possibly need help with?” I walk into the bedroom we share and hold my stomach as I laugh. There, in the middle of the room, is Von, shorts lower than the boxer briefs he prefers to wear, not that I blame him. No man wants his junk flopping around or so tight it cuts off circulation. That’s not what has me busting a gut laughing. His shirt is stuck over his head, the navy-blue polo shirt he has to wear along with his khakis for the private school he’s in is stuck.
“Bud, I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to unbutton your shirt before taking it off.” He looks like Beavis and Butthead. Only Von isn’t snorting and making the obnoxious joke, like the adult cartoon characters do.
“Dad, help me. It’s cutting off my oxygen.” Drama. This boy is full of drama tonight.
“You’re talking, which means you can breathe.” I drop to my haunches, fingers going to the buttons to help him out.
“It didn’t feel that way,” he huffs, out a breath.
“Are you going to be okay to get undressed and put your bathing suit on without losing your breath?” I joke with him, trying to calm the attitude that I know is brewing. He’s been in limbo for the better part of a year, only finally getting the consistency of me that he deserves.
“Yes, nothing else is going over my head, so my breathing should be fine.” I laugh and then go after his soft little boy’s pudgy belly to get him to do the same thing, avoiding the meltdown that was potentially on the horizon.
“Mercy, mercy!” Von gives in.
“Okay, alright,” I respond, needing to get back to the kitchen to what I was doing in the first place. He runs into the closet, giving me the time to get the ice cream and pizza situation under control. I tap my phone on the counter, checking if there’s a call or text that needs to be answered. Old habits die hard when it comes to working eighty hours a fucking week. It’s not a work-related text that has me smiling, though. Nope, that’d be the message I get from Tyra.
Siren: I’m down. If you take care of the pizza, I’ll provide dessert.
Me: And what dessert would that be? Your legs spread open, knees on my shoulders, my mouth on your cunt as you moan my name?
It’s been a long-as-fuck week without having Tyra when there isn’t a certain little someone around, which isn’t easy.
Siren: I like your version of dessert better, any hour, any day.
Me: Soon. Be ready, siren, because I’m going to make you scream my name. We’ll be at your apartment in ten minutes. It’s going to be hard to keep my hands off you.
I put my phone down, the pitter-patter of noisy feet giving me a clue that Von is approaching. There’s a reason I’ve now got a new code on my phone. All he’d need to do is hit the code; it’d give him a bird’s eye view of the texts Tyra and I share.
“Your turn, Dad,” he states.
“Alright, give me two minutes, and we’ll be on our way.” I’m not worrying about groceries since Tyra’s got dessert covered, and I’ll order the pizza once we’re down at the pool. The only problem with this hare-brained idea is keeping my cock under control.
TWENTY-TWO
Tyra
“This is harderthan I thought it would be,” I admit to Mace. The two of us have eaten our pizza. Von was too busy playing with another little boy to be bothered with the thought of food even though we offered to feed him as well. I’m currently sitting on the ledge of the pool, feet dangling in the water, in a bikini. The white top has underwire, not tying around my neck like most do. God, those are absolute torture come the end of the day. This one crosses and then ties at the bottom of the bathing suit, giving me some much-needed relief. The bottoms are the same color, with a higher waist to cover my C-section scar while giving me the illusion of making my ass appear fuller than it actually is.
“It is. My hands are itching to hold you, touch you. I need to kiss you, and it’s eating me up inside that I can’t, not yet at least.” Mace is in a pair of swim shorts riding low on his hips. They aren’t long either, ending a few inches above his knees, his muscular quads on full display. I want my hands on them, squeezing them as my mouth is wrapped around his thick, long cock.
“And that’s what’s making me worried even more. I spoke to Celeste today.” I need to tell him this, to get it off my chest, feeling like a needy little girl who wants reassurance.
“Is everything alright? Are you having second thoughts?” My head whips from where it was watching Von to Mace’s, dropping the shield that I knew he could see was in my eyes as well as surrounding my heart.
“No, not at all. Am I worried that you’ll eventually slip back into the all-work, no-play Mace? Yes, one hundred percent.” I know those words are hard for him to hear, but I need to get them out just the same. “I’m also praying like hell that we get back to us, that Von and I get to have the Mace I’ve always known and loved since you swept me off my feet.” I remember the night we first met. I was celebrating a friend’s birthday at the club with a bunch of friends, when he stepped up to the table next to me, alerting me to the fact that the drink my friend just received from a random guy was laced. He whispered it in my ear, and my hand automatically went out to the drink that was about to meet my friend’s lips. I slapped it out of her hand. The rest, as they say, is history. He whisked me to the dance floor after alerting security, and we hit it off, becoming inseparable. Now I’m thirty-two to his thirty-six. We practically grew up together as well as grew a part. This whole situation fucking sucks. “What Celeste told me is that we need time together, and it might be hard because you’re rebuilding your relationship with Von, but when it comes down to the two of us, we also need time without him. And I feel selfish for even voicing that, but Celeste is right, too.”
“Fuck, we’ll work our way around this. I promise you I’ll do whatever it takes to keep that doubt out of your head. Are you working Sunday?” Mace asks, his hand sliding around my shoulders pulling me closer to hug me. Neither of us cares if Von sees us like this right now. The spa has shift rotations. Try as we might to only have it open six days a week, it wasn’t feasible when there was money to be made. The need to feel his body around mine is greater than anything else right now. Mace’s lips press against the crown of my head. He holds himself there, breathing me in, and I take solace in this moment.
“Yes, but I don’t go in until noon,” I tell him, wishing like hell we were in a different world and at a different time in our life when working part-time was still happening, so we could have more time together.
