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No. Both Rigby and River had stripped out of their suit jackets and rolled up the sleeves of their dress shirts as soon as they stepped in the door, and holy forearm porn, Batman. I couldn’t stop looking at the way River’s fingers flexed around his bottle of beer, or the subtle veins in Rigby’s thick forearms.
Damn.
I made my escape upstairs as quickly as humanly possible. Ensuring that I grabbed the baby monitor and shut the door to the nursery, I threw on the oversized Disneyland shirt I used as sleepwear. Then I reached under the bed and unzipped a side pocket of my duffle bag, pulling out the Pink Rocket. It had been a gift from Chloe last Christmas. She’d put that shit right under the tree too; my dad had almost choked on his eggnog when I opened it and didn’t hide the contents fast enough.
But it was a thoughtful gift in a very Chloe kind of way. She was all about spreading empowerment by taking control of your own orgasms. She had a whole fifteen-minute TED Talk on how the invention of rechargeable batteries had revolutionised the sexual landscape of this country. Whether that was true or not, I was going to have to take the edge off this hunger I had or I was going to do something dumb, such as climb Rigby like a damn tree.
I dived deep into my spank bank, pulling out all the hot actors with rippling abs, and that one billboard in Times Square that had caused a social media uproar and given a woman a heart attack. I thought about a scene I’d read in my latest book where the male lead bent her over in an alleyway and took her where anyone could see them. I tried to think ofanythingbut the three hot men I was living with.
I failed.
I tried not to think of Rigby’s strong arms as he carried me up the stairs. Would he hold me against a wall and pound into me, like I was the only thing he needed to survive? Would River watch us from the end of the hallway, then come over and join us, pressing me tightly between their muscular chests as they licked and kissed across my skin? In my fantasies, they shared me between them, tasting me and taking me like I was a dessert so sweet they had to share.
And Devan… He would wrap his hand around my throat as he pushed inside me, those eyes staring down at me, commanding me to come when he said…
I was so fucking close to coming. So close.
“Hey, buddy. Did you wake up?” A whispered voice came from the nursery, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out.
Fuck. I wasso goddamn close.
I bit my lip as I increased the speed on the Pink Rocket, needing to get this finished fast. I accidentally hit the g-spot vibration setting and rocketed up in bed on a moan.
Shit, fuck.I looked at the baby monitor and Devan was there, his eyes on the door between the bedroom and the nursery. Watching his face in shades of gray, I slapped one hand over my mouth and went harder, crying out as my body shook with orgasms. Devan’s eyes intently watched the door, almost like he could see me coming as I thought about him.
It just made me come harder. I imagined he was watching me as I came, and I whispered his name in a gasp. His whole body was held taut, like he could hear me, but I knew he couldn’t. I hoped.
I let my loose limbs flop to the side. Then I raced to the bathroom, had a shower and pretended I didn’t just come to the thought of Devan choking me while he watched me orgasm.
The following morning, everyone left early. Rigby and River had a player meeting and physiotherapy, and Devan had an early morning meeting. I was home alone for the first time with Huey, and it was a weird feeling. It was a university town, so there were a lot of young people with backpacks running around, generally being carefree.
I reminded myself I was still young, and while I mightn’t be carefree, I wasn’t someone's grandmother. I just had a built-in bestie for a while. Like, eighteen years. Huey was a gift. I knew that.
But when I saw the college students, some my age, it was easy for the bitterness to creep into the edges of my happiness. This wasn’t how I’d seen my life going. I was meant to get my degree, go on a bunch of depressing online dating app dates until I found one that broke the mold of horrible. We’d date for a couple of years until we got engaged. Then I’d have a decent, proper career, we’d settle down, and I’d have a family when I was about thirty.
Who would date a woman who was saddled down with a baby already? A baby who came with three oversized and intimidating protectors?
I sighed, deciding I needed to get out of the house. I had yet to use my new car, though Devan had driven us to the stadium in it the other night. It was the most comfortable car my ass had ever sat in.
I packed up some stuff, including a couple of bottles for Huey and a sandwich for me, and loaded it all into the SUV. It was lucky this place had such a huge driveway so I could get a feel for this giant tank of a vehicle.
Finally, when I rolled out onto the road, I was confident that I could drive this beast into battle and win. It was a beautiful day, and I’d read about a sweet park south of the river that was a nice place to take kids. We’d go and have a picnic, because that seemed like the parental thing to do, and if I had to be trapped inside one more day, I’d go insane.
Eventually, I’d need to come off hiatus for my clients, but not yet. I wasn’t ready to go back to working, staring at a computer screen for hours on end. I hadn’t even tried to juggle it yet with Huey.
Next week, I’d start getting back into the daily grind. This week, I’d just enjoy getting to know my baby brother a little better.
I drove five miles under the speed limit—probably annoying all the people behind me—until the navigation system told me to turn off. I could see why people raved about this park. It was sweet, filled with children, rolling green lawns and flowers.
I loaded everything into Huey’s stroller and walked around the paths for an hour. When he grizzled hungrily, I circled back toward the car until I found a place to lay down a picnic blanket I’d pilfered from the house, and sat down to feed Huey.
“Your son is beautiful,” an older lady commented as she strolled past. “You should put more clothes on him, though. You don’t want him to get a chill.”
I looked up at her, wide-eyed. “Thank you for your advice,” I replied politely. I didn’t correct her about Huey being my brother.
She looked down at my left hand, then back at my face with a slight frown. “It must be tough being a teenage single mother,” she said, shaking her head. “Babies having babies. Who is there to teach you all the lessons you need to keep your baby alive?”
I stared at the woman. “Excuse me?”
