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That’s when I realized my mistake.
My dick was right at her entrance. The only thing keeping him back was my boxer briefs and her underwear, and both could be easily discarded.
I ran my nose down her throat before nuzzling on the other side, and shit. Shit. I was in trouble. My hand moved under her ass, groping her. My cock strained to get inside. He knew exactly where he wanted to be.
She moaned. Her hand moved to my chest, as if she was going to push me away. Instead, she slid it up to my shoulders and pulled me in.
Fuck yeah. That’s what I wanted.
I lifted my head, and her lips were right there, ready for me. Her mouth opened, and I was in there, exploring, claiming, tasting.
This was my woman.
Mine.
She tasted like honey on top of strawberries. I swept my hand up, tipping her head back.
“Wait.” Billie’s hand went to my chest. “Wait. Your phone.”
I growled. “Fuck my phone.”
“No.” She gasped, pulling away from me. “Will. You were going to call him.”
Reality came in, and it wasn’t welcomed. But dammit, she was right. I leaned against her, my head on her shoulder as I pushed up and reached for my phone. I was tempted to stay here, standing between her legs to do this call, but I couldn’t. I’d want to get off the phone so I could get off in a different way, and that wasn’t fair to Will or Billie.
I hit dial on his number and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Coffee’s brewing. There’s cream or milk in the fridge. If you want sugar, it’s in this cupboard.” I motioned to it as I headed out.
I was entering my office when Will answered. “Thefuckyouwant?”
I checked the time. It was four thirty there. “Shannon’s getting sprung in half an hour.”
“What?” He roared to life, and I imagined him bolting upright.
Right on cue, I heard grumbling in the background, followed by a quick muffled conversation before Will was back to the phone. “Fuck you, Brett. Just fuck you.”
“I only got the call thirty minutes ago myself.”
“Still. Fuck you.”
A door opened on his end, then closed. Then a soft steady buzz. I was guessing the bathroom fan? And yep. Now came the other sounds that happened when a guy got a rude wake-up call. The bladder needed to be emptied. There was some family resemblance here.
“She’s getting out of jail? Do you know anything else?”
“I called her lawyer a couple days ago, but he wouldn’t talk to me,” I said. “I’m guessing Shannon put him on ice, but she knows you have the kids, and she knows I’m the reason you have the kids.”
“Jesus Christ. Fuck. My life’s been normal. Normal and steady. We go to fucking little league, Brett. I know your mom never took you to little league. You have no idea what I’m talking about, but it’s something we do. We’re in 4-H, and we do the club all year round. We’re not just summer 4-H people. We’re year-round 4-H-ers. That’s us. Fuck you. Are you getting a picture here? I’m the guy who mans the door when our church does an overnight at the Fallen Crest Country Club. Me. My wife doesn’t just chaperone, she’s the one making fucking popcorn balls. Popcorn balls, Brett. This is the shit you never got growing up. Fuck, neither did I, but my childhood was a lot more normal than yours. That’s my life now. Are you getting the picture here?”
I gripped my phone. “I’m trying so you don’t hear my smile.”
He exploded on a litany of curses, which impressed me.
“Shit, Will. For a moment there, I thought maybe you didn’t share my genes. It’s nice to hear some familiarity.”
“Jesus—” and he was off with another slew of swear words. After a moment he reined himself in enough to say, “Stevie was using rolled-up toilet paper for when she got her period.”
“What? Why would you tell me something like that? I don’t need to know that stuff.”
He kept on, ignoring me. “She got her period for the first time a year ago.”
