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"Anything for you, Sienna. I'll give you everything you want and more." I would literally do anything for her right now. She has me completely vulnerable, in love and hooked on her.
"Ohhh, I love the way you make me feel. I never want this moment to end." She is still trying to be quiet, but her orgasm is making it too hard. I can feel her pussy squeezing my cock. She bucks and grinds against me, her entire body shakes.
As we move together in the darkness, our breathing becoming more and more ragged. I whisper dirty words in her ear, telling her how much I want her, how beautiful she is, and how she's driving me wild. She responds with her own dirty talk, urging me on, telling me how much she loves me.
We both know we're close, but we don't want it to end just yet. We slow down our movements, teasing each other, building the tension even higher. Finally, we can't hold back any longer, and we come together in a wild, passionate moment. I empty myself inside her, holding onto her hips as the aftershocks of her orgasm rip through her.
“Wow, that was—” she doesn’t finish her sentence, she falls forwards, collapsing down on me and I wrap my arms around her. Holding on, holding her there on top of me as we both take a second to come back down to earth. I roll us over, so she is lying next to me. Her gorgeous eyes looking into mine, and all I can see is love.
We lie there together, our bodies entwined, breathing heavily. I hold her close to me, feeling her heart beating against mine. I know I'm the luckiest man in the world to have her, and I want to spend the rest of my life making her feel this good.
“You are not very good at being quiet,” she says with a sleepy smile on her face. “We will have to practice that.” I wouldn’t mind some extra practice like we just had. I pull her closer, and she rests her head on my chest. Both of us are well and truly worn out now, we fall asleep—together in my bed—naked. I pull the covers up over us just in case we woke Nova with the little noise we did make.
TWENTY
SIENNA
The end of the summer is looming like a giant storm on the horizon ready to just decimate everything in its path. Lance has been up and down to New York for the past two weeks, and the reality of them leaving is getting very hard to ignore. It’s like an enormous elephant in every room of the house, sucking all the air out with it.
Lance isn’t a talker. He doesn’t exactly discuss the way he feels, or what is going on. We are like this happy little family when we are all together, and at night, when Nova goes to sleep, he makes love to me in his bed, we fall asleep together but what we never seem to do is talk—not about anything important anyway. School and schedules and the sexiest god damned pillow talk ever—that we manage just fine. But I think we are both afraid of our feelings, and afraid we will get hurt, so we just don’t talk about it.
The number of times I have opened my mouth to ask if he wants me to go with them and then shut it without saying anything is alarming. I can’t face the possibility of him saying no, that he might reject me or not want me to be part of his new life. Not knowing is starting to make me anxious, and the past two days he was in New York, I realized how much I love him. That being without him hurts me. I missed him—honestly, I don’t think I can live without him. I know that I don’t want to.
“Sienna,” Nova calls me, “we are going to be late for soccer.” He hates being late. We are never actually late, but to Nova, twenty minutes early is late. It’s the one thing he looks forward to most in the week, and I try to shake off my own heavy mood.
“Let’s go then. Where’s your boots and bag?” I ask, and he shrugs—he had them a few minutes ago, now to find where he put them down. I scan the room and see one shoe on the floor and another on the sofa. Grabbing them, I hear him say he has his bag, and we both get to the elevator as the doors open, and Lance steps out.
“Dad,” he squeals. “You’re back.” My heart leaps seeing his handsome face when he smiles at his son. “Want to come with me to soccer?” I can see he is tired from traveling and step in.
“Dad just got in. We can see him after soccer,” I say, and Lance gives me a soft kiss hello. “Hi, we missed you,” I say because we have both missed him so much. Lance smiles and speaks.
“Let me change and I will come with you to soccer.” Nova bounces with happiness at that idea and tells his dad to hurry so we are not late being early to soccer. Lance comes back out in his gym shorts, a white V-neck shirt and a baseball cap. He looks sexy as hell, and now all the soccer moms are jealous because he’s mine. I am not oblivious to the sideways looks I get when he holds my hand or that they are whispering about us. It’s not like they try to hide it. I have watched them just about throw themselves at him in hope of getting his attention the way I do.
It’s a miracle that so far, no one has reported me to the agency, I know they all know who I work for. One call would be enough to have me fired. But somehow, that hasn’t happened, yet.
Lance’s eyes never wander, though. He has this ability to make them all invisible. He doesn’t even see them. “Let’s go,” he takes the car keys from me, and even though he’s tired, he offers, “I will drive.”
Lance puts his hand on my thigh in the car. It makes me feel like he missed me too. “How was the trip?” I ask because he looks tired and hasn’t said much since he got home. Things have been tense at his office. In the few phone calls I have overheard, the move is not going smoothly.
“It was okay,” his voice is fast. “I think it will be easier once I am there. Doing this from far away isn’t ideal.” It is not long now, and they’ll be packing the house to move. My heart is heavy thinking about it—I try not to. I’m not paying too much attention to the road, but when I do, I notice we are not going in the right direction for soccer practice.
At first, I think Lance might be avoiding traffic. It is Friday afternoon, and it can get a bit crazy on the roads. But then he takes a left turn, that is not a detour—he’s heading in the completely wrong direction. Nova hasn’t said anything, but I know he will get antsy about being late soon.
“We’re going the wrong way,” I say, looking over at Lance. “You can’t get to the soccer club this way around.” He smirks at me.
“I know,” he says with a devious smile. “We’re skipping soccer today.” I frown because no one has told me that. We can’t just skip. Nova won’t get chosen for the game on Sunday. He has been doing so well. They choose him almost every week now. He’ll be disappointed.
“We have a surprise.” Nova blurts out and Lance gives him a look that says he best not say another word. They both look guilty as sin. I am obviously the last to know we are not going to soccer.
“We can’t just skip soccer,” I say. “Nova has to be there to get on the team.” That’s the rules, and I understand why they do it. So many parents and kids are flaky about attending. I have made him go even on Fridays when he was busy playing with his friends and begged me not to. It’s important that they stay committed to something if they start it.
“The coach knows he won’t be there,” Lance says. “I excused him from this week’s practice and match.” I am confused, but the two of them are up to something, and I am not sure I want to guess what.
“What exactly are you up to?” I ask Lance, who has a playful smile on his face—highly unusual for him, especially after a stressful work trip. “Do I want to know?”
“Yes, you do,” Nova says and Lance puts a finger to his lips, shushing him.
“Oh, I do?” I ask him, and he squeezes his lips shut, giggling. Lance puts his hand over mine and speaks.
