Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
This was all Nathan’s fault. He was the one who’d walked around with just a towel wrapped around his hips all morning. Apparently, it was his “thing” at the new house. To take a shower in the morning and then have his coffee out on the patio in the morning sun. And after that, he’d obviously lost track of time, and getting dressed had fallen further down the list of priorities as the kids had woken up with their demands and high-maintenance behavior.
Was there any time for Ash? Nope. My to-do list was too long. Goddammit.
I let out a groan as the pressure pushed me right to the edge. A few more seconds, and then I could screw my head on right and tackle the rest of the errands.
To James’s credit, he was a good fuckhole. He clenched down on me and met every thrust.
Finally.
I sucked in a breath and slammed into him as the climax crashed down on me.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I groaned.
“Can I come, boss?” he panted.
I didn’t answer, busy feeling the sexual frustration leave my body. At long last.
A big breath gusted out of me, and I ground deeper into his ass.
“Please, boss.”
I chuckled, out of breath. “Absolutely fuckin’ not.”
He was perfect when he was horny and needy. He got clingy and sent dirty texts. His filters were down. That was how Nate and I wanted him.
After a moment, I pulled out and smeared traces of my come across his ass.
“Clean me up,” I said, slumping down in my desk chair. “We gotta be outta here in five.”
“Yessir.” He cleared his throat and pulled up his jeans. “May I use my mouth?”
I grinned lazily. “You dirty fuck. Sure, but you kiss me first.”
He grinned back and planted his hands on the armrests. “I love kissin’ you.”
Well, hey. That was some nice honesty.
I pulled him down and kissed him deeply.
I couldn’t wait to get this place on the market.
Once I’d locked the door, I brought out my phone and checked the to-do list.
Pack up the truck with the next load of moving boxes, check. We’d picked up the Carters’ wedding gift on the way over to the old house, so check on that one too. We’d bought the material to reline the pool. I’d emailed the Realtor, check.
Okay, off to buy a new basketball hoop. Now that Dylan was going all in on his golf dream, that activity would no longer be optimal to get him to open up and chat with his old man. Instead, I was returning to one of the first sports we’d played together. Basketball. We had a great driveway for it too, not to mention plenty of space above the garage door.
Returning to the truck, I noticed James was on the phone.
I got behind the wheel.
“I promise he’s not cranky anymore,” he chuckled. “Yes, Sir.”
“Is that Nate?” I asked. “You tell him I did all the work. You just dropped your pants and bent over.”
Because let’s not get shit twisted here.
I heard Nathan laughing in the background, so he must’ve heard me.
Good.
James could sit there and blush.
Wednesdays were bullshit.
No, really. They were worse than Mondays. Wednesdays brought a false sense of “the weekend is just around the corner,” but it fucking wasn’t. Actually, since I loved my job, Mondays weren’t bad at all. But I was still getting closer to fifty every damn day, so by Wednesday, I was feeling the weekday fatigue and needed my weekend to start.
I yawned and waited for Hallie to get out of school.
It seemed Mikey was having a shit Wednesday too. He was asleep in the back seat.
“Daddy?” Lily wasn’t asleep. She’d been asking questions nonstop since I’d picked her up. Mostly about beads, colors, glitter glues, and how magnets worked.
“Yeah, princess.”
“What’s a poem?”
I scratched my forehead and drummed my fingers along the wheel. “Uh. It’s when you talk in rhymes. Like…roses are red, go to bed.”
“Huh.”
I eyed her in the rearview. “Why? Are they teaching you poetry in kindergarten? If that’s the case, you might wanna ask Daddy too. His answers tend to be…” Correct? “A bit different.”
She shook her head. “Hallie’s doing poems in her homework.”
Ah. That made more sense.
My phone buzzed on the dash, so I picked it up and saw a message from Jordan.
Hi, Daddy! When will you be home? I’m ready with my crafts.
I smiled and responded to him.
Hey, sweetheart. We’ll be home in about 20. Lily’s excited about making magnets. You and James are staying for dinner, right? It’s spaghetti night.
It was best to phrase certain questions as assumptions. Otherwise, both James and Jordan could get careful about “stepping on toes.” And that was ridiculous. Nate and I were hooked on our new routines. Well, they were becoming routines. Besides, the girls already adored Jordan. Mikey too. He found Jordan hilarious.
So did I. The other day, he and James had given me their birthday present. Jordan had been frustrated, claiming it was impossible to get me alone long enough to explain the joke… But it was funny—and sweet as hell. He’d made me a bracelet with letter beads that spelled out “Take it up with HR, sunshine,” an ode to his awesome Daddy’s love for inappropriate jokes, but also a subtle nod to Hackett and Riley. It was a symbol I could wear openly, alongside some of the bracelets my kids had made me.