Getting Schooled

by Parker, Ali

  Jace groaned above me.

  He gathered my hair off my face and into his fist on the back of my head. Then he pushed me for more, working himself in deeper, cutting off my air supply. I held his stare and held him until he pulled out. Then I worshipped his cock like he deserved, sucking and licking and letting him fuck my throat however he wanted.

  I was dripping wet within seconds.

  “Fuck me,” he grated.

  I worked him harder and faster. When I could hardly stand it any longer, I rubbed myself, desperate, hungry, famished.

  Jace broke, jerked me up to my feet, and spun me around so that I was facing the bed. Then he pushed me forward onto my hands and knees, put his hand in the small of my back, and pushed down hard, forcing me to arch. He grabbed my ass, squeezed hard, and spread my cheeks before easing two fingers into my pussy.

  “Keep quiet,” he warned.

  How was I supposed to do that?

  He fucked me hard and fast. My toes curled instantly, and I collapsed forward onto the mattress to bury my face in his sheets so I could muffle my cry of pleasure. Concluding that I wasn’t too loud so long as my screams were thrown into his bedding, Jace fucked me harder.

  Fresh wetness bloomed between my legs as I came. Jace groaned. I whimpered into the bed. My own juices ran down the inside of my legs, which were still spasming even after Jace was through with me. He gave my ass a slap with wet fingers.

  “Stay where you are.”

  I wasn’t capable of moving. I was rooted to the spot on my hands and knees, desperate for breath.

  And for his cock.

  Jace rummaged through his nightstand for a condom. I heard him tear the wrapper open and walk back around the bed to stand behind me. I waited as patiently as I could for him to touch me again. But he strung me along and made me wait.

  I looked back at him over my shoulder.

  Jace smirked. “You want it, kitten?”

  I nodded.

  “I can’t hear you.”

  “I want it.”

  He stepped in close and ran his cock along my opening, dragging my juices up and down my aching slit. “You’re so fucking wet.”

  I moaned and pushed back against his cock.

  He tried to resist. I could see it in the tight lines of his shoulders that he was straining against the desire, but he caved, pushed forward, and slid his cock inside me. I took all of him. The pressure was immense but glorious, and I bounced on his cock, waxing his length with every stroke.

  “That’s it, baby. Just like that.”

  His praise spurred me on. I wanted to make him feel as good as he made me feel, so I dropped down to my elbows, spread my knees, and bounced faster.

  “Fuck,” he hissed.

  Then he reached for my right elbow and pulled my arm behind my back. He did the same with my other arm until he pinned both with one hand in the small of my back. He pushed down, holding me in place, and then he bucked wildly against me.

  “Oh shit,” I breathed.

  “Come, baby. Let it go.”

  I didn’t have much of a choice.

  The pleasure doubled. I gave in, crying out Jace’s name into his bedding until I could hardly breathe, and he fucked me harder until he climaxed at the same time as me and we both descended into an abyss of euphoria.

  When we were done, we broke apart and fell onto the bed to lie on our backs and stare at the strip of moonlight on the ceiling.

  “That was worth the wait,” Jace said, his chest rising and falling with each breath he drew.

  I rolled into his side and draped an arm over his ribs. “Absolutely.”

  He stroked my hair, and I closed my eyes, listening to the steady sound of his heart beating beneath my cheek.

  Chapter 29

  Jace

  I’d never been much of an early riser. In fact, I had a reputation of rolling out of bed shortly before noon back in the day before I had responsibilities and a child and a job. I’d start my day with lunch while I was in college, and knowing myself so well, I’d managed my semesters so that I only had one early start a week, and the other days were all afternoon and evening lectures.

  It had been a wise decision. I might not have ever received my degree if I started school at the crack of dawn. And in my world, eight in the morning constituted the crack of dawn.

  But this morning, I woke up only half an hour after the sun came up—and without the assistance of an alarm. My bedroom was bright, almost as if the sun was right outside my window, painting everything in a whitewashing glow. It was kind of like a dream sequence in a shitty romance movie. All that was missing were the softly blowing sheer white curtains around the window and a vase of fresh flowers on the nightstand.

  I rubbed at my eyes and shielded them from the glare as I put my back to the window and rolled onto my side. My gaze fell upon Emelia.

  My girl.

  She was in bed beside me. The sun hadn’t woken her, despite how it fell across her face, bleaching her eyelashes. Her eyelids fluttered in a dream, and her lips parted as she took a slow, steady breath.

  I wondered what she was dreaming about.

  Something peaceful no doubt.

  With careful fingers, I reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and let my thumb glide softly across her cheek.

  How had I gotten so lucky that the universe brought her back to me after all those years?

  Up until a few weeks ago, Emelia had been a distant memory. Distant, but still a bright light whenever my thoughts turned to her and I thought of the wedding and our night together. I’d thought about her often after Gwen left, wondering what could have been, where I went wrong, what I’d missed out on.

  It was all pointless thinking, of course, because then I’d think about Paxton and how he truly was the light of my life.

  But still. She was here with me now. After years of being something I thought of when I was alone, here she was in my bed, dreaming.

  I was one lucky bastard.

  Prying myself away from my sleeping goddess took some effort, but I pulled back the covers slowly, swung my legs over the side of the bed, and padded to the dresser to throw on a T-shirt and a pair of loose gray sweatpants. I moved carefully, tediously, avoiding any squeaky floorboards. When I was dressed, I stole one last glance at Emelia, who hadn’t moved an inch, before slipping out the bedroom door and closing it behind me.

  Then I headed for the kitchen.

  I hadn’t cooked breakfast for a woman since Gwen and I were in the happy stages of our marriage. So, in other words, about three years ago. Paxton was still just a wee little guy who could only crawl, and on the mornings when I knew Gwen needed some pampering, I’d get out of bed, make her breakfast, and try to serve it to her in bed. Most of the time, she’d get up and be in the shower by the time I was done cooking, and I’d have to keep things hot for her for when she came out. Looking back, I could see how it all became a lot more effort than what it was worth because on some occasions, she didn’t even eat any of it. She’d have her morning coffee and read her online magazines, and we’d sit quietly at the coffee table together.

  “Maybe we were never happy,” I muttered as I tugged open the fridge and took note of all the ingredients I could use to whip up a creation.

  Red and green peppers. Breakfast sausage. Cheese. Eggs. Potatoes.

  Hash browns and omelettes, it was. I could do scrambled eggs for the kids. Maybe a side of bacon. Yes, that would do.

  But first things first: coffee.

  As soon as the pot started to brew, I heard a door open down the hall. Cursing myself for not getting up earlier to surprise her, I turned, expecting Emelia.

  But it wasn’t her.

  Paxton and Linden stood in the doorway to the kitchen, Pax rubbing at his eyes, Linden yawning and stretching his arms over his head.

  “Morning, boys,” I said, keeping my voice low. “How’d you sleep?”

  Paxton padded into the kitchen. “Good.”

&n
bsp; “And you, Linden?”

  “Like a baby,” he said, following Paxton into the kitchen.

  I poured them each a glass of orange juice and attempted to smooth out Paxton’s wild hair. It was also a thick tangled mess in the mornings, but he refused to let me cut it shorter. One of these days, I was going to put my foot down and make it happen. Baby steps, I remembered Emelia telling me. One victory at a time. Slow progress was still progress.

  They sat at the table with their juice and watched me start whipping eggs in a bowl while the oven preheated and the hash browns fried in a pan.

  “What are you making?” Linden asked.

  “I’m surprising your mom with breakfast. She’s still asleep.”

  Paxton smacked his lips after three gulps of orange juice. “Can we help?”

  “Of course.” I grinned. “Help is always welcome. I have a special task you can do. Can you guys set the table?”

  Linden blinked at me. “Isn’t that only for Thanksgiving and Easter and Christmas?”

  I chuckled. “Nope. You can set a table for any special occasion.”

  “What’s the special occasion?” Paxton cocked his head to the side.

  Pumping the brakes, I pursed my lips together. How could I phrase this without giving away that I was falling in love with Linden’s mom? Emelia and I hadn’t talked things through enough yet for me to decide on my own to let them in on the fact that we were dating. Well, dating without the label, anyway.

  I proceeded carefully. “The four of us are together, and it’s the end of a very fun weekend together. So why not end things on a good note with a nice breakfast on a set table?”

  Linden shrugged.

  “Pax, can you show Linden where we keep the tablecloth and napkins? Let me know if you guys need help.”

  The boys set to their task, and I worked at the stove, getting everything ready and saving the eggs for last. When Emelia got up, I’d start the eggs, and the timing would be perfect.

  “Your mom likes breakfast food, right, Linden?” I asked.

  Linden and Paxton were opening a white and blue checkered tablecloth together, and they did a shit job of pulling it over the kitchen table. I helped them straighten it out, and Linden said, “Yes. She likes eggs. And toast. And pancakes.”

  “Good,” I said, my sudden worry slipping away.

  We worked together to fold white napkins and set them beside plates. Then we put out cutlery, salt and pepper, a pitcher of water, and some cups.

  I stood back with my fists on my hips. “What do you think?”

  Paxton and Linden looked at our work with appreciative smiles. Paxton smiled up at me. “It looks good, Dad.”

  I ruffled his still wild hair. “Excellent. Thanks for your help, you guys.”

  Paxton and Linden proceeded to play around and under the kitchen table while I put the last touches on breakfast. The eggs were good to go, and all the ingredients for the omelettes were diced up and separated in bowls. I wasn’t sure what toppings Emelia would like, so I held off.

  My bedroom door opened about half an hour after I first got up.

  Emelia wandered out, wearing her leggings from yesterday and one of my shirts, which she’d knotted at the front to make shorter (and look less like my shirt). Her hair was equally, if not more, messy than Paxton’s, and she was stifling a yawn when she came into the kitchen, her bare feet padding softly on the tile.

  “What’s all this?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

  Linden rushed to wrap his arms around her legs in a good morning hug. “Jace made breakfast for us.”

  She stroked his hair but looked at me. A smile touched her lips. “Did he now? That’s so thoughtful.” She sniffed at the air. “It smells heavenly in here.”

  “I hope you like omelettes,” I said.

  She nodded. “I do.”

  “Good. Coffee is in the pot. Mugs are in the cupboard above. I’m going to throw the eggs on, folks. We’ve got about six minutes before food is ready. So, boys, wash your hands. Lady, fix your coffee. Go, go, go!”

  Linden and Paxton shot off down the hall to the bathroom to wash their hands, just like I hoped they would, and I stole the minute to go to Emelia and pull her in for a good morning hug. I stole a couple kisses, too.

  She hooked her arms around my waist and smiled up at me. “This is the best way to start the day.”

  “I agree.” I left a kiss on the top of her nose. The sink turned off in the bathroom, and we broke apart shortly before the boys came back into the kitchen. Emelia made herself a coffee and topped off my mug. Paxton and Linden took their seats at the kitchen table and waited patiently as the last fixings all came together.

  I filled everyone’s plates before taking my seat.

  “This is an impressive spread,” Emelia said. “I don’t know where to start.”

  “Anywhere.” Linden smiled at her. “It’s all good.”

  Emelia and I stole flirty looks at each other while we ate. The boys told us about a new Lego set they wanted, and we put on a good show of knowing exactly which one they were talking about.

  Then Emelia shifted the conversation. “Do you know what you’re dressing up as for Halloween, Paxton?”

  Paxton shrugged. “No.”

  Emelia gave me a quizzical look.

  I washed a bite of hash browns down with a sip of coffee. “Paxton still hasn’t decided if he wants to Trick or Treat this year.”

  “What?” Linden asked explosively. His eyes widened, his mouth fell open, and he sat paralyzed with his fork clutched in one hand. “You don’t want to go Trick or Treating?”

  Paxton felt the heat right away, looked at his lap, and shook his head. “It’s boring by yourself.”

  Emelia chewed her bottom lip. “Would it change things if you had someone else to go with?”

  Paxton looked at me.

  “Would it, buddy?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  Emelia smiled. “Well, what do you say the four of us go together?”

  Linden sucked in a huge breath of excitement. “That would be so fun. I already have my costume. It’s so cool. I’m going to be a Ninja. What do you want to be, Paxton?”

  Paxton shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

  I reached over and put a hand on my son’s shoulder. “We’ll go pick out a costume this week. You can be whatever you want. And what do you say? Should the four of us go Trick or Treating together this year?”

  Paxton nodded. “Yes please.”

  I straightened and grinned at Emelia. “It’s settled. The four of us are going to collect as much candy as humanly possible. Deal?”

  “Deal,” the three of them echoed.

  Chapter 30

  Emelia

  Linden didn’t want to leave Jace’s house that Sunday morning. All he wanted to do was spend the day with Paxton making Halloween night plans, and Paxton seemed to want to do the same thing, which thrilled Jace.

  But there were things that needed doing at home.

  Like laundry and a good house cleaning. Having been gone for almost the whole weekend, I hadn’t gotten around to the usual things I did at the beginning of the week to prepare for the work week ahead. I had to cram it all into one late afternoon, which included meal prepping for mine and Linden’s lunches, cleaning, grocery shopping, and four loads of laundry.

  By the time Linden’s bedtime rolled around, I was dead on my feet and considering slipping into bed too.

  “Come on, champ,” I said, lightly pushing him by the shoulders to lead him from the living room, where he’d fallen asleep on the sofa with his head in my lap, to the bathroom. “Let’s brush our teeth, put our jammies on, and go to bed.”

  Linden didn’t protest. He was too sleepy. He brushed his teeth, and I brushed mine, him standing on his stool so he could reach the sink, me leaning against the wall by the toilet. We both spat, rinsed, flossed, and then I took him to his room. He changed into his pajamas and was curled up in bed in no time.
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  The nightlight in the wall socket beside his bed cast pale blue stars up onto the wall. They flickered and danced as I stroked his hair, kissed his forehead, and told him to have a good sleep.

  “Love you, Momma,” he said when I made my way to the door.

  I paused to look back at him. “I love you too, Linden. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I left the door open an inch and went into the kitchen, where I made myself a cup of ginger and mint green tea. As it steeped, I reflected on the weekend.

  It felt like I’d been with family. Like all at once, the four of us had found where we were supposed to be and who we were supposed to be with.

  There was a warm, glowing feeling in my chest that had started on Friday evening and continued all the way to now. I couldn’t have asked for a better time. The boys connected, and my relationship with Jace deepened. He was a great father. I loved watching him with his son—correction, sons, plural—at the park.

  I sighed as I pulled my teabag out of my cup.

  There was still a lot of unknown swirling around Jace and me. And he had no idea.

  I was surprised when my phone started ringing on the kitchen table. I picked it up and frowned as Marie’s name flashed across the screen. She didn’t usually call at nine o’clock at night on a Sunday.

  “Hey, Marie,” I said, holding the phone to my ear. “Is everything okay?”

  I could hear that she was driving and a window was cracked open. Wind rushed around, and her voice sounded very far away. “Hey. Yes, totally all right. Where are you right now?”

  I frowned. “Home. Why?”

  “I’m in the neighborhood. Do you mind if I pop in for a quick visit? I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  Talk to me about something? About what? Maybe it was related to her pregnancy? Good lord, I hoped everything was okay. “Sure thing. I just made a pot of tea. Do you want some? Ginger mint? Or chamomile? Or decaf chai?”

  “Decaf chai sounds amazing.”

  “I’ll fix it for you right now.”