Eight Days a Week

by Amber L. Johnson

  Her head swayed to the side, and she gave a breathy sigh. I dipped my finger into the cake and traced her collarbone, the scent of sweet icing filling my nose again as I spread the smooth confection there and licked it off.

  She massaged my scalp with her fingertips, and I slid the chair back to lean her against the wood table. I pinched a bit of the cake between my fingers and brought it to her lips. She bit it, then licked it off, her eyes fluttering closed as I smeared more across her nipple with my other hand. I bent to lick it off, and she bit down on my thumb. Her fingers were twitching, legs tightening against my sides while I rolled my tongue across her breast.

  Her hands dropped to my shirt, and she pulled herself forward to kiss me hard, grinding against my lap. Mouthwatering sugary sweetness invaded my mouth as I sought out her tongue and kneaded her breasts, my thumbs circling in a slow torture.

  I trailed more icing down her sides and across the top of her panties. She kicked her shoes off, cursing the flip-flops, muttering something about dirty feet. But that was the farthest thing from my mind, so I lifted her off my lap and set her down on the table, wrapping her legs around my waist while I went to work cleaning up the mess I’d just created on her ribs and hips. She pulled my T-shirt over my head and tossed it away before running her palms over my skin.

  I licked her neck, tracing wet circles with my tongue where my fingers had just painted her with cake. I rolled my hips into her, and she tightened her legs and tilted her hips to meet me.

  I sighed and ran my palms over her hips and under her thighs, gripping them and pulling her closer to my hard-on. Then I bent over to work my mouth across the waistband of her lacy underwear. I dipped my tongue below the fabric, and she bucked against the table. Her eyes closed when my hands cupped her ass cheeks and squeezed, lifting her hips toward my face in one fluid motion.

  “Wait.”

  My head shot up.

  “The kids eat breakfast here.”

  I let out a frustrated grunt and buried my face in her neck, rocking against her. She surveyed the demolished cake, crumbled and littering the tabletop, and giggled.

  “You really, really liked your gift.”

  I ran a sticky hand across her cheek before leaning in and kissing her jaw. “We need to get you clean.”

  “My shower is bigger.”

  I secured her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist, unwilling to waste another minute. Our bodies were pressed together, sliding with sweat and sticky friction, our mouths fused and breathing as one while I climbed the stairs. I didn’t even know we’d reached the bathroom until her loud breaths echoed off the tiles.

  She slid out of my arms and turned on the water, then swiveled to watch me disrobe. Naked and ready, I spun her around, slipped my thumbs into the top of her lacy panties and rolled them down her legs. She stepped out of them and into the shower, and I was right behind her, never leaving more than an inch between our skin as we stood in the spray.

  We took turns under the water, and I couldn’t stop staring at the way the beads and drops played along her skin, glittering in the light and curving over every inch of her body. She soaped up her puffy sponge, and I took it from her and ran it up her belly. She giggled when I reached her underarms.

  “Stop wiggling,” I said, laughing, and she relaxed under my touch.

  I lathered up her chest and stomach before pulling her hair over her shoulder and reaching around to her back. She leaned into my chest and closed her eyes as I moved my hand lower to her ass, then her legs.

  I slid my hands up from her feet, and the buzz of anticipation made me dizzy as I rested them between her thighs. My eyes lifted to hers while I rubbed in gentle circles, and her breathing grew heavier. Smiling, I rose and pulled her under the water and let her rinse off while I soaped up myself.

  “No fair,” she said. “I wanted to do that.”

  “You can do it again.”

  I yanked her waist and pressed my body to her, bending to kiss her until she was gasping for air in the steamy shower.

  “This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.” My lips traveled across her jaw and down her neck, and she clung to me, whimpering. “Thank you,” I whispered in her ear, and she managed a weak nod before I turned her back to my chest and leaned her forward. She braced herself under the spray, planting her feet as I nudged her knees apart and pressed against her slickness.

  I slid my hand down her spine and rested it at the base while my other hand gripped the head of my cock at her entrance. I stilled and took a steadying breath.

  Gwen peered over her shoulder to look at me. “What are you waiting for?”

  I looked her in the eyes and slid in, watching her face as I was enveloped, buried as deep as I could go. Her eyelids fluttered and she choked out a breath. The water rushed across her shoulders and back, cascading across her hips and down her legs. Taking a deep breath and setting my jaw, I began to move.

  She curled her fingers against the wall and pressed back into me, taking me in as far as she could before I pulled back out. I gripped her hips, and she gasped for air when I thrust forward. Then I angled back and bent my knees, leveraging myself to move deeper. She slapped the wall above her head and made a noise like she was choking.

  I pressed my chest against her back and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. “I’ve never . . . I wish you knew . . .” I whispered against her temple.

  She turned her face turned to mine, catching the spray as she opened her mouth to slip her tongue between my lips.

  I slid my hand to her clit and took a shaky breath. “Are you close?”

  “Yes.” She dropped her head to watch my hand between her legs. My arms tensed, and I stopped breathing as the burn that had been growing in me came to a head and I lost my bearings.

  I braced against the wall as she came around my cock. Then I sped my thrusts and came, too. We stood still, letting the water run over us, and I placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder. Holding her up with one arm, I turned her face to mine with the other.

  Her eyes were glazed and her smile was lazy.

  I opened my mouth to say the words I’d been wanting to say, but instead I laughed, closing my eyes at how sensitive I felt when I slid out. We kissed again under the lukewarm water, and then she washed me before we stepped out and dried off.

  She couldn’t keep the smile off her face when I wrapped the big, fluffy, white towel around my waist.

  Chapter 22

  I Wanna Hold Your Hand

  From my perspective, I pretty much had everything I could ever ask for, and I wasn’t sure how an idiot like me had gotten so lucky. I woke up in bed the morning of my birthday with a beautiful woman I was falling in love with, and we were about to pick up the two kids who made me want to be a better man, and go celebrate with my family.

  But there was where my perfect world sort of cracked.

  I didn’t want to face my father or his judgmental eyes. I didn’t want to see my mom look at me like she couldn’t figure out where she’d gone so wrong raising me. I didn’t need my sister watching my every move like a puppeteer, trying to make things perfect between everyone. It just wasn’t going to happen.

  Gwen shifted in my arms, and I opened my eyes to see her face bathed in morning light. She moved again and opened her eyes, hazy with sleep and exhausted from the night we’d shared. She smiled and scrunched up her nose.

  “Happy birthday.”

  “Thanks.” I cleared my throat and ran a thumb over her bottom lip. “Want some cake?”

  She laughed, pressing her palm to her cheek and sighing. “I’ll never look at red velvet the same again, thanks.” She peeked through her fingers and smiled. “Are you nervous?”

  I rolled my eyes and flopped onto my back. “Nothing makes me nervous.”

  “You don’t have to lie to me.” She scooted closer and leaned up to look at me. “It’ll be fun, I promise. Your parents will see how you are with the kids and what a great job you’re doing.”
r />   I shrugged, then sat up and stretched. “I couldn’t care less what they think about me anymore, Gwen.”

  She sat up, too, and I froze when the comforter dropped onto her lap. Don was kind of a boob guy. And a morning guy.

  Gwen bit her lip, gazing at my reaction under the sheets. “Don’s awake.” She giggled.

  “What? Who told you about Don?” My attempt at a straight face was failing.

  Her face broke into an enormous grin, and she bounced on the bed, running her fingers through her hair. “Well, see, I had this theory that you were the kind of guy to name your dick. I couldn’t ask your sister about it. So I sent a spy.”

  “Wait,” I said, holding up my hand. “Someone else knows about Don?”

  “Just Tess. Cece seemed very eager to give up that little tidbit on you.”

  I pounced and trapped her against the mattress, holding her wrists overhead with one hand while I poked her side with the other. She squealed and wiggled, but I held firm. She laughed, her face flushing bright pink and her chest turning red. She gasped for air and fought against me while I tickled her.

  “Stop! I haven’t had my morning pee. Oh God, please stop. I don’t have rubber sheets like Brady!”

  I rolled across the comforter in a fit of laughter while she ran to the bathroom. Don appreciated the morning tickle and the tiny peep show, and I was pretty sure he was going to need satisfaction before we picked up the kids from Debra’s. Gwen leaned through the bathroom doorway, smiling around her toothbrush, still butt naked.

  “Here.” She flicked her wrist and threw a new toothbrush at me.

  I sat up, narrowing my eyes at the plastic package on the end of the bed. “Is there a reason why you have extra toothbrushes in here?”

  She laughed and spat into the sink. “Blame Debra. I get three of these in my stocking at Christmas every year.”

  Joining her in the bathroom, I brushed my teeth, butt-ass naked and aroused. She just gawked at me in the mirror with her mouth hanging open, and I had to force back my cocky—no pun intended—okay, pun intended—comments that I wanted to throw her way. After I rinsed, I planted my hands on my hips, and Don pointed at her.

  “You act like you’ve never seen it before.” I grinned when she blinked and shook her head.

  “I guess I’ve just never been properly introduced.” She gave a sly smile. “Hi, Don. I’m Gwen.”

  She reached out and wrapped her fingers around my shaft. I grunted. And then she shook it.

  “Wow, that’s a firm shake you’ve got there, Don.” She snorted and released me to head back into the bedroom.

  I scooped her up, threw her over my shoulder, and smacked her ass while she squealed and slapped mine in return. I dropped her onto the comforter, shook my head, and tsked. “You’ll pay for that.”

  Her eyebrows rose and she regarded my hard-on. “Um, I’m pretty sure whatever punishment you’re about to give me will be worth it.”

  Pushing against her stomach, I leaned forward and kissed her chin. “Definitely.”

  Gwen looked sexy with her hair back in a ponytail exposing her neck. She stared out the window of the Horny Hatchback with a small smile on her lips and a faint blush coloring her cheeks. It was a nice day outside, and I was sure the kids would be excited to swim at my parents’ house—especially Brady, since Joshua was going to be there with Tess. Ian had invited her because, let’s face it, I didn’t have all that many friends.

  I braked, coming to rest at a red light, never taking my eyes off Gwen. Her head cocked to the side, and she turned to look at me, smiling wider.

  “What?” she asked, her eyes big and hopeful.

  I’m in love with you.

  But my inner kid got to my mouth first and, instead of throwing a rock at her to show her we liked her, he said, “Chicken butt?”

  Her mouth dropped open and her face turned bright red. “What the hell?’

  “Kidding. It’s a joke from Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Brady loves it.”

  She slapped my arm and huffed, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “You’re an idiot.”

  “We already established that,” I mumbled and pulled into Debra’s driveway.

  Gwen unbuckled her seat belt and gave me a dirty look before getting out of the car. I followed, amused. She knew how immature I was. Wasn’t she getting used to that shit yet?

  Debra answered the door and scowled at me.

  “Hi, Mom. Are the kids ready?” Gwen twisted her hands, not even attempting to reach out for a hug.

  I felt worse about joking with her now. What Gwen needed was to be reminded that she was loved. Maybe I could give my inner kid some Benadryl and knock his ass out until I turned thirty. He’d wake up just as obnoxious, I was sure.

  Debra stepped to the side and let us through the door, nodding to let me know she acknowledged my presence. Gwen walked down the hallway to the rooms where the kids stayed on the weekends, and I stood, hands in pockets, looking around the foyer, since that’s about as far as I was allowed into Debra’s house.

  She stared at me, unspeaking and unblinking, while I tapped my foot.

  I adjusted the sleeves of my shirt, pulling at the material and stretching the cotton. The woman made me fidgety.

  “So it’s your birthday,” she said.

  I pursed my lips and nodded.

  “How old?” Her tone was icy.

  I gave her the best smile I could conjure up. “Twenty-six.”

  Debra’s eyes narrowed into little slits. “I didn’t know you were so close to my daughter’s age.”

  “Well, I am.”

  I could feel the disapproval rolling off her even before she spoke. “And why are you twenty-six without a real job?”

  Something in me snapped. Maybe it was because she looked at me the way my dad had for so many years. I leaned toward her, my face inches from hers.

  “You don’t think taking care of those kids is a real job? A full-time, eight-days-a-week job? Because I don’t have a nine-to-five, Mrs. Harris. I don’t get lunch breaks or holidays. I take care of Bree and Brady from six in the morning, sometimes until after eleven o’clock at night. I feed them. I bathe and dress them. I make sure that they stay active.” I swallowed, attempting to reset the volume of my voice.

  “I hold them when they cry. I go to school functions with them. What I’m trying to say is, at the age of twenty-six I am in charge of two very young, impressionable, needy children who are getting over a major tragedy in their lives. And I’m also taking care of their godmother, who has this weird hang-up about not being good enough to do it on her own.”

  Debra took a step back, her eyes wide and her mouth agape.

  “So, while you might look down on me for my decision to take a position that isn’t up to your particular standards of excellence for a man my age, please don’t fool yourself into thinking I’m any less educated or capable of doing something else. This family needs me.”

  Then Brady ran straight toward me from the back bedroom. “Dee!” he yelled, breathless, as he jumped into my arms.

  I gave him a genuine smile and picked him up while he gave me a hug. “Hey, buddy. Are you ready to swim with Joshua? And eat hot dogs?”

  Brady nodded. “Hot dogs! Thew’s a pawty in my tummy!” He giggled and grinned at me.

  I rolled my eyes and set him down on the floor. “You’re going to make me sing it back?”

  He nodded, bouncing.

  I rubbed my hand over my stomach. “So yummy, so yummy.”

  He fell back onto his bottom and rolled on the floor in a fit of laughter.

  “No more YoGabbaGabba, li’l man. It makes Dee’s brain crazy.”

  Brady stood up, still cackling, and hugged my leg. Bree rounded the corner, her arms full with her overnight bag and pillow, her face relieved. Gwen was right behind her, ushering her out to the car, and Brady followed.

  “Bye-bye,” Debra said quietly as the three of them headed down the front walk.

  I hesitated
at the door. “Maybe try giving her a hug next time,” I said. “Don’t let your opinions about me change the way you treat your daughter.”

  She pursed her lips and looked away.

  “Have a good day, Debra.”

  “Okay, guys, remember to be on your best behavior. No running around the pool. No throwing food.” Gwen gave a pointed look to Brady, and Bree nodded and waited for us to let her out of the car. “It’s Dee’s birthday, so please be polite to his family.”

  “They’ll be fine,” I said, telling myself the same thing.

  My conversation with Debra was resonating in my mind, and I tried to wrap my head around what I was feeling. Gwen had once told me I needed to let my dad know I loved him, because she’d have given anything to be able to say it to hers. I imagined that maybe I could do it. That maybe enough time and hurt feelings had passed that I could put my ego behind me and tell him it was okay and we’d move on from there.

  All those kind, peaceful thoughts flew out the window when I saw my father standing at the door, staring toward my ragtag family gathered around the car to get their bags. Maybe he was mesmerized by the pretty, shiny Hyundai. Maybe he was enamored by Gwen’s beauty. Maybe he was horrified at the sight of me, with kids in tow, showing up at his house for the first time in over two years.

  Whatever he was thinking, it wasn’t how damn much he loved his son, because the look on his face was of cold indifference as I stepped up to the door.

  His eyes met mine, and I gave him a tight smile, my insides churning under his gaze as I took a step closer.

  “Dad,” I said with a short nod. “I’d like you to meet Gwen, Bree, and Brady.”

  He smiled and showed his capped white teeth. “It’s very nice to meet all of you. The pool is straight back, and the food is almost ready.”

  Gwen led the kids toward the backyard, and I stood toe-to-toe with my father, bracing myself for verbal impact. His eyes traveled over my face, processing whether or not I’d changed since I’d seen him last. Then his lips pulled into a tight line and he sighed.