“I know you were,” I say.
Finn crawls over, tackling both of us, and Slade rolls on his back, bench pressing him in the air. “A little sister.”
“Brother,” I say. “No girls.”
“Did your mommy not take biology? I control that,” he says, continuing to lift Finn up and down.
All I can do is roll my eyes. Maybe a girl wouldn’t be so bad since I’m already outnumbered. What am I thinking? If I’ve learned anything in my life, it’s not to dream.
But Slade is a dangerous man. He makes me dream, want, wish for things that I know I can’t have.
“What do you think?” he asks.
“Hmm?” I say, realizing he’s continued the conversation without me.
“I asked how you’d feel about me legally adopting Finn,” he says. “You know, later on, after you agree to marry me.”
My heart sinks, knowing that won’t ever happen. It can’t. “I love the idea,” I say. “But haven’t we had enough serious conversations the past couple of days?”
“I guess we have,” he says. “Right after you moved in, Jon told me that a baby ups the ante. He’s right.”
“He is,” I say, “but maybe you should learn how to change Finn’s diaper before you call your lawyer about adopting.”
“Alright,” he says, placing Finn on the ground. “Give me the crash course on diaper changing.”
*
“Shouldn’t I practice on a doll first?” Slade asks. “Jon told me in some baby class they took, they practiced putting diapers on dolls.”
I’m trying so hard not to laugh. Even though I have everything lined up for him, he continues to ask me question after question. It’s a diaper, not brain surgery. Still, it’s sweet that he wants to get it right and do a good job.
“I don’t have a doll,” I say.
“One of Finn’s stuffed animals?” he asks.
“Might be harder with tails,” I say, a little giggle escaping.
“You find this funny?” he asks.
“A little,” I say, giving him a quick peck. I want him to know he has nothing to prove to me. “This isn’t a test, Slade.”
“Don’t pee on me,” he says to Finn, starting to remove his dirty diaper.
He gets it off with no problem, then reaches for a baby wipe. “Make sure you clean everywhere,” I remind him. My cell phone rings, and I reach for it.
“Don’t answer that,” Slade says. “I might need backup.”
“You’re doing great,” I say, answering my phone. “Hey Catrine, anything happening on baby watch?”
She tells me she thought she felt a contraction earlier, but it turned out to just be gas. My poor friend is really starting to sound miserable. She’s enormously pregnant, and summers in Tennessee can be brutal.
“Well, over here, Slade is changing his first diaper.” She screeches so loud it probably wakes up Chewie, begging me to video him. “I’m not going to take a home movie,” I say, causing Slade to turn around.
“Tell her she’s fired!” he calls out.
“She says then Jon quits,” I say, repeating Catrine’s message from the other end.
Slade shakes his head, finishing up the diaper and holding up Finn for me to see. “Perfect,” I mouth to him. He holds Finn’s little hand up, giving him a high five.
“I promise I’ll come see you soon,” I tell Catrine before hanging up.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
SLADE
I watch her put Finn to sleep. I’m supposed to be learning his routine, but I think I’m learning more about Paige than I am about Finn’s bedtime ritual.
I listen to her read him a story. She doesn’t choose a picture book or something with silly meaningless rhymes. She reads him the story of Paddington Bear, which isn’t really about a bear at all. It’s about what it’s like to be without a home, the bumps and bruises life brings, and finally finding your family.
It might as well be the story of Paige the Bear.
I watch her hold him, kiss him, cuddle him, giving him all the love she wished she’d gotten. She doesn’t rush the process and remains totally focused on Finn. Then her eyes close, her hand rests on his little chest, and I listen to her say a prayer—a prayer that Finn will be blessed and protected while he sleeps.
No one guarded Paige while she slept. That job is mine now.
Reaching out, I take her hand, encouraging her out Finn’s bedroom door. She follows me, leaving the door cracked open. “It’s my turn to put you to bed,” I whisper, not caring at all that it’s barely eight at night.
“You going to give me a bottle and change my diaper?” she teases.
“I was thinking more a glass of wine and . . .” I pin her to the wall with my hips. “Trust me, you’ll need your panties changed when I’m through with you.”
The way she’s grinding into me, I’d bet her panties are already soaked. Locking eyes with her, I know this isn’t it. She hasn’t said a word. Her body is giving all the right signals, but the message in her eyes is very clear. Tonight is not the night.
My job as the man is not to try to convince her. My job is to respect her decision. I know how my dad treated my mom, and I know how he treated the other women. I want what he and my mom had. “What do you want?” she asks.
She’s been taught it’s a man’s world. What the man wants, he gets, especially in the bedroom. It’s past time for her to learn how a real man treats a woman. So this is her first lesson. “I want to kiss every inch of you,” I whisper, leaning into her neck. “Would you like that?” She gives me a moan. “Say it,” I say, my voice making it sound more like an order than I’d like.
“Kiss me,” she says, her breath ragged.
I take a step back from her, my hands on the bottom of her shirt. Slowly, I lift it, the smooth skin of her flat stomach coming into view. Getting on my knees, I plant a light kiss over her belly button. She lifts the shirt over her head, finishing the job for me, her perfect, full tits before me. She gives me a coy smile at her lack of bra. Suddenly, I can’t wait to find out if she’s without panties as well, slipping my hands under the waistband of her shorts and yanking them down.
She stands naked before me.
“Jesus Christ, you’re beautiful,” I say, falling back on my heels and looking up at her. She’s absolutely perfect. Her body blushes a soft pink. “Turn around.”
“Slade!” she says, using my name as her protest.
Women are funny creatures. I’m about to eat her pussy, but letting me see her naked ass is an issue. “Turn,” I say with a grin, motioning with my finger.
Slowly, she starts to turn, taking the opportunity to step all the way out of her shorts as she does. I grab her hips, holding her still, and gently bite the milky skin of her tight little ass.
“Ooh,” she gasps, looking back over her shoulder at me.
Lightly, I give her booty a little smack. She jumps a little, turning all the way back around. I get to my feet, capturing her in my arms. She steps away from me, and for a second, I think she’s about to slap me. Instead, she reaches for the bottom of my shirt, saying, “You need to catch up.”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. Helping her, I remove my shirt, then toss it aside and pick her up. She laughs, wrapping her legs around me. Her tits press against my chest, and my dick throbs. As I take her down to the bed, she reaches for my cheek. “Only what you need,” I whisper, reminding myself that I need to let her be in charge. “Only what you want.”
Smiling, she says, “A get-to-know-you session.”
“Exactly,” I say, kissing her neck. “I’m going to find every spot that makes you tremble.”
Her body quivers underneath my tongue. I know she wants me to hurry, but I’m going to take my time. Her body is uncharted territory that needs to be claimed. Using one hand, I pin her wrists over her head, kissing along her collarbone. Her back arches up slightly, her nipples hard and begging for me. Looking down at her naked and writhing beneath me, I know j
ust how lucky I am.
Releasing her wrists, I lower my head to suck on her tits, gently pulling her nipple between my teeth.
“Oh!” she groans long and deep.
My planned trip farther south is temporarily halted by her moan. I certainly don’t mind hanging out here for a while. Using my tongue, I circle her nipple, softly at first, working her over—kissing, biting, sucking her until she’s grabbing the bedsheets, begging me to finish her.
She reaches for my hand, pushing it lower. It’s not like I don’t know what she wants, but I’m greedy. I pin her wrists to the bed again. “Slade,” she begs, my name the only weapon she needs.
I’ll give her whatever she wants.
With a growl, I give her clit one little slap, sending her flying over the edge. Her back arches, her legs kick out, and she’s biting her lip so hard to keep from making a sound that I fear she’ll draw blood.
Smoothing her hair, I lightly kiss her lips. Her eyes flutter open. “I didn’t wake Finn that time.”
“I want to hear you,” I say. “We’re going to have to find someone to watch Finn for a night or two.”
She places her finger over my lips. “Now, I want to hear you.”
Grinning, I say, “But it’s still your turn.”
She laughs, rolling over and playfully pinning me to the bed. It doesn’t take much for me to break free, taking hold of her hips. Flat on my back, I look up at her, naked, straddling me. Her brown hair cascades down over her tits as her eyes roam down my body, her hands outlining the muscles of my chest and arms.
Sliding down my body, she slips her finger under the waistband of my pants. My body tightens at the slight touch and the promise of more. I reach for the zipper of my pants, but she beats me to it, tugging at my pants leg. I can’t help but smile. There really is no sexy way to remove a man’s pants while he’s lying down, but Paige looks adorable trying.
Unfortunately, unlike Paige, I do have on underwear. The hint of a smile on her lips lets me know she’s thinking the same thing. Sitting up, I take her in my arms, pulling her onto my lap so her legs are wrapped around me. I can feel her warmth calling me, begging me, and my resolve weakens. “Are you on the pill?”
She shifts slightly and doesn’t answer, slipping her hand over my bulge. She’s not even touching my skin, the fabric of my underwear between us, but my toes curl just the same. Lowering her lips to my neck, she whispers, “Just getting to know you, remember?”
Fuck. I knew that. She’s not ready. Hand jobs, blow jobs, dry humping—all great. But there is something about being buried balls deep in a woman that can’t be explained. Maybe it’s primitive, wanting to spread our seed or something. Maybe it has to do with our desire to be in charge and take control. Whatever the reason, I want to know what it will be like to slip my dick inside her, watch her eyes close, her mouth drop open, and hear her come as I pound into her. It’s not even about my own orgasm. It’s about hers.
If I can’t bury my dick in her, my tongue will have to do. Taking her to her back, I give her one long, slow lick. “Oh God,” she moans.
“Shh,” I say, blowing a little air between her legs, knowing that will only make her more crazy. Her hands fly to my hair. Hoisting her thighs onto my shoulders, I settle in, not wanting to ever leave this spot. “You taste incredible.”
Lots of guys use oral sex as a warm-up. They don’t actually make their women come this way. Whether that’s lack of talent or sheer laziness, they don’t know what they’re missing. I plan on making Paige come like this every day of my fucking life.
One of the most incredible things about a woman is her ability to come multiple times. I can make her orgasm like this, and she’ll still be able to come again through sex. If you give a guy head, and he gets off, he’ll need a little recovery time. Hell, some guys would be out for the count.
“Slade,” she moans, letting me know how good it feels.
Fuck right it does, but there’s an art to this. If you’re too soft, it’s more like a tickle. If you’re too hard, you’ll hurt her. You can’t just focus on her clit either. The lips are just as sensitive. And a little massage of her inner thighs never hurts.
Her muscles start to clench over and over again, a sure sign she’s getting close. All I can think is no. As much as she’s ready to come, I don’t want this to end.
“Please don’t stop doing that,” she begs.
No way I can slow down now. Pushing her thighs open wider, I devour her. If this is going to be over quick, I’m going to get my fill. Her hand flies up, grabbing a pillow and biting down on it, her muffled scream the most satisfying sound on the planet.
I suck down on her, determined to take every last ounce of her pleasure. Her body writhes on the bed, her legs kick out, but I don’t stop until she stops quivering beneath my mouth.
Her body falls limp, her legs collapse open. Using her inner thigh as a pillow, I stay right where I am, planting feather-light kisses around her folds, hoping for another spark.
She looks down at me with a fully satisfied smile on her pink lips. “Don’t make me leave this spot,” I beg in a whisper.
Arching her back in a little stretch, she moans quietly, “Okay.”
And we start all over again.
*
“Just one more,” I plead, knowing she’s tired but wanting to watch her come for me one more time.
She laughs, shaking her head at me and cuddling into my side, a clear sign she’s spent. We basically spent the night trading orgasms. Sex can be a lot of things—romantic, robotic, angry, slow, fast, hard, soft.
Tonight was pure fun.
Even though technically we never had sex, it was still the best night I’ve ever spent in bed with a woman.
“I think I can get used to this eight o’clock bedtime thing,” I say, squeezing her tighter and listening to her drift off to sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
SLADE
I wake up to the smell of bacon. A satisfied Paige equals bacon for breakfast. That’s good to know. Throwing on some sweatpants, I walk downstairs, finding Paige at the stove and Finn on a blanket on the floor. Definitely need to get him a new high chair.
“Morning,” I say, kissing Paige on the cheek, then picking up Finn. “I must’ve done something right if I’m getting bacon for breakfast.”
She flashes me a look over her shoulder. “Several somethings right,” she teases as she walks over and puts two plates down, one for each of us. I don’t want her to think she has to cook for me. “Looks good. Tomorrow, breakfast is on me.”
“I like cooking,” she says, smiling at me.
Adjusting Finn so he can’t reach my plate, I take a bite of toast. It’s just a simple meal of toast, bacon, and eggs, but Paige is a good cook. Paige reaches for her orange juice, and our brief conversation from last night flashes in my head. “You never answered my question last night.”
“What question?” she asks.
“The pill? Are you on it?” No man likes to wear condoms even though I always do, so I’m really hoping I won’t have to with Paige. “I figured with Finn and all, you’d be extra careful.”
“I am,” she says quietly, getting up from her chair even though she’s barely had two bites.
For some reason unknown to me, I’ve struck a chord with her. I know birth control can be a tricky topic sometimes, but this is more than that.
“I should get Finn his applesauce,” she says.
“He’s fine,” I say. “You’ve never told me much of anything about his birth or your pregnancy. How you found out?”
“Slade.” She says my name like a warning, like I’m about to step on a landmine.
“I thought most women like to talk about that stuff. God knows, Catrine has told me about everything from her hemorrhoids to accidentally peeing on herself.”
She sits back down, taking Finn from me. “He was actually born almost three weeks early.”
“Catrine says first babies are usually late,”
I say.
“Not Finn,” she says.
“Were you scared? Alone?” I ask, more than curious about his father since Paige hasn’t uttered one word about him.
“Finn was a home birth,” she says.
“You didn’t go to the fucking hospital?” I bark, not meaning to sound as pissed as I am. She or Finn could’ve needed a doctor.
Her head shakes. “No hospital.”
“Anyone with you?” I ask, my fishing expedition in full force.
“My mom,” she says, looking down at her hands.
“I thought you said . . .”
“Slade,” she says, getting to her feet. “Please don’t make me lie to you.”
*
Asking Paige a question should not back her into a corner so far that she feels like she has to lie to me.
I’m in a tough spot here. I know if I push, I run the risk of losing her. But I’m not a pushover, and I hate the idea of her keeping things from me. I told her things that I’ve never told anyone. Shouldn’t she want to do the same? I want her to trust me enough to be able to tell me anything. I know trust is earned and takes time, and things between us have moved quickly, but my gut tells me something else is going on with her.
She comes downstairs dressed and ready to go to the ranch. I’m supposed to be staying in the city, going to my office. This is supposed to be our mutual introduction to our new schedule, but we need to get a few things straight first.
Without so much as a glance my way, she starts to buckle Finn in his car seat. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Paige!” Her name comes out harsh. “I’m not asking you to name his father. Even though I wish you’d trust me enough to tell me.”
“Why do you think you have the right to know anything about Finn or me?” she snaps back.
They say some people wear their heart on their sleeve. Well, Paige wears hers on her sleeve under a coat of armor, some barbed wire, and a few explosive devices. Clearly, I’ve stepped on one of her trip wires. The thing is, I don’t always see them or know where they are. Paige is not an easy woman to figure out. With her upbringing, I know she’s kept herself guarded. I get it. But I want her to understand that she doesn’t need to be that way with me.
The Right Side of Wrong Page 16