The Sex Bucket List

by Lane, Prescott

  “You don’t ever have to apologize to me for being a hard worker or a mom. I happen to love those things about you.”

  He said the word love. I’m such a girl. He didn’t say he loved me, but hearing him say it in any connotation peaks the teenage girl inside me.

  He sits beside me and slips an arm around my shoulders, helping me relax back into his hard chest. “Soon,” he says.

  “I promise. The kids get out of school in a few days, and then Ryan’s taking them on vacation. And I’ll have some time.”

  He doesn’t say anything, but he squeezes me a little tighter, just holding me like he did at the hospital yesterday. This should’ve been on my list. Just have a man hold you without expectations. Usually a man only cuddles to try to get in your pants or after he’s already gotten in them. This is nice. There seems to be no ulterior motives, and if there are, he’s hiding them well.

  Fortunately for him, I’ve got some motives of my own. I slide away from him, walking towards the door.

  “You leaving?” he asks.

  I lock the door then turn back towards him. And God, the smile on his face almost kills me. I love this side of him, playful and cute. He gets to his feet, cups my cheeks, and tilts his head, his eyes roaming over my face and hair, admiring me, but it’s me that drops to my knees. Unbuckling his belt, I look up at him, and he caresses my hair. I can’t believe I’m fooling around at work again. It seems like the corporate office is becoming my personal sex parlor.

  I slide down his pants and run my hands up his thighs to his tight ass, his body tightening under my fingertips, then I slip his boxer briefs down. As a general rule, I don’t think the penis is a particularly pretty body part. Don’t get me wrong, I like dick as much as the next girl, but I’m not going to get all poetic about the way it looks. Mateo’s dick, however, is an entirely different subject.

  He gives my hair a little yank, and I expect him to guide my mouth to his dick, but he doesn’t. I glance up at him and pull my bottom lip between my teeth, giving him a naughty smile. Then I grip his ass and take him deep into my mouth. The groan he releases shoots a power through me. He may have tried to muffle it, but anyone passing outside the door definitely heard. It’s been years since I did this, but it’s coming back to me. Ryan never finished this way. It always gave me a huge complex, like I’m a blowjob failure.

  Holding his ass, I encourage him to move. He starts slowly, like I knew he would. “Mmm,” I moan, letting him know I’m enjoying this almost as much as he is. I love feeling him come undone at my doing. I slide my hand to his dick, and I start to move faster. He pulls my hair up, holding it like a ponytail, so he can watch.

  “I’m so fucking close,” he says.

  So I go harder and faster. And then it occurs to me: swallow or not? Like I said, Ryan never finished this way, so it was never an issue. A hint of saltiness hits my tongue. There’s no time for decisions. I can’t have a mess in my office. Okay, I got this.

  “Fuck!” he groans.

  Okay, I might not have this. Poppy told me in one of her sex rants that the average man only releases about a teaspoon of semen, but I beg to differ. Whoever did that study had not met Mateo. Still, it doesn’t taste as bad as I thought, though I’m not going to start craving it like carbs.

  I look up at Mateo, finding him content and relaxed, and a certain pride hits me. I’m a blowjob failure no more! And I can mark unselfish sex off my list. I lift up his boxer briefs and pants, then he falls to his knees, joining me on the floor, pulling me to him, cradling my head to his chest. “That was unexpected,” he pants out.

  “It was on the list,” I say, playing it cool. “But I can’t remember which number because you stole it.”

  “I told you I own that list,” he says, chuckling. “And there was nothing about you on your knees. I would definitely have remembered that.”

  “How am I supposed to keep track? What if you lose it? Or it falls into the wrong hands?”

  “Don’t worry,” he teases. “It’s in a safe place.”

  * * *

  With my newfound energy, I push through the rest of the day and visit Poppy and Dash. I take her a little snack package—power bars, tiny bottles of wine, caramel popcorn. You know, the essential girl’s comfort food pack. She thanks me over and over again for the stuff. I let them know that the company will continue paying her salary in addition to Dash’s salary while she takes care of him. They’re both extremely grateful, but it’s so unnecessary. He was hurt on the job. It’s the least we can do.

  I head over to Gage and Layla’s penthouse and barely make it there in time to talk to my mom. I wasn’t sure what to expect from the conversation, but found myself surprised at my mom’s openness to selling the company. She’d watched my dad build Southern Wings from one small aircraft with one route, to a full-fledge commuter airline. Then she watched Gage turn it into something my dad only dreamed of, a major player in the industry, serving parts far and wide.

  My brother’s done such a good job with the company that I suppose it makes sense she left the decision in his hands with her full blessing. I’m frankly not sure what he’ll do. Part of me thinks this is just a reaction to what happened with Dash, but Gage doesn’t usually act on emotion unless Layla or Greer are involved.

  Staying at my brother’s place tonight, I call the kids to say goodnight, catch up on their days, and give them an update on Dash. According to Poppy, he’s milking his injury for all it’s worth; he apparently claims he won’t be able to do any chores around the house for like three months. The kids get a good laugh out of that.

  After hanging up, I lay down in bed. Usually this is the time when I replay the day in my head, all the things I didn’t get done, could’ve done better. Worry is my bedmate. But Mateo’s hard body, and replaying what we did in my office earlier, is filling my mind right now. Grabbing my cell, I see a text from the man himself, and my heart does a little leap.

  Mateo: Checked the list, twice!

  Me: Are you Santa?

  I hit send before I realize he may not get the reference to the Christmas song. After all, Mateo doesn’t have kids. He may not have heard that song in decades.

  Mateo: I definitely know who’s been naughty and nice!

  Me: Which do you prefer? Naughty or nice?

  This is so much better than worrying myself to sleep. Some people call it sexting, but I think textual relations has a nice ring to it. Either way, it’s good for the soul.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  REVERSE COWGIRL

  Ryan is bringing the car over any second. I’m doing my best mom impression not to spoil the surprise. All three kids are sitting at the kitchen island, sandwiches in front of them. Sandwiches say nothing special is happening today. Connor hasn’t touched his. I only have to say his name for a few tears to roll down his cheeks. To my surprise, it’s Jacob who reaches over and pats his back.

  “What’s going on?” I ask. All three of them stare down at their plates. “I promise you guys Dash is fine.”

  “It’s not that,” Ava says then nudges Connor a little. “Tell her.”

  He looks up at me with those big blue eyes of his, filled with tears. “I don’t want to go on vacation with Daddy next week.”

  Shooting glances at Ava and Jacob, I ask, “Why not? You love the beach.”

  “It’s too far away,” Connor says, the tears coming faster.

  Again, it’s Jacob who places an arm around him. “It’s the same amount of time you usually spend with your dad.”

  “It’s too far,” Connor cries. “I Googled it. It’s almost an hour from here. And if you’re at work in Atlanta, it’s super far.”

  “Connor,” I say gently, “you’re used to me going to Atlanta for work. It’s never bothered you before.”

  “That’s when I’m here. This is different. What if I need you?”

  “Did you forget your Uncle G owns an airline? I’ll hop on a plane.”

  “No, you won’t,” he cries.
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  “Connor, of course I would.”

  “Maybe for something big,” he says. “But not if I just scrape my knee or want to show you something cool.”

  I reach for his hand as Jacob still holds him. “You’re right. Not for those things. But you can FaceTime me and show me.”

  “It’s not the same,” he says.

  “I know,” I say, and divorce guilt settles hard and heavy on my chest. I fucking hate this for my kids, especially Connor. He barely remembers his dad and me together, and probably doesn’t ever remember us being happy.

  “You can show me,” Jacob says.

  I nearly fall down in shock—that my teenage son is comforting his little brother, that his voice is so deep, that he didn’t just grunt and actually completed a sentence.

  “You hate playing with me,” Connor says.

  Jacob shrugs. “Only on vacation.”

  “Really?”

  Jacob answers by fist bumping his brother. That’s as good as a signed contract.

  “And I’ll fix any skinned knees,” Ava says. “I know just how Mom does it.”

  I nearly fall down in shock again. I love these rare occasions when the kids support each other, when we’re all pulling in the same direction. But at the same time, I feel a sense of sadness, that they have to make do without me around. It’s unfair to them. I turn away and walk out of the kitchen before completely losing it. Will this ever get easier?

  The doorbell rings. It’s time to put on a happy face, but Ryan knows me too well. I open the door, and he greets me with a question.

  “What’s going on?” he asks and opens his arms.

  I take a step back. “Talk later,” I say, wiping my face. I peek out the front window and see a huge bow on the top of the car like you see in the commercials. “Kids!” I call out. “Come here for a second.”

  Jacob and Connor are the first to appear. Jacob’s hand is on his little brother’s shoulder. Ryan glances at me, seeing Connor’s little red eyes, and I just shake my head. “Daddy, what are you doing here?” Connor asks.

  “It’s a surprise,” he says, bending down a little. “You okay, buddy?”

  “Can Mommy come on vacation with us?” Connor asks. “Like a real family.”

  Ryan winces a little. I’ve only seen that look in his eye one other time. The other time I watched his heart break. “Mommy has to work, buddy.”

  “Uncle G would let her off,” Connor says, his little voice gaining hope with each word. “I know he would.”

  Ava walks in, fiddling on her phone, giving her dad a distracted hello. She’s going to regret that in a minute. “Let’s talk about it later,” Ryan says to Connor then gets to his feet. “Ava, I forgot something in the car. Could you go get it for me?”

  Still looking at her phone, Ava opens up the front door. Jacob sees it first, but we motion for him to stay quiet. When Ava reaches the front steps, she’s forced to look up, and then she screeches so loudly. Ryan jiggles the keys in front of her. She quickly grabs them and races towards the car, doing a 360-degree sprint around it before running back into her dad’s arms, thanking him over and over again.

  “Your mom, too,” Ryan says, which is sweet because it was all him.

  “I want to sit in the front seat,” Connor says.

  Ava gives me a huge hug then motions for her brothers to follow her, and they all crawl into the car. She starts the engine, and we hear the radio turned up, and the windows start going up and down. She can’t drive off because the bow is in her way, but it doesn’t matter. They’re all having a good time checking out the features.

  I’m not sure why, but Ryan drapes his arm over my shoulder. I reach up and squeeze his hand a little then step away. “Want to tell me what I walked in on this morning?” he asks.

  “Connor doesn’t want to go to the beach. He doesn’t want to be so far away from me.”

  “We talked about it for months. He was so excited.”

  “I guess now that it’s so close, he’s nervous.” Ryan releases a deep breath looking back at our three kids, all happy, all getting along, such a rare moment to experience. “I should be taking some pictures,” I say, turning to go get my phone.

  “You could come with us,” Ryan says quietly.

  “Huh?” I say and whip around so fast, pain shoots through my neck.

  “It’s not unheard of for divorced couples to travel together. It’s on those reality shows Ava makes me watch all the time.”

  “I can’t,” I say.

  “Why?” He steps a little closer. “It might be good for us.”

  “Us ended when you left,” I snap.

  He barks back, “It actually ended when you kissed . . .”

  “Can I take it for a drive?” Ava calls out to Ryan and me, as Jacob is pulling the bow off.

  “Sure, honey,” Ryan says.

  “But remember, Ava,” I say, “you can only drive one of your brothers at a time.”

  Jacob lets Connor go first and plops down by the sidewalk, waiting his turn. I love how the kids are cooperating today, but Ryan has me some kind of pissed off right now. Why can’t everything ever be good at the same time? I turn to go inside, and Ryan follows me into the foyer, grabbing my elbow.

  “Emerson, I’m sorry.”

  “Go fuck yourself, Ryan,” I say. “I don’t need you to forgive me anymore. For a long time, I waited for that, hoped for it. But you know what? I finally forgave myself, so I don’t give a damn if you do or not. I may have made the mistake, but I was ready to fight for us. You never were. I would’ve never given up, but you did.”

  “What if I’m ready to fight now?” he asks.

  “Too late. I’m seeing someone,” I bark, hating that the words came out like a weapon.

  “Oh.” He pushes on his eyes a little. “Is it serious?”

  “It could be.”

  “Do the kids know?”

  “I’ll let you know when that happens.” Notice I said when instead of if? I’m hoping Ryan caught that.

  “Who is he?”

  “None of your business.”

  His eyes bore into me. “My kids, my business.”

  “Don’t be childish.”

  “Who is it?” he demands.

  A quick pro-con list goes through my head—all the reasons to tell him the truth, all the reasons to lie. Maybe the best route is to dodge. Or maybe I’ll just say nothing. I don’t like Ryan’s tone; he doesn’t deserve an answer from me. We glare at each other for a moment before I see a shift in his eyes.

  “The Italian food,” he says like he just found a clue.

  I don’t respond, except to fold my arms. Ever the professor, he thinks he’s such a smart guy, a true detective. I see more wheels turning in his head.

  “The phone call after the food was delivered,” he says.

  He’s getting warm. He’ll put it together soon. Who gives a fuck?

  “Mateo!” he cries, so proud that he figured it out, then rattles off five minutes of reasons why the man’s no good for me, everything from his age to his occupation. “You can’t be this stupid. The man is a glorified security guard.”

  “He is not,” I cry out. “Besides, I don’t care what he does for a living.”

  “Please, he’s just using you for your money.”

  All the air leaves my chest. He might as well have slapped me across the face. It would’ve been quicker and less painful. I guess the only way Ryan thinks a younger, hot man would be interested in me is for money. Fuck him!

  “It’s my family’s money, not mine. You know that.”

  Ryan rolls his eyes. “Please. You stand to inherit a shitload. You don’t think Mateo knows that?”

  I will not let Ryan make me second-guess things. I’ve known Mateo for two years. I know who he is—the kind of man he is. Ryan’s just playing head games with me. Well, I can play right back. “I guess you know that, too, then,” I bite back. “Maybe that’s why you slept with me. Maybe living a couple years without my fa
mily’s money has made you second-guess things.”

  “I can’t believe you’d say something like that to me,” he shouts.

  “Well, I can’t believe you’d think the only way Mateo is interested in me is for money.”

  “Oh, I forgot,” he barks. “He’s helping you with that list of yours!”

  My hand whips across the side of his face. I’ve never hit anyone before in my life, and I’m not sure I did it right, because my palm is stinging like a bitch. Ryan’s hand flies to his cheek, which is bright red.

  Connor comes running inside. Ryan and I spring into action and fake that things are fine. He turns away the red side of his face and scoops up our son. “Guess what, buddy?” he says. “Mommy’s coming on vacation with us.”

  He did not just do that!

  “That’s the best thing ever!” Connor screams.

  “I know,” Ryan says, grinning from ear to ear.

  Connor jumps down and wraps his little arms around me, kissing and thanking me then taking off upstairs to his bedroom.

  “How’s that for fighting for you?” Ryan says before walking out the door and slamming it behind him.

  * * *

  What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? Yes, that completely deserves three WTFs. We have never, ever used the kids against each other. How dare he do that! My mind starts racing. If I don’t go on vacation, what will I tell Connor? If I do go, what will I tell Mateo? Better question—where will I sleep? Oh, what am I thinking? Come hell or high water, I’m not going on vacation with that man.

  I just don’t know how to get out of it. I’ve got to figure something out. I debate calling Layla or Poppy, but they have their hands full with other issues, like a baby and an injured boyfriend. And I don’t want to dump on them. I feel like I’ve been so full of drama lately. I need to get things under control. Time to woman-up and make the call I’ve avoided all day. As soon as I hear Mateo’s voice, I launch into what happened.

  “So he wants you back?” Mateo asks.

  “He left me.”

  “Not what I asked. Is he still in love with you?”