The Sex Bucket List

by Lane, Prescott

  “No, it’s not unheard of,” I say, my voice giving away my and Ryan’s little sexcapade.

  “You slept with him?” he snaps.

  “It was before you and I . . .”

  “When?” he barks.

  “None of your damn business,” I bite back.

  Mateo leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. The man puts up with a lot of shit to be with me. I’m not doing a very good job of showing how much I appreciate it. I reach out to him, my fingers playing with his shirt. “Look, I’m exhausted and stressed and being a bitch.”

  “Hey,” he says, uncrossing his arms and pulling me closer. “Think I might be the bitch here.” I laugh out loud for the first time all day. The grin he gives me is unforgettable.

  He rests his chin on top of my head, holding me close, playing with my hair. His muscles tight, his heart loud, I can feel a struggle in him to fully understand. I give him a little squeeze, feeling him take a deep breath.

  “Okay, tell me what you need,” he says. “I can stay, even if I never see you, even if you only sneak out for a goodnight kiss. If you feel like you need me close, I’ll stay. Or if you want me to go, I’ll do that, too.”

  As much as I want him to stay, I need to focus on my daughter for a few days. And I don’t want to feel torn between her and Mateo. Plus, I don’t want Ryan starting any bullshit with Mateo around. “Go back to Atlanta, but call me,” I say then kiss him sweetly. “Call me a lot.”

  “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”

  “Try not to worry,” I say and give his hand a little squeeze. “Plan on coming to Savannah next weekend.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  QUICKIE QUEEN

  I’m thrilled the doctor releases Ava the next morning, but spending the rest of the week with Ryan is not so thrilling. I try to focus on Ava and the boys, but Connor makes that impossible almost every second of each day.

  He’s constantly saying: “Look, Mommy, isn’t Daddy so funny?” or “Look, Daddy, doesn’t Mommy look pretty?” And if he’s not saying those things, he’s trying to get us to sit by each other or touch each other. It’s tiresome. Thank God, tomorrow we’re all heading back home.

  I knew staying with Ryan and the kids was going to be difficult, but I didn’t think how difficult it would be for Connor, who seems to think this is his chance to have his nuclear family intact and create some memories of his dad and me together, even if it’s forced.

  The thing is, it’s not completely forced. It’s always been easy for Ryan and me to fall into our parenting roles. And Ryan’s always been a good dad. There’s something inherently sexy about a good dad.

  At times during the week, like over a family dinner or when we were all laughing while watching a movie together on the pullout sofa, things felt like they used to—maybe too much like they used to. I’m sure that’s what Mateo was worried about, the inherent danger in those moments. But I didn’t find them dangerous at all, but rather so very revealing, eye opening. It’s what my marriage was for years—me pretending one thing while feeling something else.

  I step out onto the beach, needing some air. I can see the condo from here, see the kids all playing a board game together inside. I didn’t think kids did that anymore. The beach is always good for simple fun. Ava learned to hopscotch and hula hoop at the beach. At home, it seems we’re always too busy for simple fun, all consumed by school, activities, blaring electronics. It’s a pleasure to see them all playing together instead of ripping each other to shreds for a change.

  Clearly, this week of family time was good for the kids. I want them to have happy memories of Ryan and me, even if we aren’t married. They should see us happy and getting along. And it was fun to ride bikes, spend the day doing the lazy river and water slides. It’s never a happy time when I have to put on a swimsuit, and wearing one in front of your ex-husband is even more unnerving, especially when I’m pretty sure I caught him staring at me a time or two. There were women half my age and twice my cup size—why wasn’t he staring at them?

  My cell phone rings, as I knew it would. Mateo calls at this time every night, which is another reason for my walk on the beach. And I’ve decided the list is useless. All I really need is him naked. Of course, I won’t object to handcuffs, blindfolds, nipple clamps or . . . Okay, so basically, I won’t object.

  I answer to him saying how much he misses me, to which I sappily agree. It’s completely mushy and something I’d roll my eyes at if Ava were talking like this to her boyfriend. We fill each other in on our days. He always asks how Ava is feeling and about the boys. And I avoid the subject of Ryan as much as possible.

  “You sound so far away,” I say.

  “Sorry,” he says, “long day at work.”

  “What’s going on?”

  He starts telling me about the work he’s been doing on the sale of the airline, that he’s pretty sure Gage is going to go through with it, the details of some of the negotiations. But I completely zone out. The only thing I can think about is how this will affect me. More specifically, how it will affect my and Mateo’s relationship. I don’t want to be one of those people that makes everything about them, but I can’t help it.

  The thoughts in my head are going record pace and are so loud that I don’t notice when he stops talking. “Emerson,” he says softly, knowing I’m unsettled.

  “I’m here,” I say, looking out onto the black night sky, the dark ocean waves crashing. “I’m listening.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You know I’ll wait for you to be ready to tell me whatever’s bothering you, even if I have to sit on the phone with you all night.”

  I giggle a little then draw a deep breath. “If we keep seeing each other,” I say then start over, not liking the “if” word. “I know I’m getting ahead of myself. You know I have a tendency to think too much.”

  “Spit it out,” he teases.

  “I’m never going to be able to move to Atlanta. That won’t ever be an option. The kids’ schools are here. Ryan would never allow it. Not to mention, my house is the only home they’ve ever known.”

  “What are you worried about?”

  “That the airline will sell. I won’t be working there anymore, so I won’t be coming into Atlanta. You may or may not be working there. It’s hard enough to make time to see each other now, what will we do . . .” I stop myself, hoping he doesn’t think I’m a crazy person. Maybe I shouldn’t be thinking so long term?

  “If the sale of the airline goes through,” he says, “that will change things for me.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I talked to my old security firm.”

  “They’re based in Atlanta, right?”

  “Yes.” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “I talked to them about me being based out of Savannah.”

  My mouth falls open then turns into a huge smile. “You’d move for me?”

  “For you and for the kids,” he says.

  My heart feels like it’s about to burst. “You just made me miss you that much more.”

  * * *

  It feels so good to be back from Hilton Head. The forty-five minute drive to Savannah felt like forever. Even all the space in the Suburban Ryan rented after Ava wrecked his car wasn’t enough. The time never seemed to move.

  The same thing is happening now. Like a schoolgirl, I look down at my watch for the thousandth time this morning. Still two hours until Mateo’s supposed to be here. I haven’t seen him in forever, and I’ve got everything lined up for the day. We’ll spend a few hours here with the kids, then my mom is coming over to watch Connor so Mateo and I can go out. Ava and Jacob are capable of watching him for short periods of time, but I don’t want to have to rush. Perfect plan!

  Not wanting to hit the kids over the head with Mateo the second we got home, I decided to give them a day to unwind. It was torture for me, but they come first. Besides, I thought it might go better if they were well res
ted and not cranky from the trip.

  I’ve got some stuff for work I can catch up on. I did a little work from the beach, but there’s always more to do. Reaching for my glasses, my hand hits the nightstand. Where are they? I hope I didn’t leave them at the beach. I really should get a second pair.

  Two paragraphs into the latest advertising statistics, the doorbell rings. I leap to my feet. I’m happy to answer the door myself for once. I find Mateo standing before me, looking sexier than ever in a t-shirt and shorts.

  He briefly glances over my shoulder then takes my hand, yanking me outside and closing the door behind me. He pins me to the door and kisses me. The last time someone kissed me like this on a front porch, I must’ve been a teenage girl.

  The kiss starts hard and fast, but soon falls into slow, tender strokes of his tongue, his mouth moving over mine softly. It ends with a few gentle pecks to my lips, and then his hands cup the sides of my face. “All this time apart is killing me.”

  “Me, too,” I say. “I’m glad you came early. You must’ve left at the crack of dawn.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal, but it feels like a big deal to me. I appreciate it. I love how eager he is to see me. But the look in his eyes indicates he’s eager for something else, too. I love that even more. “Little time with the kids, then just me and you,” I say, giving him a flirty smile.

  The door opens. “Mommy, I’m hungry,” Connor says before his eyes land on Mateo. “Never mind.”

  “Connor!” I cry out and reach for him, but he’s already back inside.

  Mateo grabs my hand. “Don’t force him. I can wait him out.”

  Nodding in agreement, we walk inside. “Hi, Mateo,” Ava says, skipping down the stairs. She’s unusually happy this morning. She plants a kiss on my cheek, grinning.

  “Okay, who’s the boy?” I ask.

  “There’s no boy,” she says, giggling. “You always tell me my happiness shouldn’t depend on boys.”

  “Okay,” I say, kissing the side of her head, then see Mateo smiling like a damn fool, apparently finding my children amusing.

  “There is, however, a music festival,” she says.

  “Ava.”

  “Please, Mom,” she says. “A couple of my friends are going. You camp out. It sounds like so much fun.”

  “Bonnaroo?” Mateo asks.

  “Yeah, how’d you know?” Ava asks.

  My eyes dart to Mateo. “You’ve heard of this?”

  He nods, pulling out his phone and starting to type. Turning back to my daughter, I say, “Ava, there’s so many drugs and drinking at these things. You’re a little too young. Maybe in college.”

  “Mom, please.”

  “Any parents going?” I ask.

  “No, but my friend’s older sister is going with some of her friends. She’s in college.”

  “Boys going?”

  “Not with us. Please! It will be so much fun to take a road trip. Just with my girlfriends.”

  “How many?” Mateo asks, still looking down at his phone.

  “Six, I think,” Ava says. “Why?”

  But he doesn’t answer. Ava spends the next few minutes pleading her case. She should consider being an attorney. As she’s winding down her closing argument, something about the unfairness of her life and how this trip would make everything better, I see that Mateo continues to be consumed by his phone. I don’t expect him to help parent my kids, but it’s unlike him to be so detached. “Mateo?” I say, waving my hand a little.

  “The guy who owns the company who does security for a lot of these festivals is a buddy of mine,” Mateo says. “I was checking with him to see if they’ve had any threats.”

  “Oh my God,” Ava screeches. “I don’t need another dad! I have one!”

  “Ava! You apologize to Mateo, right now.”

  “I will not!”

  “Young lady . . .”

  Mateo rubs my shoulders and says to Ava, “I was only trying to help. He said security is in place. He even offered to keep an eye on you girls if your mom lets you go, and upgrade your tickets so you’d have air-conditioned bathrooms, a place to shower. It’s not my place to say if you can go or not. That’s up to your mom. I was just trying to make her more comfortable if she decided to let you.”

  Ava is speechless other than to say, “Oh.” She quickly looks down, and her eyes well up.

  “I guess you’re sorry now,” I snap, which causes the tears to well over.

  “Why’s she crying now?” Jacob says, coming down the stairs. “She cries all the time.”

  “Shut up, Jacob!” Ava barks. “I do not.”

  No wonder Poppy doesn’t want children. They are exhausting. But Mateo doesn’t seem to mind, giving me a little wink. “Come on, Jacob,” Mateo says. “Let’s go watch TV. Give the girls some time.”

  “I want to watch TV,” I say in our code, and he flashes me a smile. “I promise to watch something with you later.”

  * * *

  Let me tell you, dating with kids is not for the weak. No decision was made about the festival, but Ava had a long cry. We didn’t really talk, unless you count her tears as a language, in which case she’s fluent. She didn’t want to hang around, and I wasn’t going to force her. Before she left, she gave me a big hug then walked into the living room and apologized to Mateo. I stood back watching, giving them some space. There was no hug, not that I thought there would be, but maybe one day.

  Jacob and Mateo seem settled. I couldn’t join them if I wanted to, both of them in a full man spread on the sofa. You know, the way men sit with their legs spread apart to give room for their balls. That leaves no room for me, so I go to find my little man. Connor is glued to the computer again. He doesn’t even speak to me. He was such a happy little guy last week trying to corral Ryan and me back together. It’s like night and day.

  “Hey, Mom,” Jacob calls out, “Mateo and I are going for a run.” I nearly fall over that my lazy teenage son is volunteering for physical exercise. “He said he’ll help get me in shape.”

  Jacob bounds up the stairs to change, and I look at Mateo, who apparently is a magician. It should be Magic Mateo instead of Magic Mike. Hmm, he definitely has the moves for that movie. “What did you do to my son?”

  “I don’t know,” he chuckles. “We were just talking about guns and . . .”

  “Guns?”

  “Well, my work. He was asking what I do exactly, and what I used to do. Then he just sort of asked if I’d train him. He says he wants to get into shape.” Mateo winks at me. “I think there’s a girl involved.”

  “A real life girl? Not a porn star?”

  He cracks up laughing as Jacob comes running down the stairs. Mateo pats his back, and they head out the door. Smiling, I wonder how Jacob went from playing with super heroes to admiring super models. Pretty soon, Connor will be the same. It goes by too fast.

  Jacob hasn’t worked out in forever, and the Savannah sun is high in the sky today. I can’t imagine they will be running very long or very far, so I retreat to the kitchen to make some sweet tea and sandwiches. I try again to coax Connor, to no avail. Reminding myself this is all still new, I refuse to let his behavior get me down.

  When Mateo and Jacob return, they are both soaked in sweat. On Jacob, it looks and smells disgusting. Pinching my nose, I order Jacob upstairs to shower. On Mateo, on the other hand, it looks sexy and rugged.

  “Want to use my shower?” I ask Mateo.

  “I don’t have anything clean to put on,” he says, raising an eyebrow at me.

  Taking his hand, I pull him towards my room. “I’ll wash your stuff.”

  “What will I wear in the meantime?” he asks, locking my bedroom door.

  Giggling, I reach into my closet and throw my fluffy baby blue bathrobe at him. He catches it then lifts his shirt over his head, the edges of his muscles dripping with sweat and making me moan a little. “Shorts, too,” I say, motioning with my hands, and in one swoop, he steps out of his shorts and boxer briefs.
He’s hard as a rock. The thing is like a beacon pointing right at me. “Uh, I’ll just . . .”

  I can’t finish the sentence because my mouth is suddenly dry. I need to get out of here before I fuck him with my kids at home. Quickly, I walk past him, retrieving his clothes, and head to put them in the laundry. Thank goodness that I have a speed wash and dry cycle. I don’t think I could stand knowing the man is hard without underwear on in my house for any real length of time. If it wasn’t for the kids, I know I’d be mounted on top of him right now.

  Then it hits me. I’ve had sex plenty of times with the kids at home. Granted, it was with their father, and I was married—though I wasn’t the last time. Truth be told, I’ve never been good at quickies. It seems to me quickies were designed for the guy. Sure, my vibrator can get me off in under two minutes, but I’ve never been successful with a man under pressure.

  Tiptoeing to the bottom of the staircase, I listen. The shower is still running upstairs. Maybe it’s time to try again. After all, with Ava gone, only two kids are home now—and Jacob’s showering, and Connor’s frozen in front of the computer. I’m going to go for it.

  Sneaking back into my bedroom, I lock the door behind me then hear the shower turn off. This is even better! I don’t want to get wet. That would be too obvious. Shower sex will have to wait. He steps out of my bathroom, his back to me as he’s drying off. God, the man’s ass is a work of art, his muscles flexing as he moves.

  “Two minutes,” I say. He turns around as I yank down my shorts. “We’ve got two minutes.”

  If the man were a swimmer, he’d have an incredible start time. In like a hundredth of a second, he’s got me pinned to the bedroom wall. Hiking my leg up to his hip, he pushes into me. God, it’s been way too long. He yanks my hair, granting him access to my neck. How he manages to kiss me so gently while fucking me so hard, I’ll never know. I suspect he’s probably one of those people that can rub their belly and pat their head at the same time.

  He withdraws until he’s almost out of me, then thrusts hard. Withdraw and thrust, withdraw and thrust. Over and over again. I’m never sure how far he’ll go, how hard, how deep. It’s driving me crazy, and he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. How close I am. And he’s loving it.