by Nikki Ash
Indigo eyes widen. “You want to…” He trails off as if he’s afraid to finish that question.
“Yes.” I nod. Desperately.
He still doesn’t move so I lift my shirt over my head. Nerves make my fingers clumsy and I’m certain he can see my entire body shaking.
His fiery gaze rakes over me, heating my insides, but he’s still frozen.
I drop my shirt on the closest leather chair. “It can’t be any worse than the bathroom we had sex in last time.”
He winces and the bubble of attraction we were living in for a few seconds pops.
“Oh, come on, I was teasing,” I say and walk to him. “That night was amazing. I’m not some fragile thing now just because I had a kid.”
“I know.” His tone sounds like he’s convincing himself as much as me.
“Did I misread this? Do you not want to…” Now it’s my turn to trail off without finishing a question. Oh crap, maybe I’m reading desire for and interest in me when it’s just our daughter he wants. Which, of course, is fine, but I’d rather not be standing here in my bra if that’s the case.
“No, of course not. I’m stoked to have found you again and I want…” He motions to my naked upper body. “All that you’re working with. Seriously, wow, my memory did not do you justice,” he says, staring at my cleavage spilling out over the top of my bra. He doesn’t remember because pregnancy increased their size by a full cup that never went away.
“But–” he starts.
I clap a hand over his lips. “Does that but include anything that would make our having sex tonight illegal, dangerous, or otherwise harmful in some way?”
He shakes his head slowly. I feel his lips pull up into a smile under my palm.
“Then I don’t care. For the next thirty minutes or even an hour, however much time we have until Indie wakes up, I want to pretend I found that really awesome guy I met at a frat party and we’re having a fun and crazy night like two normal college kids.”
He leans down to take my mouth as his strong arms pick me up. John walks us toward the back row of leather chairs. Pulling his lips away from mine, he kisses my nose and then asks, “You’re sure?”
I nod.
“And you’re not going to disappear on me this time?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I promise as his mouth crashes back down on me.
We fall back onto the chair. John can’t really lie down because he’s so tall, until he raises the arm rest between two chairs. I spread out along both and he angles his body to cover me. He grins down at me. Placing kisses along my collarbone, he cups me over my bra. He takes his time dropping hungry kisses all over my heated skin.
One arm goes around my waist and his hand reaches up to unfasten my bra. I’m all too happy to help. I need more of his mouth and I need it immediately.
“Damn, Ry,” he murmurs against my skin. His hands stay on my boobs, but his mouth travels south, licking and nipping my stomach.
I’m lost in sensation, enjoying the way he adores my body. One of his hands finds mine and intertwines our fingers, then lifts it over my head. It’s only when I can’t touch him that I realize how much I want to. It’s been so long. Each caress, each response is magnified. Or maybe that’s just being with John.
With my free hand, I reach under his shirt. His skin is warm, muscles corded and defined. John shifts so the bulge in his jeans brushes against my sensitive pussy. Even through my jeans, the jolt of pleasure it brings makes me call out, “John.”
I drop my hand to undo his pants. With a little help, I manage to get his dick free. I stroke him as he pumps into my hand.
Abruptly, he stands. He pulls his shirt over his head and then works on removing his jeans and boxers completely, all while staring down at me with such desire that it makes my heart pound in my chest. He takes the baby monitor from his back pocket and sets it upright on the floor and then pulls a condom from his wallet and tosses it on the chair. I bite back a giggle. He’d done the exact same thing last time. Taken the condom out and then tossed it beside me on the bathroom vanity.
I’ve replayed that scene over in my head so many times. At first, I wanted to slap myself for being so impulsive. Why couldn’t I have just given him a blowjob or let him feel me up? But after Indie was born, I stopped placing blame. I’d been given a gift. The way it impacted my life didn’t always feel like one, but my daughter was the absolute light of my life.
I don’t feel any of that hesitation now. In fact, I’m basically floating as he undresses me.
His cock twitches and leaks as I roll the latex over him. For a moment it’s just us, naked, taking each other in and then it’s as if someone fired the start gun. John pulls me onto his lap and carefully I sink down on top of him.
“Wow.” It’s not the most poetic sentence to come out of my mouth, but it perfectly sums up every thought in my head.
“Right?” John asks with a chuckle. “Two seconds inside of you and I don’t know my own name. Fuck you feel so good.”
I start to shift, and he grabs my waist. “Wait.”
His sexy smile pulls into a wide grin. “As soon as you move, I’m not going to be able to take it slow and I want to revel in this for just a moment longer.”
He stares into my eyes. He brings a big palm up to my cheek and I lean into his touch.
“This may be a weird time to mention this. You know, since my cock is buried inside of you and all, but, uh, I’m really looking forward to spending more time with you.”
“Same.” I rest my arms on his shoulders. “But there’s a little girl upstairs that has a habit of waking up an hour after bedtime, so let’s chat about that later.”
He grins.
“Can I move now? Technically we’re having sex, but I was so looking forward to being manhandled.”
“Manhandled, huh?” His grip on my waist tightens.
“Yes. Please?” I am not beyond begging.
Instead of answering, he lifts his hips and thrusts into me.
“Something like that?” he asks.
“Yes.” My eyes close. He takes over every part of me. Body, mind, heart, and soul. I’m not sure if I believe in love at first sight, but I believe in this all-consuming feeling anytime I’m near him. It was the same that night. An undeniable attraction and chemistry.
John moves us so that I’m sprawled on my back along the chairs. He takes both of my hands in one of his and pumps into me. His lips take mine, hard and controlling. Our kiss gets deeper and more frantic the closer we get.
As the orgasm slowly builds and then slams into me, I get absolutely everything I wanted. Hot sex in the theater room and, more importantly, him.
John plays with my hair as I lean against him in a post-sex haze. “You know, you could stay. Indie’s already asleep.”
“I can’t. I still need to read for classes tomorrow.”
“Oh shit.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be. Tonight was great. I need to figure out how to juggle things better. Indie and I have kept a really rigorous schedule and I’m still struggling to manage it all.”
“I meant what I said the other night. I want to help. Let me. What can I do to make things easier on you?”
“Well. Thursday night there’s this thing. The Creative Writing department puts it on once a year. Department professors set up this mock pitch fest.”
“Like book pitches?”
“Yeah. And each professor chooses one student to work with on the book for the rest of the year. It’s not likely I’ll get selected, but just the pitch practice will be great. They announce their selections at the department Halloween party.”
“The department has a Halloween party?”
“Oh yeah. Apparently, it’s quite an event. My professors have been talking it up for months. I wasn’t planning on entering because I can’t really take Indie to something where I need her to sit still and be quiet, and if I get selected that means adding even more
to my plate-”
“Done.”
“Really? You don’t even know the details.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m there. What time?”
“The pitch fest starts at seven. Can you be at my place by six forty-five? It would probably be easier on Indie if you watch her there.”
He hesitates but nods slowly. “Yeah.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.” He squeezes me against him and kisses my neck. “I’ll be there.”
Chapter Eight
John
We’re messing around after practice. Two on two. Cameron and I against Shaw and Benny. Shaw’s a talented dude. He’s a great offensive player, but his defense is killer. I’ve got the ball at the wing. With a cocky grin, he stands in front of me in position, trying to strip me of the ball. Not today, fucker. I feel too good to let him best me.
What a crazy week. Each day that’s passed has just made me more thankful though. Spending time with Rylee and Indie is the best part of every day. All day long I walk around with a smile on my face, knowing I’ll get to hang with them later. I head over every night after practice, hang with Indie for about an hour before she goes to bed. That gives Rylee some time to do school stuff so that when our daughter is asleep, we can spend time together.
I never pictured dating like this, but I can’t say I hate it.
I fake left and then dribble behind my back and go right. Shaw curses under his breath. “You cocky bastard. Get that weak shit out of here,” he says, as he hustles to stop me from getting around him.
Cameron is posting on Benny. I send a high pass to him and jog to the top of the key to give him some space to work.
Shaw moves down, ready to help Benny defend, if needed. Cameron drop-steps and tries to get a shot off, but Benny and Shaw have him trapped. He sends the ball back to me and I take it to the basket. I see Shaw coming toward me, but I manage to get the ball up and into the net before he gets a hand in my face. He clips me on the way down.
“With the foul,” Cameron says and holds his wrist up for me to tap.
I take my shot from the free throw line. It sails up and in. I might not be as deadly on defense as Shaw, but I never miss a free shot.
“And one.” I pause in the follow through with a smirk aimed right at my buddy. His defense cost him today. I always capitalize on the and one.
“That’s game,” Cameron says.
Shaw rebounds the ball and bounces it hard against the wood floor. “Time for another game?”
“No, I have to get to Rylee’s. She’s got an event tonight. I’m watching Indie on my own.”
“Poor kid.” He grins. “Things are going well then?”
“Yeah. Things are great.”
“Told your parents?”
I wince. “No. I thought I should tell them in person. They’re coming down for the game next weekend.”
“Good plan. Catch them off guard and then toss the baby at them. Everyone loves babies.”
“They’ll be all right, I think.” I hope.
I check my phone for the time. “Fuck. I’m late. See you guys later.”
“I’ll keep my phone nearby in case of emergency,” Shaw calls after me.
After a quick shower and change, I head for Rylee’s apartment.
She opens the door with Indie in her arms. “You’re late. I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.”
“Sorry. I lost track of time.”
Indie squeals when she sees me, which makes Rylee hurriedly handing her off to me less awkward.
“Hey, pretty girl,” I say and kiss her soft, sticky cheek.
“I’ll have my phone on silent, but I’ll check between pitches. The event is in the English building on the second floor. I laid out pajamas for her. If she has trouble falling asleep, call me and I can try to sing to her or something.”
“We’ll be fine.” I grab her wrist and pull her to me for a kiss. “So will you.”
She takes a deep breath. “Thank you. I’m nervous.”
“Go kill it. We’ve got it here.” I take Indie’s hand. “Don’t we?”
Rylee smiles as she looks between us. “That’s a good look for you.”
“And that is a good look for you,” I say. Her hair is down and curled. Her normal jeans and T-shirt have been replaced with black pants and a white button-down. She has on those sexy glasses and a touch more makeup than normal, I think. She looks sexy and smart.
She leans forward and kisses Indie. “Bye. Call if you need me.”
She’s still slow to leave, watching us as she opens the door and steps out.
When she’s finally gone, I look at my daughter. “Looks like it’s just us. What should we do first?”
I set her down and she walks to the bookshelf in the living room.
“You are your mother’s daughter,” I say, sprawling out to sit on the floor. I take up a good portion of it with my long legs. Indie hands me three books and then sits on my lap.
She babbles as I read. Some of the books are pretty entertaining and soon I realize I’ve read nine books instead of the three I intended.
“How about a bath?”
The b word turns out to be the word that sets off an hour-long struggle to get my daughter clean and in bed. All week she’s effortlessly gone into the bathroom for her bath. I’ve seen her play in the bubbles and squeal with delight. I know the kid likes baths, but tonight it’s as if I’m torturing her. She thrashes and climbs out every time I place her in the tub.
“Just have to get clean, sweet pea.” I’m also trying every form of endearment I know in hopes it’s the magic password that unlocks the sweet child I know is in there. Sweet pea isn’t it.
I get soap in her eye trying to quickly wash her, which obviously doesn’t help.
The bathroom is soaked, so am I, by the time I get her to her room. She’s good and worked up now. I forego the pajamas but manage to get her in a diaper and rub some of the nighttime soothing lotion Rylee always puts on her before bed.
She’s really wailing now. I refuse to call Rylee for help. I’ve got this. Probably.
There’s absolutely no getting Indie into her crib. My heart breaks as she sobs into my shoulder. I pace and pat her back. I pull out my phone and bring up a picture of Rylee and Indie I took at The White House in the gym. Indie clutches onto the device and her sobs get a little quieter. She’s got herself so upset she’s hiccupping too.
“Mommy will be home soon, sweetheart.” My voice mixed with the photo seems to be helping so I keep reassuring her as I pace.
Sweet little Indie is heavy. Forget lifting weights, this is the best workout I’ve had in a long while. My arms ache from holding up her limp body.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize to my daughter. “I’m not as good at any of it as mommy is, but I’m trying. We’ll be okay, right?”
She’s quiet. I pull the phone from her hands, but I’m too afraid to move her to check to see if she’s sleeping. I creep to the couch and slowly lower us onto it. It takes some weight off my arms and I let out a long breath. Man, if this kid isn’t tired by now, there’s no hope. I’m exhausted.
My arms are spent. I lay down with her on my chest and pull a blanket over the top of her. Her droopy eyes flutter open and then close. I shut mine. Maybe if I pretend to sleep, she’ll take the hint.
That’s my last thought. The next thing I know Rylee is standing over me with Indie in her arms, talking to her in a hushed tone.
“Hey,” she says to me. I sit up and run a hand over my hair. My T-shirt clings to my body with sweat where Indie slept on top of me.
She disappears toward Indie’s bedroom and I stand and stretch. I check the time surprised it’s only ten. Man, no wonder Rylee struggles to get shit done. Three hours and I’m toast. And we probably slept one of those hours.
When she returns, she’s barefoot and her hair is pulled up into a ponytail. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” My voice is deep from sleep. “Is she oka
y? I might have just traumatized our child with my subpar bedtime skills.”
“She’s fine. Did she give you a rough time?”
“Everything was going great until I started getting her ready for bed. I am not as good at this as you.” I rub at my chest. “Fuck, I’m exhausted. I have a new appreciation for what you’ve been managing on your own.”
“She likes routine. She’ll get used to you putting her to bed if you do it more.”
I might have to psych myself up for that, but I don’t admit that out loud. “How’d pitching go?”
“Good. I think.” She takes a seat on the couch next to me and pulls her feet up under her. “The first couple of times I did it, I was really nervous, but it got easier.”
“What were you pitching?”
“It’s this young adult fantasy novel I’ve been working on for like three years. I’ve rewritten the first twenty pages so many times.” She shakes her head.
“Fantasy, huh?”
“Mermaids and underwater adventures. An evil king and a swoony prince trying to redeem the family name.”
“Sounds awesome.”
“Yeah, well. It can only be awesome if I actually write it. Otherwise, it’s just a really great idea. The world is full of those.”
“Can I read what you have?”
“What if you hate it?”
“That seems unlikely.”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Did you have any professors interested in working on it with you?”
“A few seemed interested. They might have been faking or had others that they felt were a better match. I won’t know until the Halloween party.”
“Is it a costume party?”
“Oh yeah. The more elaborate, the better.” Her chin tucks and her eyes fall to her lap. “I’m not sure I’ll go.”
“Why the hell not?”
“For starters, I don’t have anyone to watch Indie. You have a game. Lindsey has other plans, I’m sure. Besides. I’m not sure it’s a great idea to take on another project this semester. As I was talking to some of the professors, I realized just how much extra work this could be.”