Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
We snickered like a couple of idiots all the way home.
Somehow it was the release we needed after walking on eggshells hoping this fragile new life would grow and thrive. And they were. We’d still worry and smother Lena with unintentional hovering, but today, in this moment, we gave ourselves permission to just be happy.
I dropped my keys into the bowl on the console table in the newly remodeled mudroom Aaron had insisted was a crucial element in our kitchen expansion and remodel project a few years ago.
A piece of that old conversation echoed in my head as I snaked my arm around his slim waist and leaned against the counter.
“Trust me, a larger mudroom makes sense, Matty. Someday we’re going to pull our minivan full of kids into the garage, and they’re going to trounce through my fabulous kitchen with muddy boots or get into huge fights because their sibling is in their way. Happened all the time when I was a kid. Add a dog to the mix, and it’ll be sheer mayhem!”
“You’re going to drive a minivan?”
“Ew, no, but…you get the idea.”
I glanced at the black-and-white tile in the adjoining space with the built-in bench to sit and remove shoes, the hooks above for coats, and the cubbies for miscellaneous things like hats and mittens. I didn’t want us to get ahead of ourselves, but I could see it now…the kids, the dog, the chaos. My heart suddenly felt too big for my chest.
I buried my nose in Aaron’s neck and breathed in his scent. “All right, husband, give me your best Horton.”
Aaron’s shoulders shook with laughter as he tried to wriggle away. “If you’re trying to get in my pants, that can never be your opening line. I thought you had to go back to the city anyway.”
“No, I’m going to work from home this afternoon.” I grabbed his ass and bent my knees to grind our cocks. Even with a few layers of clothing in between, he felt amazing. “What about you?”
He fiddled with the buttons of my oxford shirt and gazed up at me with half-hooded eyes. “I have an interview with a cranky old designer at three. And I have to pick up Murphy from the trainer’s by five.”
“I can do that for you,” I purred, nibbling his jaw as I unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his khakis.
The sound of the zipper scraping in its grooves reverberated throughout the quiet kitchen. I palmed his growing erection through the cotton barrier and squeezed his length.
“Mmm, yes.” Aaron pushed my shirt off my shoulders and tweaked my nipples. “Are you gonna fuck me…Horton?”
I snickered, nipping his bottom lip. “Okay, you win. Don’t say that name again…ever.”
“Yes, Daddy. Can I say that?”
“I…oh, yeah, that’s…okay.”
“Just okay?” he purred as I lowered his jeans, splaying my hands on his gorgeous ass.
“No, it’s so good. God, I love this ass. Mine.” I slid my tongue between his lips and devoured him.
“Yours.”
Aaron always gave as good as he got. His hands were everywhere now—one in my hair, the other trailing a teasing path down my chest to my dick.
Damn it, we were wearing far too many layers.
Aaron seemed to agree. We stripped out of shirts and kicked off our shoes while sucking face like a couple of horny teens on a tight timetable. In a matter of seconds, we stood in the middle of our kitchen in our boxer briefs, surrounded by the debris of our discarded clothing.
I slipped my hand under the elastic and kneaded his cheeks, parting them to trail a finger along his crease as I rasped in his ear. “Do you want to go to our room, or can I fuck you here…over the island?”
He spun in my arms and flattened his chest on the quartz surface in response. “Yes, do it. Fuck me, Hort—”
“Don’t say it,” I warned, shoving his briefs out of the way to smack his bare ass.
Aaron snickered, swaying seductively. “Ow! Mean daddy.”
I wrapped him in my arms from behind, loving the feel of his warm skin as I kissed his shoulder. “You know it.”
I reached around to grip Aaron’s cock while I rocked my hips, nudging his crack. I hadn’t gotten rid of my boxer briefs yet, and that was okay. I wasn’t in a hurry…which was probably unwise. I had deadlines at offices on both coasts and I was sure I’d find a dozen urgent messages flashing on my cell. However, this seemed infinitely more important.
But…lube.
“There’s still a bottle in the junk drawer by the fridge. If you can’t find it, use coconut oil,” he suggested as if reading my mind.
“Coconut oil?” I stepped out of my boxer briefs, stroking my pole lazily as I rummaged through the drawer.
“It’s natural and hypoallergenic.”
“Is it normal to use six-syllable words with your ass in the air, or should I be worried?” I snarked. “No reply necessary. I found the good stuff.”