“Aston . . .”
“You’re good for me,” he said softly. “Great for my kids. I know you can’t or won’t replace their mother. But you’re all good, Bex. I want to be as good for you.”
He didn’t allow for a reply on my part. He kissed me, close-mouthed, making a promise to be good or better without saying it. Then he simply said, “Move over,” and loaded the dishes in the dishwasher.
It was a sloppy and imperfect job, but it was done while I sipped the rest of my wine. It had been a while since I’d been cared for, and this small action plugged a hole in my heart I didn’t know was there until this moment.
“See? You gotta let someone do something for you sometimes. Now I’m going to take my kids home to get ready for bed with Denise, and then I’m coming back to get you ready for bed.”
I opened my mouth to argue, and Aston held up his hand.
“I’ll be discreet.”
Bexley
My hand shook as I opened the front door. Here I was, a living and breathing cliché, getting ready to sleep with the former love of my life while my kids were asleep down the hall. My long-lost ex-boyfriend stood in my doorway, waiting for me to invite him in for a secret late-night rendezvous. A freaking booty call.
I was everything I’d never wanted my daughter to be—other than in love. I’d truly been in love with Aston for forever, and in this moment, I didn’t care how long we lasted. I needed to feel him, give myself to him, even if for one last time.
My job was to console him, to take away his hurt and ease my own. My happiness should be first, but at the moment, I was all about him. My heart beat Aston, Aston, Aston.
With the door closed behind us, Aston spun me toward the banister and worked his mouth over mine again. His left hand held me still as the right traveled down my back and up again. On its second descent, he tugged at the hem of my tank and pulled it over my head.
“Adore this, missed it so much,” Aston said as he dropped to his knees in front of me.
He kissed my stomach while his hand came over my breast, his thumb moving slowly over my nipple. His tongue lingered around my navel and then journeyed south. He used his free hand to unbutton my jeans and toss off his jacket. Guiding me toward the third or fourth step, he gently set me down and shimmied my pants off, and I heard my flip-flops fall to the floor. My panties followed next.
Dazed, I sat there, the carpet rough against my bare ass, thinking I’d never done anything like this with Seth in the house we bought together. Not even remotely close, even though we’d been sort of happy at one point.
Giving my head a slight shake, I pushed thoughts of Seth far out of my mind as I watched Aston shrug off his shirt. He knelt before me, revealing a tattoo of a crest covering his heart.
That’s new. With a trembling finger, I traced the outline. It was filled with ancient symbols and letters within letters, but in the center was what looked like an A and a B entwined.
“For you,” he said when he saw me staring at it.
“Aston . . .” A tear fell from my eye.
“Don’t,” he said. “Not now.”
With a stroke of his thumb, the salty drop was gone, and his lips were back on mine.
His mouth began to move down my body for a second time until he was crouched between my thighs. He covered me with his hot breath before bringing the tip of his tongue to my most sensitive spot. I nearly shot off the step on a long moan. I’d definitely never done this before—on the stairs, bare for anyone to see. The kids could wake up and want a glass of water. Unlikely, considering they slept like the dead, but still.
“Shh,” he said, stilling me with a hand on my hip and continuing his assault on my most sacred part.
I came fast and hard, a long-awaited moment of ecstasy after over a year with just my vibrator and hand.
I needed to remember this, savor it, because it might never happen again. Aston could disappear from my life as quickly as he’d reappeared. Prison. His father. Everything was stacked against us, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I’d held out long enough.
I’d wanted to draw out my release, but as soon as he slid a finger inside me, I was nothing more than years of want and desire bursting, huge waves of ecstasy and emotion roiling inside me. The stair digging into my back was nonexistent, didn’t matter. My mind only calculated how many hours we had until the kids woke up.
There wasn’t enough time to get my fill—not even close. There never would be.
Aston kissed me, my taste on his tongue, and I found myself wanting him all over again. I needed him inside me. Everywhere, touching every nerve, stretching and filling me.
“Let’s go to my bed.”
I tried to stand but wobbled when I finally made it to my feet. Aston steadied me, his hand on my hip, and took my hand to lead me upstairs.
“On the left,” I told him.
In my room, I heard his zipper being undone and then his pants hit the hardwood. My back landed on the bed, and I watched as he squeezed his length, pumping his hand up and down before sheathing himself.
And then he was inside me. Deep, perfect, snug . . . it was as if he’d never left.
He knew what I needed, and he did it without prompting. Our bodies moved in sync, finding all the spots and the exact speed we needed, loved, and had discovered years ago. My hands ran down his back and scratched their way back
