By the time she was back, I was naked and in her bed.
“Everyone is out,” she said, pulling her shirt over her head, revealing a lacy black bra.
“Come here. Let me do that,” I demanded, my gaze never leaving hers.
She obeyed, and straddled me on the bed, putting a little pressure just where she needed it.
“Oh God.” She moaned and her head fell back, allowing me access to the front clasp of her bra.
Once I quickly unfastened it, the straps fell down her arms, her breasts coming loose of the cups. I leaned forward, taking one nipple in my mouth, the other between my index finger and thumb. She continued to moan, her hair spilling down her back, the prettiest sight I’d ever seen.
“Let’s get you out of those clothes,” I said, pulling free of the covers and shoving down her shorts.
She rolled to the side, landing with her head on the pillow, and I tugged her panties and socks the rest of the way off, settling right where I’d dreamed of being, my mouth at her core. I felt the heat coming through her panties, and decided to get rid of them too.
“Just relax,” I told her, and she listened a second time, her head pressing back into the pillow.
My tongue ran its way over her heat, up and down, finally finding the place where she was most sensitive. I took my time, gentle licks and nips, driving her wild, until she begged, “Please.” Only then did I pick up speed and give her the release she wanted. I dragged out every moan, savoring each taste and sound, until Bexley was wrung out underneath me.
After climbing my way back up her body, I fused my mouth to hers. She’d never minded tasting herself on me, and it was good to see things hadn’t changed.
“Want you inside me,” she said, “but I also want you in my mouth.”
“We have plenty of time to fool around later. Right now, I want to be deep inside you.”
When I started to get up, she asked, “Where are you going?”
“Condom.”
She shook her head. “We don’t need it.”
“Is that so? This coming from the woman who works at the health clinic?”
“Stop, get over here,” she said. “I’m clean, on the pill.”
“It’s been a while for me . . .”
“That’s good enough for me,” she said, and I didn’t wait.
With one push, I was inside her, and this time it was me doing the moaning.
“Feels so fucking good,” I whispered, my lips ghosting across her cheek.
Catching her hands in mine, I raised them above her head and drove into her. With her eyes open, she took me in, watched me pump in and out of her.
“Faster,” she demanded, and I obeyed. “I want to feel you let go. Please, Aston.”
She didn’t need to ask again. I did as I was told, climaxing just as Bexley went off for a second time.
Coming down from what felt like a major high, I rolled to the side. “I should get something to help you clean up, but I think I’m dead,” I murmured. “You know, I’m a lot older than when we met.”
Bexley laughed. “Wait here. I’ll use the bathroom and take care of all that. Rest up for round two.”
She slipped out of bed, and I snatched her wrist. “Hurry back. I like how you’re thinking.”
Her giggle was the best thing I’d heard all day.
Bexley
“This is fun. Thanks, Bexley,” Little A said to me over a bright red snow cone.
We’d gone to a craft fair in the desert, and now we were sitting having a snack. Originally, the boys had fought me on it because they’d wanted to go to the arcade, but we all needed some outdoor time, and Piper had recently gotten into making papier mâché. Soccer had ended for the season, and she was in full-on craft mode.
“You’re welcome,” I told him, tapping his red nose. “You look like Rudolph. By the way, you know you can call me Bex like your dad does. Or B, if you want.”
“What about Mom? I don’t have one anymore, you know?”
It had been six weeks since Aston had wormed his way back into my life. Since then, we’d been spending most of our free time together, sharing dinners and outings with the kids, and going on dates. But for the most part, we stayed the night in our separate houses.
Occasionally, Aston spent the night at my place, leaving Denise with the kids. Of course, Cass had thrown a major fit when she found out that Aston and I were dating again, and landed in some chic rehab center for two weeks. Once she was out and clean, she decided that being a part of the kids’ lives—and subsequently Aston’s—was too much for her to handle.
I couldn’t even begin to unpack my feelings when it came to that woman.
“That’s up to you, buddy,” I told Little A.
The sweet-talker he was, he took my hand in his. “Well, I asked Dad. I don’t want Tyler to be mad, because you’re his mom. But I think Dad is going to marry you, and then you’d be my mom too. Since my own mom doesn’t want to be mine anymore.”
“Aston . . .” My big guy growled at his son by his full name while still listening with one ear to Piper go on and on about papier mâché.
“It’s okay. He can tell me and ask me anything he wants,” I said, rushing to Little A’s defense, scowling at Aston for getting mad at his Mini-Me for being honest.
“I know that,” Aston said, side-eyeing me. “I meant what else he was going on about. Getting—”
I shushed him. “It’s fine. Kids have overactive imaginations. Piper, did you sell Little Aston on a fairy tale?” I joked, because the reality of it all was frightening. I’d wanted to spend the rest of my life with Aston Prescott since I was eighteen years old.
“Mom, stop. Really—”
I took a look around, realizing
