“You have such a beautiful cock, cowboy,” he said, his lips slick and swollen.
“And you have such a beautiful mouth,” I replied, reaching up to run my thumb over his lower lip. I wished I had another one in me, but this had been perfection.
It didn’t take us long after that to clean up—again—and then get back in bed together. We didn’t even talk about whether or not he was staying, I just held him as he held me, needing to breathe each other’s air. Needing to fall asleep knowing he was in my arms.
This time,when I woke up with Skylar sprawled across my chest, a smile reached my lips. I’d been terrified—genuinely terrified—about what sex with a man meant about me, but now all I could think was I didn’t know how I got so lucky to have a man as wonderful, as willing to forgive my peccadillos and fears, and I could only hope him being with me meant something good about who I was as a person.
I took a deep breath, and as I did, Sky opened his eyes, flicking a concerned look in my direction.
“How are we doing, cowboy?”
“You don’t have to keep on checking in on me, I promise. I feel amazing. And I like you a whole lot.”
His smile could make my world.
“I like you a whole lot, too. And I like seeing you happy in the morning.”
“Been a long time since I woke up feeling this good.”
“Yeah? How’s your knee?”
“Oh, it’s agony. But I don’t give a shit.”
Disgruntlement creased his eyebrows. “I don’t like it when you’re in pain.”
“I know. You dragged me all the way into Austin for an MRI to show me exactly how much you hated me being in pain. I’m getting surgery in two weeks because you hate me being in pain so much.”
“Oh, is that right? That’s why you’re getting the surgery? Not because you have a torn meniscus, but because I hate you being in pain?”
“Pretty much.”
It was the truth, and I wasn’t willing to lie to him.
“Fine. I’ll take it.”
We gave each other a chaste peck on the lips.
“Let me brush my teeth so I can kiss you properly,” I whispered, bussing his forehead.
“Me too.”
As we began to separate, my bedroom door opened.
Reed.
Skylar stiffened beside me. “Shit.”
I knew he had to be worried that I’d freak out all over again, especially since it was my son. Weirdly enough, this being my son made everything so much clearer. I had always told Reed I would tell him the truth, that I wouldn’t assume him having autism meant he couldn’t understand.
“Son? What’s the rule about entering someone’s bedroom?”
Reed stopped in the middle of typing out a message on his iPad, finally clocking Skylar in my bed. Sky sketched a little wave at him, and Reed turned pink.
He hit a button—I’m guessing the Delete key—several times on his iPad, and a few moments later the British voice said, “I’m supposed to knock. I apologize. Good morning, Skylar.”
“Good morning, Reed. Did you sleep well?”
“No. McKenzie and I had a lot of sex instead.”
