“God, you’re fucking perfect,” he says as he pulls himself out of me. My inner thighs are soaked from both of us, so he hands me a drying rag that was sitting on the counter beside us.
I turn my head slightly and smile at him. If anyone is perfect, it’s him. I’m the farthest thing from it, but it’s still nice to hear.
After I’m able to catch my breath, I lift myself off the counter and lean down to grab my leggings, pulling them up around my hips once more. I wish I didn’t have to leave so soon. While I want to be home with my son, I also want to wake up next to Steven in the morning.
“Thank you for coming,” Steven whispers from behind me.
With a giggle, I say, “You too.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Not what I meant, but it works.”
I reveal I need to get home, or I would stay longer, and he waves me off, saying he understands. As he helps me with my jacket, his smile falters slightly.
“You know,” he comments. “I still don’t get why Russ never mentioned Damian whenever I would run into him.”
I shrug, wanting to dodge this topic entirely as I open the door to leave. “I’m not sure why. But I should get going.” Leaning in, I kiss him again before descending the front porch steps toward my car.
Anytime the topic is brought up, I leave before I put my foot in my mouth and give myself away. Now is definitely not the time to let that slip, especially after what just happened in his kitchen.
