He huffed a laugh and playfully bit my neck. A moan escaped me and my knees wobbled. Wingman shifted his weight forward, pinning me against the sink with his hips. I pressed my ass to his groin, grinding and teasing until the bulge of his hard-on was unmistakable.
“If I didn’t know any better,” he murmured, sliding my dress off one shoulder to expose my skin. “I’d say you’re the one cheapening the moment, baby. I came here to have a heart-to-heart with you and your son over dinner about our relationship. I’m being a gentleman, but you’re tempting me in this little black dress.”
I grabbed his wrist and guided his hand between my thighs.
“Dinner is over. You don’t have to be a gentleman anymore. I want my biker.”
His fingertips on my hip tightened to a bruising pressure. Working my panties off, he let them drop to the floor around my ankles.
“What about Mikey?” Wingman asked.
My heart warmed at his thoughtfulness, even when he was faced with the promise of sex in the kitchen.
“He sleeps like the dead,” I replied. “We won’t wake him.”
Wingman flipped my skirt up around my hips, smoothing his palms over my ass with an appreciative squeeze. Sliding one hand between my thighs, he caressed and stroked my clit until I squirmed. He mouthed at my neck, pinching with his teeth then soothing the burn with his tongue.
I closed my eyes, soaking up every sensation like a sponge. A protective, cautious part of me was terrified that we were moving too fast. It was tempting to think about a future with Wingman—with Reese.
But I should have eased myself into this. I should have taken it slow.
Instead, Wingman and I were hitting full throttle.
The clank of his belt and the grit of his zipper echoed in the quiet kitchen. A gust of wind rattled the window pane, but we were warm and safe together from winter’s onslaught. After he rolled his condom on, I felt Wingman guide his cock to my entrance, coaxing the tip inside.
A deep moan rumbled in his chest with his first slow thrust. I sighed at that hot glide, every inch pressing against my walls with a blissful throb. I pulled Wingman’s arms around me again, nestling into his embrace as we moved together.
Maybe I was being naive.
Maybe this would blow up in my face and Wingman would never surrender his freedom and the open road after all.
Maybe I would end up heartbroken and shattered for a second time.
A quiet little tug in my gut told me otherwise. This man was different. This man came back for me and my boy.
Wingman slipped his hand into the collar of my dress, cupping my breast. Tugging my bra cup down, he toyed with my nipple, making my walls flutter around his cock. He swore under his breath, burying his face in my shoulder.
“Fuck, you have to come soon, baby,” he said. “I can’t hold out much longer. Not when you squeeze me like that—”
I grinned and clenched hard. Wingman sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth and rammed deep, circling his hips. A wave of pleasure coursed through me. My toes curled and the muscles in my body strained, tighter and tighter.
But I wasn’t close. Not yet. It felt incredible—the drag of his cock, the way our bodies slotted together, his wandering hands grasping and touching and caressing every inch of me that he could reach.
My orgasm remained out of reach though. And I didn’t even care. I got to watch and feel Wingman fall apart. Because of me. Iwas the hot single mom that made this biker blow his load in two minutes flat.
“Shit,” he hissed. “You didn’t finish—”
When Wingman reached for my clit, I caught his wrist to stop him. Turning my head, I kissed him, threading my fingers up into his hair with a tug.
“Stay,” I said. “I want you here. With me. With Mikey. I want you to have breakfast with us. And I want you in my bed. To make me come. To sleep by my side, so I don’t wake up alone.”
Wingman held my gaze and gave a solemn nod. After we adjusted our clothes, I tucked Mikey into bed. Then I took Wingman by the hand and led him into my bedroom. Within the span of thirty seconds, he had me on my back, with my legs over his shoulders and his head buried between my thighs. The skill of his tongue took me to soaring new heights, trembling, gasping for air as I came so hard that I saw stars.
Epilogue
Elaine - One Year Later
“Where on earth are you taking me?” I demanded.
