I tip her chin up to look at me. “Did you enjoy getting to know the girls?”
“It was so fun.” Billie’s smile is automatic, almost like she’s recalling memories of her talking and laughing with my extended family. And a little like the way she pulls foreign feelings from me when I first wake, a rare wave of contentment settles in the morning air.
Her smile turns devilish, and I drop my hand to her ribs. I know that look, one that precedes her poking fun at me for something.
“If the next words to leave your mouth concern my age or the wrinkles around my eyes, then I will tickle you until all the air leaves your lungs.”
She doubles down, quirking a challenging brow. “That’s not what I was going to say actually. But since you mentioned age, I might as well ask the question.”
I narrow my eyes at her, fingers hovering over the training top I gave her last night. She can keep it for all I care; it looks damn fine on her and at least she’ll have a piece of me wrapped around her when she climbs into bed alone each night. I’ve no idea if she’s wearing panties underneath, even if I’m desperate to find out.
“Go ahead.”
Billie places a patronizing palm against my cheek, and I notethat she wore her bracelet to bed. I wonder if she ever takes it off. I hope not.
“The last time we spoke, you told me that we had to put distance between us.” She looks down at where our bodies are pressed together. “This doesn’t look like a lot of distance to me. Or did your geriatric brain forget all about our conversation?”
She’s on her back in a millisecond, my fingers teasing her ribs until she can barely breathe, face turning beet red under the strain of glorious giggles.
When Billie tries to pull away, I keep her in place with a hand on her hip, and I hold myself above her by bracing a forearm next to her head on the pillow, marveling at how flawless she looks beneath me. This moment is even better than how it played out in my fantasies.
When she grows weary, I relent, letting her pull oxygen into her lungs.
She’s panting, and my chest is heaving for totally different reasons. If we ever had the chance to be together, this is exactly how I’d take her for the first time—me sliding inside her tight pussy, my dick pulling tiny gasps from her swollen lips after I ravished her mouth with mine.
She reaches up, pushing a delicate hand through my disheveled hair. There are so many words we both want to voice, and I wonder what she’ll say next when she finally catches her breath.
“You told me you’d always be honest with me, Emmett. And last night, everything you said in that room was a lie.”
I don’t bother to deny it, too exhausted to fight our reality.
I study her face for a beat, admiring the scattered freckles decorating the bridge of her nose. “What can I do to make it up to you, Mama?”
She pulls back, processing the nickname I just gave her. It feels perfect for Billie. While she’s so much more than a mother, this woman has got me wrapped around her little finger, just likeshe has with her beautiful daughter. I’m waiting on her every word, in awe of her strength.
“Put your hands on me, Emmett.”
It’s the first time Billie has asked me to go further physically, and, fuck me, do I want to.
I drop my face into the crook of her neck. It would be so easy to lower my shorts and free my cock.
I glide my nose along her sensitive flesh, lips paused over the shell of her ear. “Tell me how you want me to touch you. Where you want my fingers and dick.”
When I nudge my knee between her thighs, I swear I can feel heat radiating from her apex.
A breath snags in her throat before she swallows down my question. “I don’t care where your hands end up, as long as they’re making me scream.”
We don’t move, a standoff forming between us. Every part of me wants to take this woman; it’s what I haven’t been able to stop thinking about for weeks.
“If I put my hands on you, then there’s no going back. Everything will shift between us.”
Behind her lustful eyes, I know she understands the significance of this moment, the reasons why I’m holding back—and not just because of how forbidden she is. Billie’s body isn’t even seven weeks postpartum, and while I’m no expert in childbirth, I do know that I’m larger than average. Sure, I could tell my brain to take it steady, but that doesn’t mean my deprived body would get the memo. My desire to fuck her is bordering feral, and my dick is desperate to destroy her tight pussy the first chance it gets. I’m a man after all, and she is nothing like I’ve ever seen before. No woman compares to the beauty lying beneath me, waiting for me to make a move.
Sitting back on my heels, I bring her body with me until we’re both kneeling in the center of my bed.
“What do you want, Billie?”
Rolling her lips together, she confirms, “I want to have funwith you.” She casts her eyes around the bed. “Right here, right now.”
