While she fumbles with her keys, I press against her from behind, dragging my lips and tongue along the shell of her ear. I coast my hands up her thighs, grasping her hips and pulling her ass back into my lap.
“Do I need to wait until we’re in your bedroom, or can I strip this dress off of you and fuck you against the inside of this door?” I growl.
“Why not both?” she murmurs.
A groan rumbles out of me as the door clicks open. With my hands firmly on her soft hips, I shove her inside, the two of us tripping over each other. I’m reaching for the zipper on her dress when Carson goes rigid.
And that’s when I notice we’re not alone.
There’s a woman sitting on the couch, her gray hair in a curly bob, a T-shirt readingtrust in the lord alwaysstretched across her ample bosom. She’s been flipping through a magazine, but now she’s looking at us with a wide—if suspicious—smile.
“Surprise!” she says.
I can’t see Carson’s face since I’m standing behind her, but I can picture her wide eyes, her lips parted in silent shock.
“Mom?”
CHAPTER 26
CARSON
My mother is in my living room.
My mother is in my living room, I’m holding a CVS bag full of condoms, and my panties are in Dan McBride’s pocket.
Oh. My. God.
“Mom, what are you doing here?” I ask, feeling red splotches creeping up my chest and into my cheeks. I try to ease the condom bag behind my back.
“Your aunt Gladdie scored front-row seats to see the Mormon Tabernacle Choir at IU, so I flew up on a whim! Isn’t that wild? I booked my flight this morning! I figured I’d surprise you.” Mom is grinning, but her eyes are sweeping over my wet hair and the mascara that’s probably pooling beneath my eyes.
“I’m definitely surprised!” I reply, taking one giant step into the living room and away from Dan.
“Daniel, it’s nice to see you again,” she says. Her eyes go straight to the hem of his shirt, hanging unevenly since he missed a button after our skinny dipping session. Then she looks back at me. She doesn’t say anything out loud, but the question is all over her face:What is going on, Carson Jane?
God, did she hear the filthy things he said to me out on the porch?
“I offered Dan the guest room after a pipe burst in his apartment,” I say.
Her brow furrows. “Is that why you’re wet?”
“I, uh—” Why is the only thing going through my head right nowthat’s what she said?
“I was showing Carson a place I used to swim out on Highway 9,” Dan says.
I suck in a breath, bracing for more questions.
“Swimming at night? Goodness, that can be dangerous. I hope you were safe,” Mom tuts.
“Absolutely,” I sputter, squeezing the condom bag in my fist.
“Good. I was wondering why you were out so late. I got in two hours ago and have just been sitting here waiting. I finished the book I got at the airport and was dang near finished with this issue ofPeople. I was really starting to get worried,” she says, then yawns. She closes the magazine in her lap and stands up. “I’m pooped from the trip. I went ahead and put my things in my room.”
“You’re staying here,” I say—not a question, just an attempt to process this insane reality in which my mother, who never goes to the grocery store without a strategic plan and four different lists, hopped on a plane this morning.
And is in my living room.
Where I was hoping to have hot, filthy, depraved sex with the man who lives here with me.
