“There’s only one thing I want for breakfast, anyway,” I whisper against his lips.
Jacob moans into my mouth and a moment later I feel him erupt in my hand. He whines.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, I—”
I pump him through his release, holding his gaze.
“Just can’t help yourself, I know.” I grin. His heated gaze falls on me and he bites his lip. “Yeah.”
I raise my hand, drawing my fingers to my lips. I don’t break his gaze as I lick my fingers clean, making a show of using my tongue to lick his cum from my palm.
“Neither can I,” I say. He smirks, reaching for my cock, and I don’t fight him. We make out under the spray while he jerks me off until the water runs cold.
By the time we finally make it to the kitchen, we’re the last ones there.
My mother glances at us, and I can tell she’s trying to hide her smile.
“Morning,” my father says gruffly, with his cup of coffee in his hand while he stares at the newspaper.
Uncle Travis is plating up his plate with a stack of bacon and sausage and one overeasy egg while Lola is lost in her phone and Aunt Shannon eats her bowl of cereal with strawberries.
Chris looks like shit. He’s barely touched his food. I head for the spread of bagels on the island while Jacob heads for the stove and the eggs on the counter. I watch as he cracks two, focusing on his task and it’s not lost on me how comfortable he is here, despite the circumstances. In his white tee and checkered shirt and jeans, barefoot in my kitchen, he looks like he belongs here.
“So, what’s on the agenda today?” my mother asks, and I realize she’s talking to me.
“Oh, um… well, it’s Monday, so no event today, so I figured maybe Jake and I would go to the beach. Get some sun.”
Jacob turns to me with surprise. “If you want to, that is.”
His expression softens, and he smiles. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”
Garrett pulls our attention. “George and I will be working on solidifying our plans for our event Wednesday. You know you can’t be too prepared when it comes to planning events.”
Garrett glances at Jacob.
“How did you two meet again?” Garrett asks. “Refresh my memory, Aaron.”
“Coffee,” I say plainly. “Remind me when you two got married again. I can’t seem to recall how long it’s been.”
George grins. “Two months. I know it feels like longer—believe me.”
Garrett purses his lips.
“Ah. Still in that honeymoon phase then, huh, Garrett?”
Garrett scowls at me. “When you know, you know.” His bitterness is not missed.
“How long have you and Jake been together?”
“Six months,” Jacob says at the same time I say, “three months.”
I look at him, and his eyes widen.
“Don’t you know how long you’ve been together?” Garrett says smugly, as if he’s proving a point. He knows I don’t buy his marriage, and he isn’t buying my relationship.
Fuck.
We need to fix this. I can’t have him throwing me or Jacob under the bus.
