He pulls back slightly, releasing my clit with a filthypop.
“Let go for me, Trouble.” he growls, voice thick.
His mouth is back on me, tongue working with relentless precision, but now his fingers are there too, sliding inside me. One first. Then another. Pumping deep, curling just right, moving in perfect rhythm with his mouth. I cry out, so loud that I need to slap my hand over my mouth to muffle the sound as my orgasm rips right through me.
My thighs quake around his head and my vision blanks out. By the time I blink back into reality, Sebastian’s already standing, adjusting my underwear like he didn’t just wreck me at our daughter’s birthday party. He smooths my hair back and presses a soft kiss to my cheek, calm as ever. It’s completely inappropriate, terrible timing, but fuck, I needed it. And I love that he always knows what I need. That after all this time, after babies, and life, and stress and chaos, he still looks at me like I’m his everything.
I’m so fucking in love with this man. Still. Always. Forever.
We step out of the pantry just as the back door swings open. Isla enters, balancing two foil trays in her arms, sunglasses perched on her head, and a suspicious arch already lifting her brow. Her eyes sweep over us once—no doubt imagining in her mind what just happened—before narrowing into slits.
“I don’t even want to know,” she says, setting the trays on the bench with a knowing sigh. “But good for you!”
I don’t even bother defending myself. Just offer a sheepish smile as she waltzes back out to the party.
Sebastian leans in to whisper, “Still got it.”
“You’re so full of yourself.” A smirk pulls at my lips as I add, “One pantry orgasm and suddenly you think you’re twenty-five again.”
“Twenty-five had nothing on now. Back then, I didn’t haveyou.”
“So cheesy.” I snort, just as he wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me flush to his side.
“Only for you,” he says, brushing a kiss to my lips. “I love you, Trouble.”
“I love you too, Bash,” I murmur through a grin, fingers brushing his jaw. He winks, grabs the lighter off the bench, and heads for the cake, where I’ve already jabbed four candles into the centre. It’s two tiers of pink explosion and sparkles, and exactly what Lillian asked for. He lights each flame carefully, his big hands surprisingly gentle, and I grab the cake platter just as he steadies me with a palm to my lower back.
“Alright!” Sebastian calls out, loud enough to cut through the outside noise, two fingers in his mouth as he lets out a sharp whistle. “Cake time!”
The response is instant. Squeals. Screams. Stomping feet. Lillian sprints ahead of the chaos and skids to a stop in front of me, her face paint already cracking in the corners from smiling too hard all day. “Where’s Teddy?” she demands, looking left and right for her big brother.
I glance around just as he jogs up, tugging his Crocs back on with one hand, face flushed from playing tips in the grass. She beams and grabs his hand the second he’s within reach, dragging him forward. He stands tall behind her, eleven now, all long limbs and attitude, but still soft around the edges when it comes to his sister.
I press a quick kiss to his cheek as he passes.
“Mum,” he groans, wiping his face, but I catch the way his lips twitch. He loves it. He always has. Everyone gathers under thearbour where the balloons hang heavy and the “Happy Birthday” banner flaps gently in the breeze. With everyone all gathered, the whole yard echoes with the sound of singing—completely off-key, loud, and joyful. Lillian giggles through it, staring at the flames like they’re magic. When the song ends, she claps her hands and leans in.
“Make a wish,” Teddy says beside her. She does, before blowing out all four candles in one breath. Sebastian carefully lifts the knife for Lillian as they cut it together, all the way to the bottom. Teddy doesn’t miss a beat. He leans down to smack a kiss on Lillian’s cheek, drawing a collective “Awww!” from the crowd.
Sebastian and I both lean in from either side and kiss her head, our voices overlapping.
“Happy birthday, baby girl.”
“Four already?” I whisper against her hair. “How?”
She pulls back, squinting up at me with all the sass a glitter-covered four-year-old can muster. “Because that’s what comes after three, Mum.”
I laugh, and Sebastian smothers his snort beside me. Of course. What a silly question. I study her face as she licks frosting off her finger. Big blue eyes like mine. That crooked little smirk—pure Sebastian. She’s part him, part me, and somehow, all her own. And I’ll never stop being amazed that two people can make something like this. Someone.
That love can become a person. And in the same way, Teddy’s the same.
He may not be mine by blood, but over the years, it’s like he’smorphedinto part of me. The way he looks at me when he’s hurt. The way he rolls his eyes at my jokes. The way he still lets me kiss his cheek when he thinks no one’s watching. They’re both mine. In every way that matters. And I’ll never stop being in awe of that.
Before I get too weepy, I wipe my cheek, straighten, and lift my voice over the chaos.
“Alright, old man’s turn!”
The crowd stirs with laughter just as Amelia walks out, holding the second cake I made—this one chocolate with piping, and a big, golden5and0.
