She likes this. Likes seeing a baby in my arms. It sends a symphony of hormones through her, probably at the thought of me holding a baby that would be ours.
The moment our hunger for one another is tamed, as soon as a few days of sexless rest becomes acceptable, I’m getting my vasectomy reversed. We’re probably not quite ready yet, but since it can take up to a year for everything to return to normal for me—if it ever does—we might as well get ahead of things.
“Alright, it’s not that I’m kicking you out, guys,” Kevin says when the conversation becomes sparse, “but I feel the urge to be alone with my wife and Jamaican music in the background. So, if you have any sympathy for a working dad who hasn’t had a seven-times-a-day streak in over six years, now would be a great time to go.”
Andrea laughs while Michelle shakes her head. Out of sympathy for my old friend and because I need to put my freckled dork to bed, I comply and stand up. Since I’m holding the baby, and she’s already half asleep, Kev leads me to Madison’s bedroom so I can lay her down in her crib.
When we return, Andrea already has her coat on, and Shelly’s giving her a farewell hug. Once I’m ready to go as well and the goodbyes are over with, Kevin opens the door for us, and we venture into the dark night.
“Yes,” Andrea says, coming into the crook of my arm as we walk.
“Hm?”
“Yes, I’ll move in with you.” My steps halt, pausing our walk toward the car, and I look down at her, finding her with a smile from ear to ear. “Officially, I mean.”
Words would fail to express how utterly happy this makes me, so I don’t even try to answer. Instead, I frame her beautiful face with my hands and pull her in for a kiss, passing through every shred of adoration I have for her, and every ounce of love I harbor.
“Leave my property right now, you cruel assholes,” Kevin shouts at us. “I have a sleeping baby and a tipsy wife. All of this is peak fantasy for me.”
Andrea giggles against my lips, probably sensing Kev’s palpable despair, and I pull away just enough to gaze into her brown eyes. The pad of my thumb grazes the freckles that dust her cheekbone, the skin so soft and warm under my hand.
I’ll never understand what I did to deserve this maddeningly perfect woman. But she lives in my mind, in my heart, and now, in my home.
Chapter 20
Warmth encases me. Or rather, my cock. A tongue. Wet lips. And a tight throat. Still half asleep, mind fogged by the slumber I was just pulled out of, I try to think past the pleasure. But it’s hard, given Andrea’s enthusiasm. Her mouth is like a fucking vacuum, trying to suck it all out of me.
My hand travels down, my fingers tangle in the messy curls of her bed hair, and I mumble, “Greedy…”
Her plump lips stretch into a smile around my cock, and, knowing I’m awake now, they tighten on the wet skin. Fuck, I consider this cheating. Taking me by surprise when my defenses are down. I don’t know how long she’s been at it, but I’ll venture less than a minute. Which is about what I have left at this point.
Instinct has me pressing her harder onto me, to shove myself to the back of her throat, but reason makes me pull her away within a second.
Today is her birthday. I should be doing this to her. Not the other way around.
“Andrea,” I groan, swinging the covers away.
She looks up at me with mischief, lips pursed around my girth as she lowers herself again. All the fucking way, until her lips meet the trimmed hair at my base.
My head falls as my eyes roll back, subjugated by the sensations as much as the vision. How the fuck does she do it? How can she take my entire length in her like this? It’s almost like a trick, an optical illusion. But it really is her tongue, running over the protruding vein on the underside, nearly all the way to my balls.
Her eyes are already on me when I look down again, and the moan she lets out vibrates through me. One of her hands deftly cradles the sack below, and the other one—Fucking hell… It’s between her legs, playing with her pretty little cunt while she sucks me off.
Letting her do all the work, today of all days, sits wrong with me, so once more, I attempt to stop her, framing her bobbing head to pull it up. It works, but only because she allows it.
“This is what I want, Lex. Come down my throat,” she demands before returning to her task.
Her assertive tone leaves no room for questions or doubts. Of all the ways we could start today, it’s the one she chooses.
Then it hits me. I did the same to her on my birthday. I feasted on her, high on her scent and taste, and I was in fucking heaven for it. She feels the same way, doesn’t she? She, like me, can’t think of a better way to celebrate her birthday than by making me come with her mouth.
This time, when my hand returns to her curly head, I know what to do. I don’t guide her, but I keep her down a little longer each time. She likes it when I use her like that, when I’m dominant and demanding. If I had any doubt about that, her moans would confirm it.
The hand between her legs works faster, ripping more pleasure-induced sounds that ripple down my cock. I watch her, listen, and observe, using it as a slight distraction so I don’t come too fast. In fact, I do it so well that she comes before I do.
As soon as I see the plea in her watery eyes, the way she silently begs me to follow her, I allow myself to let go. My cock throbs within the confines of her mouth, pulsing as cum spurts out of me, coating her tongue, palate, and the back of her throat.
“Fuck,” I mutter through gritted teeth, watching her drink it all down.
