“I’m starving. Can I have popcorn?” he asks.
“Sure.”
Then he is off again.
I rub my face, reminding myself that he’s a kid who is entering an awkward age because these sure as hell are no longer the days of never leaving our sides because Mom and Dad are the best thing in the whole world. Following Brielle back into the kitchen, she heads straight to the cupboard to collect a popcorn bag.
“He needs to unwind, but after that, it’s full-on family time whether he likes it or not.” I grab vitamin water from the fridge.
Brielle is busy pressing buttons on the microwave. “You’re right.” She turns and heads to the sink to clean a mug she must have used while I was away.
Walking straight to her, I stand behind her and allow my hand to sneak underneath her skirt to tease that soft stretch of skin on her inner thigh.
She gasps instantly. “What are you doing?” she mutters, and I can hear her smile.
“It’s impossible not to touch you when the opportunity arises.”
“Ford, our son is in the other room, and you better get used to behaving because we’re not sharing a bed the next few nights.”
I sigh at the reminder, but this morning we agreed that it was for the best. Connor is the priority, and we need to be tactful and slowly ease him into the change in his parents’ relationship status.
Ignoring the reality of our parameters, I let us have these few minutes while our son is nowhere in sight. I slip my finger between her thighs, riding up but stopping short, but it doesn’t mean I don’t feel her heat near my finger. I bet if I touched her pussy, she would be soaking, but I’m not that reckless.
My other hand grabs her hair with a little force to bring her neck to my mouth. “All I want to do is watch you touch yourself to show me how much you want me before I bend you over the kitchen counter and defile you until you scream,” I growl low against her throat.
“That’s quite a picture you paint,” she hisses.
“I’m not the teenage boy you lost your virginity to. I’m a man now who has had years to think of all the dirty things I want to do to you, before I kiss you gently because I love you.”
I pull her tight to me, only to feel her shudder as she melts against my body.
“Ford,” she hums.
“Why don’t we take these off?” I begin to tug on the string of her thong.
A scoffed sound escapes her mouth which now hangs open. “No way. You need to back up and find me a bowl for the popcorn.” She shimmies against me but rides my finger at the same time as the sound of corn kernels popping fills the room.
“I can get used to you standing in my kitchen.” I move my hand away from her middle and follow the curve of her ass that I gently spank before stepping back. “A bowl you said?” I casually inquire, as if nothing just happened.
Brielle grips the edge of the sink as she catches her breath. “Yeah, and some manners!” She twists her body and playfully swats me as I walk away.
Grabbing a ceramic bowl from the shelf, I proceed to open the microwave that beeped.
“Should we do homemade pizzas for dinner? That’s easy, right?” She seems to be focused again.
I wash my hands then pour the bag of corn into the bowl. “Sounds good. Tomorrow, we can just chill by the pool, or go on the boat, walk around town. I kind of feel like Pioneer Park is no longer on the list of options.”
Our son rejoins the room and is quick to inform us, “No way. I’m way too old for that shit.”
“Whoa, language.” I’m not impressed and hold the bowl up in the air so he can’t reach it. “Maybe we keep that word out of our vocabulary.”
“Why? Other kids and Aunt Violet say it all the time.” He attempts to reach for the popcorn.
“You are not other kids, and Aunt Violet is in her twenties, trying to figure out her life, and she still considers ice cream its own food group, so she’s not exactly the pillar of goals.”
I notice Brielle drop her face into her palm. “How about we try a clean slate from your arrival at home.”
Connor sits on a stool and slouches against the counter. “Sure, but it’s Dad’s home, not yours.”
