Molly swept down the line, pausing at the fifth, then filling his glass again.She offered, much like Kat had, but Firenze didn’t take the bait.Instead, he took a ride he wasn’t going to enjoy.I laughed as Molly drank down the final shot and threw her hands into the air to celebrate.
Firenze looked a little green.
I tipped my head at Mario, daring him to drink one.
He stared at the bar for a moment before walking up to collect his son.He leaned in and asked, “The glasses the woman drank, they didn’t have alcohol, did they?”
“Oh, they had alcohol.Just not a lot.”
Firenze stumbled from the bar.
Mario frowned.“He’s going to embarrass us.”
“Better get someone to show him where the alley is,” I suggested.
Mario handed his son to me and took off to find a willing sacrifice.I stared at the kid in my hands for a minute.“Hey.”
His little cross-eyed stare tried to focus on me.It was cute.“I want one.”
“Give it about nine or ten months.”Ellie sipped on her drink.
Something in her tone made me study her.“You went to the doctor last week, didn’t you?”
She nodded.
Where was the nearest coat closet?“You know we can’t have sex on the plane.Edward frowns on that shit.”
“And the limo to the airport is going to be… cramped.”Ellie’s eyes darted toward the stairs to the downstairs.
“Do you still have your key?”I asked and indicated the door to the basement.
She nodded, slipping off her stool and around the corner to deftly unlock the door.I waited until a roar of laughter rose from the back of the bar before handing off the baby and joining her on the stairs.I pulled the door shut behind me.I quickly flipped the deadbolt locked.“That won’t stop Loppa.He’s an expert lock picker, but?—”
“Shut up and follow me before they miss us.”Ellie dragged me down the stairs by the tie.
She kicked off her shoes and flopped onto the largest sofa.
I slid my hand under the yards of lace.Finally, I found the top of her stockings.She wore a garter belt at the top.With a little flick, I snapped the band against her skin.Then I forgot about teasing her and lifted the mass of delicate lace and the flesh toned skirting high enough to duck under.
My wife wasn’t wearing underwear.
And she tasted good.
“You’re not getting me pregnant doing that.”Her fingers tightened in my hair, telling me she wasn’t as unaffected as she tried to sound.
Yet, if she could talk, I wasn’t doing this right either.I spread her legs wider and flicked my tongue against her clit while fighting the fabric that threatened to smother me.I freed a hand to push up her skirts, and she took the opportunity to wrap her legs around my head.
I was trapped and loving every minute of it.It was a pleasure to trace through the intricacies of my wife’s pussy with my tongue.
My wife’s… wow.It was finally real.
That would take some getting used to.Me, the consummate bachelor, the guy tasked with getting in and out without entanglements or complications, had hung up his spurs, settled into a quieter life of business and neighbors, and I embraced the ever-expanding circle of friends my wife attracted like a magpie.She was my North Star, my joy, and an unexpected gift.
Her gasps grew louder and the fluttering of her pleasure was sweet to taste.I drew my tongue across her clit once more to test her patience.
“Stop.”
“Stop?”Her skin was flushed and the meticulous wedding updo was falling apart.
