Beth emerges from her dressing room carrying her wedding day surprise for Reed. She smiles at us. “We going?”
I give the boys each a quick kiss, grinning so big my cheeks hurt.
“You two are. Mommy’s doing a little shopping.”
THE WHITE LACE PANTY AND matching bra set I’m standing in is doing wonders for my curves, and my tan.
My skin looks even more sun kissed than it does after I’ve spent a full day at the pool with the boys. My breasts are pushed up high on my chest, doubling my normal cleavage size.
I’m certain Ben will have no problem with this . . . development. I suddenly look like I’m still breastfeeding.
Sheesh. He was a maniac that first year. I’m not sure who was more starved for my chest. Chase or Ben.
I run my finger over the ruffles along my hip, loving the overall delicate look and feel to this set. Still unbelievably sexy, but soft.
Understated. I like that.
Spinning in front of the mirror, I glance over my shoulder and blush a little at the sight of my bare ass. I stand on my toes and pop my hip to watch it jiggle.
Mm. Maybe I won’t make Ben wait until tomorrow . . .
Blowing out a quick breath, I reach for my shorts on the small bench and dig out my phone.
I’ve sent my fair share of dirty pictures to Ben. He always responds with something equally vulgar, words I’ll read over and over until I’m trembling against my hand, dropping my phone and panting his name. The moment he sees me, he’ll pull up whatever it is I sent him and we’ll both look at it while he beats into me from behind.
Maybe this is cruel, since I know we won’t have that time together tonight. I’ll get him hard and leave him even more frustrated, but we’ll have tomorrow. He doesn’t know it, but I’m going to make up for every interrupted opportunity tomorrow.
Every. Single. One.
Pushing my hair off my shoulders, I lean forward a little and snap an up-close shot of my breasts, my hand squeezing one of them. I attach the photo to a message.
Me: Yours.
After setting my phone down, I unclasp the bra and slide it off my shoulders. I step out of the panties and grab the other ensemble I brought back to try on, a black sheer babydoll.
The silk slides over my skin, clinging to my hips and brushing against the top of my thighs.
I run my hands over my stomach as I stare at myself in the full length mirror.
I like this one too. Again, massive boob appeal. My legs look never ending. Plus, I love how soft it is against my skin.
I palm my phone again, studying the screen and waiting for Ben’s reply.
It never comes.
Maybe he’s busy?
After tossing my phone back onto my pile of clothes, I glance at the tag, then do a quick calculation of the two outfits together while tapping my finger on my lip.
When was the credit card paid? Two, three weeks ago? I should be able to charge both, right?
“Mia?”
My head snaps to the right. I stare at the closed door concealing me, the bottom stopping at the floor. I’m completely hidden.
He’s here.
My stomach flips wildly.
“Ben?” I whisper. Twisting the knob, I pull the door open an inch.
His dark blue uniform is the first thing I see, stretching wondrously across his broad chest and shoulders, then his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing thickly.
Why that makes me wet, I have no idea.
My gaze moves over the sharp angle of his jaw, dusted in light stubble, and as I lift my head and our eyes lock, the last thing I see is the hunger sparking there, his irises practically vibrating with need before he pushes the door open and pins me against the mirror.
“The boys,” he growls, slamming the door shut, ducking his head and nipping at my jaw, his large hands grabbing my hips and squeezing. His chest heaving, pressing hurriedly against mine, pushing me higher and higher up the mirror until my feet come off the floor.
My head rolls back with a gasp. “Tessa has them. They went to get ice cream.”
“Jesus. That picture, Mia. I’ve never driven so fast in my fucking life.”
He roughly kisses me, burning my jaw with his stubble but I hardly care.
I slide my tongue into his mouth and grip his biceps, digging my nails into his hard muscle.
We kiss and kiss and kiss, until my head is spinning, until I can’t see or feel or taste anything besides Ben.
Only Ben.
“I need you. Fucking need this. I can’t breathe,” he says.
I moan and fall limp into his arms.
He’s here. It still isn’t sinking in that Ben’s touching me, that his hands are roaming down my back and pulling up the material of my lingerie, grabbing my ass, the hard line of his cock pressing against my stomach while he licks and sucks my neck, while he hitches my legs around his waist and drops his hand between us, working at his belt.
He’s here. He should be at work. He should be out patrolling with Luke. And instead he’s initiating public sex . . .
This never happens.