It was Sunday. Yesterday I’d had my day with Clarisse. This ended with Clarisse and Fin in the living room at the farm in front of a movie Fin rented and me playing video games with Kirby in his room so they’d have privacy. Rhonda, as usual, was hanging out in her room.
But Mike called this morning with the excellent news that No was unexpectedly off with some buds doing something and Rees was at some girlfriend’s house likely talking non-stop about how awesome Finley Holliday was.
Or I hoped so.
On Thursday, I had opened the door and Fin didn’t saunter through. He charged. Study-time, dinner and TV-time with Clarisse at the farm on Thursday. He went to dinner at Mike’s on Friday then left before Scary Movie Friday Night commenced. She came over for dinner and a movie last night. I was surprised today he hadn’t claimed her. Maybe he was trying to play it cool. Or maybe she’d had these plans with her girlfriend for a while and he didn’t want to cut in. Or maybe she was at her friend’s but they were texting non-stop because she didn’t feel she could cancel to be with Fin but they were still connecting.
The way I saw he’d snuggled her into him last night on the couch when I was on my way to the kitchen to get Kirb and me refills on drinks, my guess was door three.
Whatever way, it left Mike’s house free for hours and he wanted me over for “sandwiches”.
I hightailed it across the field without delay. It was lunchtime but we had yet to eat.
“I think you need to feed me,” I informed him and he lifted his head.
His eyes caught mine and his were warm, sated. Mike had beautiful eyes but they were never more beautiful than after we’d made love, he was still inside me, his body covering mine at the same time mine was wrapped around his and his eyes told me there was no place he’d prefer to be.
“I need to install a mini-kitchen in my walk-in closet,” he replied and there it was in his voice.
His eyes after we made love were never more beautiful, the same with his deep voice. It went lower, soft but rough at the same time silky. It was hard to describe. You had to hear it and with him on me and still in me, feel it.
That was the best.
“Well, until that day happens, I’m afraid we’re going to have to make the trek to the kitchen,” I returned and he grinned.
That was even better.
Then he slid out, which sucked. What didn’t suck was he rolled us both off the bed to our feet then he put a hand in my ass and gave me a slight push toward the bathroom.
He did this while muttering, “I’ll get you a tee.”
This surprised me.
It was one o’clock Sunday afternoon on a weekend when he had his kids. Mike was making sure they knew I was in his life, thus theirs. He was also slowly introducing them to PDA, beginning to give me lip touches, pulling me into him if we were watching TV on the couch, running his fingers along my waist or hip if we were both in the kitchen. But the depth of our intimacy he didn’t share in any way. No tongues. No making out. No stand up or sit down close cuddles.
So me in a tee with his kids in town and technically “at home” even though in reality they weren’t was surprising.
I headed to the bathroom, calling out my question, “So I take it the kids aren’t home for a while.”
“Rees is back at five for dinner. No is having pizza with his buds,” Mike called back in answer. “No won’t be home until at least seven,” he concluded.
Lots of time.
Excellent.
I cleaned up and wandered to my undies. I pulled them up and when I straightened, Mike was there with his tee. He had on a pair of jeans, all but the top button done up. When I yanked the tee on and he took my hand and led me to the closed doors, I realized he wasn’t just not done finishing his buttons, he didn’t intend to finish. Nor did he intend to don a tee.
Something about that was seriously hot. Then again, that was how Mike tended to be.
Out we went and once we’d cleared the door we had Layla jumping around us and whining. Then, possibly sensing our destination with doggie acuity, her excitement increased. Mike didn’t disappoint. When we hit the kitchen, he hit the cupboard and pulled out a long, thin, twisted rawhide. He tossed it into the hall and Layla scrambled after it. But once retrieved, she returned to the kitchen, settled in and started gnawing.
Double duty, Layla got a treat and Layla got busy not under our feet.
Mike went to the fridge, opened it and assumed the Universal Man Pose of standing and staring in it. Considering my experience with The Pose was that it went on for a while, I went to the counter and pulled myself up to sitting on it.
“Roast beef, chicken, turkey, swiss, munster, cheddar, mayo, horseradish, American mustard, dijon mustard, white and rye,” he called it down, finishing, “Or, peanut butter and jelly and I think we’ve got tuna.”
“Definitely the fridge of a family,” I muttered, grinning and he turned his head, his eyes coming to me.