Hold On

I gave his neck a squeeze and said nothing.

“Don’t know which I prefer—my good girl or when she’s bad.”

I felt my lips curl up as my eyelids lowered.

He didn’t miss it.

“She likes to be bad,” he said softly and approvingly. “Gonna test that, Cherie.”

I again made no verbal reply, but he felt my shiver and that was when his lips curled up.

His hands left my head so he could wrap his arms around me as he declared, “You’re right.”

Finally, I spoke.

“About what?”

“This is workin’ great.”

I could actually feel myself melting in his arms, and I knew it was melting even though I’d never done anything like that in my entire life.

“Merry,” I whispered.

“You’re all I said you were and you give great head?” His lip curl turned into a cocky smile. “Definitely workin’ great.”

I sighed in fake annoyance. “A man and his blowjobs.”

“Babe, the act? Awesome,” he stated. “You grabbin’ my hand practically before I could get in your door and draggin’ me to your bedroom so you could shove me on your bed and get your mouth on my dick?” His hold on me tightened slightly. “Awesome.”

“You have a great cock,” I shared.

His hips shifted and his smile didn’t get any less cocky. “It likes you too.”

“Thank God,” I muttered.

He kept smiling, but he did it gently pulling me off him.

He put me on my feet as he straightened from the bed.

“Gonna use your john, then I’m gonna go,” he said. “After that, less than an hour, Cher.”

I nodded.

“Dig Ethan, like spendin’ time with him. But I want my good girl and my bad one all to me again. While I’m away, want you to think on finding us that time and soon, you hear me?”

I nodded again, back to feeling warm and squishy because he was wasting no time letting me know he wanted more of me.

He shifted and I knew he was adjusting his jeans even as he ordered, “Now kiss me.”

I got up on my toes, leaned in, hands to his chest, head tipped back, and I kissed my guy.

It was wet but short.

When he was done, he bent, nabbed my pajama shorts and panties, and handed them to me.

But after I put them on and before he walked out of my room, he bent to touch his lips to my nose.

God.

Merry.

“Less than an hour,” he said softly, then I watched him walk away.

I did it thinking that was mine. All that tall, lean handsomeness. His big dick. Him making my son (and me) waffles. Him wanting my ass in a booth with him at Frank’s so he could show the whole ’burg he was claiming me.

That was all mine.

Forty whole hours, that had been mine.

And I hadn’t fucked it up.

A record.

A record I was going to keep breaking.

Maybe for eternity.

*

Garrett

Garrett’s phone started ringing before he let himself in his apartment after taking Cher out to lunch at Frank’s, going back to her place and hanging on her couch (mostly making out) until her kid got home, then hanging with Ethan and her until she had to start getting ready for work.

He left her to it.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t hitting J&J’s later that night for a drink.

He pulled his phone out on that thought, doing it smiling.

He took the call still smiling.

“Yo, Rocky,” he greeted his sister.

“So, let me see,” she said in his ear. “Swank’s Thursday night. A freaking Bulldogs game on Friday. Frank’s four hours ago.”

He tossed his keys on the bar and started to shrug out of his jacket. “Apparently, ’burg’s buzzing.”

“‘Buzzing’ is not the word for it. They haven’t had anything this juicy since…” she trailed off, probably trying to think about when they’d had something that juicy.

But he already knew. “Since you and Tanner sorted your shit.”