Yes!
The string let loose and I had him in my hand. Stroking him in a tight fist was all I needed. He slid the elastic to my stupid smart panties aside. His fingers glided through my wet folds—and I didn’t even realize I was wet until he touched me there. I moaned and lifted myself around his waist. He either had to hold me, or drop me. He held me.
“Fuck me, Paxton,” I begged in his mouth. He kissed me hard while he tried to talk himself out of it. I shifted a little and guided him to me. I broke the kiss and we panted, staring into each other’s eyes while I rode out the feel of him. He entered me inch by inch.
I whimpered a little, trying to remain quiet.
I had anticipated this day from the moment I laid eyes on him, but not like this. I was in no way prepared for it. Our naughtiness and the sensations it caused were explosive, and I knew Paxton felt it, too. It showed in the way his gaze penetrated mine, the way his hands tenderly explored my body, and the expression of wonder on his handsome face. Like it was our first time.
“I don’t want to get pregnant,” I whispered while I rocked on his hips. I didn’t want him to stop or have him just pull out.
Paxton snorted with a half grin. “Shut the fuck up,” he ordered as he held my ass and turned me toward the bathroom sink. I barely noticed the cold tile blanketing my ass. His lips caressed my shoulder while he moved in and out of me.
Even though I knew I was probably crossing a line, I did it anyway. I pulled back, explored his astonished expression, and then my gaze dropped to the action. I parted my lips and moaned a little, watching Paxton move in and out of me. He put on a little show after that, gyrating his hips into me, pulling completely out and shoving back in. I didn’t mind a bit. I loved the way he showed off.
“Faster,” I panted.
“Shh, don’t talk,” Paxton ordered while doing exactly what I told him to do. He pumped faster, harder, and deeper, until I tumbled over the top. His hand covered my scream and his body trembled while deep inside of me, riding out his own waves.
For a brief second, I felt something in the way he looked at me. A trance with some sort of emotional pull kept our gazes locked until a realization hit him, like he’d just come to his senses or something.
“Hurry back.” Paxton took my hand, helped me to the floor and left me there all alone.
“Jesus H. Christ!” I exclaimed as I spun toward the mirror and combed my messy, sex hair with my fingers. What the fuck was that?
I cleaned his come from my body, trying like hell to push it all out. I didn’t want a baby with him. Well, not anymore babies. Once I had gotten myself cleaned up, I walked out, still breathing hard.
“You look a little flushed, Gabby. Everything okay?”
I halted midstep, glanced up, and met Lane’s cold gaze. “Um, yeah. Fine. Thanks.”
“Hey,” Lane said in a quiet tone, his hand taking my wrist as I tried to pass
Standing that close, I could tell his eyes were more sad than upset. “Yeah?”
“You don’t remember me? At all?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t. I remember that you’re Candace’s husband.”
Lane released a puff of air and let me go. “Probably for the better.”
I didn’t even respond. Nope. Didn’t want to know. I walked out to the gang. Paxton was in the pool, tossing Ophelia in the air. Everyone else still played badminton. Nobody had even missed us.
Except Lane.
“I sent you like five messages yesterday,” Candace said with a smile as she joined me, taking the seat to my left.
“You did? I don’t really check it much these days, I guess,” I confessed while looking around for my purse. Sure enough she did. My phone had never rang before.
“Maybe next week,” she offered as I read the words. Candace wanted me to have lunch with her. I almost said I wouldn’t be allowed, but I didn’t. Paxton didn’t show that vibe in public. Only in private, and only to me. I could tell from the short time I had been around them that they envied me. Envied our relationship.
If they only knew.
“Paxton says you’re cleared to drive. Maybe we’ll take the girls to Bobos this week.”
“Bobos?” I asked while my finger searched my phone for answers. Nothing. I had eleven contacts. Paxton being first. Most of them were extracurricular activities, my neighbors, the dentist, and a pediatrician. That’s it. My life was centered on my girls and my husband.
“You have to remember Bobos. You hate it there. Ophelia loves it. Her favorite thing ever.”
“What is it?”
“Games. Stupid games where they win long rows of tickets and win stupid prizes, mostly noise makers.”
I laughed. “Sounds like fun. I’m in.”