Or at least a new pair of jeans and some panties that didn’t have holes in them.
I spent the evening playing with Lizzie in her playroom, which was bigger than my bedroom. Talk about extravagance. Her playroom looked like a branch of Toys-R-Us. She had every toy imaginable, even toys that were meant for much older kids. I made a mental note to go through them at some point and put some of them away in storage until she was old enough to enjoy them.
I bathed Lizzie and put her to bed at eight. I had never bathed a child before in my life. I somehow ended up soaking wet with soap in my hair and eyes.
Lizzie cackled as I made a show of spitting out bubbles and shaking my head. She was a glorious child.
It was easy to see why her father loved her so.
Mr. Ritter—Jackson, he told me to call him—left us alone to bond but checked on us throughout the evening. When I went to bed at nine, he was locked in his study working.
I tossed and turned until midnight. I was tired, but my body was still on my old schedule. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand.
I’d just be getting off work about now.
I’d grab a taco or a burger to eat on the way home, and then I would stay up until two or three, struggling with the accounting courses.
It was no wonder I was wide awake.
My body was still on “old life” time.
My stomach growled.
I thought of the leftover takeout chicken we’d had for dinner in the refrigerator downstairs.
My stomach growled again.
I swear it said, “FEED ME!”
I tried to ignore it, but it was no use. I knew my stomach. If I didn’t feed the monster, it would keep me up all night.
I pushed back the covers and tiptoed to the door.
I had on a long nightshirt that came almost to my knees, with no panties. It was what I always slept in. My mom always said, “A girl’s cooch needs airing out at night.” I know. With motherly advice like that, it was no wonder I turned out to be such a train wreck.
I didn’t own a robe, but I figured I’d be the only one up at this hour, so it wouldn’t be a big deal to sneak downstairs without getting dressed.
I eased into the hallway and started toward the stairs at the other end. All the lights were out except for a nightlight burning at the end of the hall.
I tiptoed to Lizzie’s room. Her door was ajar. I peeked inside to see her sleeping with her binkie tucked under her chin and a thumb in her mouth.
Jackson’s room was the last one on the right. His door was open a crack, probably so he could hear Lizzie if she called out during the night. I was easing past his door when I thought I heard him moan. I froze in my tracks. Was he sick? Was the takeout chicken coming back to haunt him?
I peered through the crack in the door.
The room was dark except for the glow of the moon shining through the windows.
Jackson was lying on the bed.
The moonlight bathed his body in a warm glow.
The covers were kicked off.
He was naked.
His hand was wrapped around his stiff cock.
He was slowly moving it up and down his shaft.
I felt a lump lodge in my throat. I knew I should have backed away from the door and retreated to my room, but my feet refused to move.
I felt my nipples go hard beneath the thin material of my nightshirt.
I felt a dampness between my legs that I hadn’t felt in a long time.
My mouth was suddenly dry.
I wet my lips and watched Jackson’s hand slide up and down the length of his cock.
I couldn’t tear myself away from the door.
Nor could I resist the heat that was building inside me like a volcano preparing to erupt.
I couldn’t tell if Jackson was awake or asleep.
He was on his back, his cock standing up from his dark pubes, straight and thick and tall.
It was more than a handful.
His eyes were closed.
His mouth was open.
I could hear him breathing now, panting as his hand moved up and down.
I cupped my left breast and rubbed a finger across my hard nipple.
I could feel the juices flowing hot between my legs.
I slid a hand down my stomach and pressed my fingers to my clit under the nightshirt.
A low moan escaped my lips.
I tugged up the tail of the nightshirt so my fingers could find my pussy. I dipped my fingers into the folds to get them wet, and then I rolled my clit between my fingers.
I watched him milk his big cock as I bent my knees and slid two fingers inside myself. I matched his rhythm. Each time his hand went up to the head of his cock, I imagined his cock sliding out of me. Each time his hand slid back to the base of the shaft, I slid my fingers deep inside my pussy, imagining his cock buried deep inside me.
His hand started to move faster.
I could see the muscles in his legs tighten.
He clutched the sheet beside him with his free hand.
I was fingering myself to the point of coming with him.
I heard him suck in a deep breath.
He raised his ass off the bed.