Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
While they work in the kitchen, I head back to the living room with my coffee. I sit back on the sofa and feed Owen, letting the caffeine do its job. Once he’s finished, I burp him and walk into the kitchen to refill my coffee cup.
All is calm and quiet until Molly starts screaming “Gamma!” at the top of her lungs. Seth grabs the tablet off the counter, checks the screen, and frowns as he hits “accept.”
“Good morning, sweetpea!” My mother’s smiling face appears on the screen.
Molly climbs into Seth’s lap, clutching her bunny, and waves at the laptop screen. “Hi, Gamma! Hi, Gampa! I made a pancake dinosaur and he’s gonna eat the world!” She jams a syrup-soaked pancake chunk right up to the camera. “SEE?”
Dad lets out a real laugh, sharp and unfiltered. “Looks delicious, pumpkin. You did a wonderful job.”
I shoot a glance at Seth, who’s fighting a smile.
“We can’t wait to see you at the lake house next weekend,” Mom chimes in, which is her way of reminding me we promised to spend the whole weekend at their vacation place.
Things have changed so much in the last three years. At first, my parents were pissed when we did a quickie courthouse wedding instead of a big fancy thing. Then I got pregnant, and their attitudes started shifting.
The day Molly was born, I saw a whole new side of my parents. An actual human side. My mother cried, seriously cried, the first time she held Molly.
Now, things are a thousand times better with them. Don’t get me wrong—they’re still self-obsessed and impossible to take in large doses. But they’ve accepted my life choices.
Now that they’ve stopped trying to control me, they have the time and energy to torture my brother. My mother’s new pet project is finding my brother the perfect political wife. Poor Ben. I almost feel bad for him.
“Is Ben bringing his new girlfriend next weekend? I’m dying to meet her.” And watch my brother squirm for once.
“He is.” My mother practically vibrates with excitement. “I want everything to be perfect. Do you have time to go over the plans with me?” Leave it to my mother to plan a family vacation down to the nth degree.
“Sure,” I tell her, and watch as Seth cleans up Molly’s hands. While I get out my notebook to take notes, my husband settles Molly on the sofa with her favorite cartoon playing on the large screen television and places Owen in the swing so he can clean the kitchen.
By the time I end my call, both kids are sound asleep, which gives me a bright idea.
I find Seth in the laundry room sorting a load of laundry. My husband’s back is to me, and I nearly drool watching his delicious ass move in those gray sweatpants. I can’t help but bite my lip as I watch him bend over the washing machine, shoving a tangled mess of clothes inside. “Hey,” I whisper as I walk over to him.
“Get everything planned for next weekend?” he asks, his voice low and distracted. He turns and pulls me into his arms, and I can feel his hardness pressing into my stomach.
My hands slide around his waist, my fingers gripping the soft fabric of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath it. As I press my body against his, my tits squish against his chest, and my nipples harden instantly. “I did,” I murmur, my breath hot against his neck.
But I’m not here to talk about weekend plans. My hand drifts lower, sliding down the front of his body, tracing the hard lines of his abdomen until I reach the waistband of his sweatpants. I don’t hesitate. My fingers slip beneath the fabric and find he’s already hard. His cock throbs against my palm, hot and eager as I give it a firm squeeze. A low groan escapes his lips.
“The kids are down for the count,” I whisper, leaning in closer, my lips brushing against his jaw. My hand moves with purpose now, stroking him through his sweatpants, teasing the length of his cock until he’s practically panting. “And I want to suck your cock until you see stars.”
He groans again, louder this time, and leans back against the washing machine, his hips thrusting into my hand. “Fuck. That sounds good to me,” he growls, his voice thick with desire.
I drop to my knees in front of him. The tile is cold and unforgiving against my skin, but I don’t care. My focus is entirely on my husband and the way his cock strains against his sweatpants, begging for release. I hook my fingers into the waistband and pull them down slowly, revealing the full length of him.
Damn. He’s perfect. Thick and veiny, his cock juts out from a thatch of dark hair, the tip already glistening with wetness. I lick my lips, my mouth watering at the sight of him. I don’t waste time.