Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“Yeah?”
He nodded and eased back enough to face me. “I think you wanna do more than you’re ready for, so maybe we should put a lid on the physical stuffs until you’ve talked to Mister Rigger.”
I furrowed my brow. Had I done something—
“I don’t think you’re forcing yourself to do anything,” he was quick to add. “But I’m wondering if maybe you need more cuddling than fingers up my butt.”
I exhaled a laugh, never sure of what he was gonna say. But if he was referring to where I’d had my hands before, that was a version of cuddling for me—and I was definitely ready for more of that.
That said, he had a point.
“You’re right in that I may be more sensitive to disruptions right now,” I started off by saying. “If the mood isn’t perfect, I ain’t pushin’ it. For instance, revving you up for the sake of James catching us…? We’ll see how that goes.” I gripped his chin and leaned in. “But I stick my fingers where I please, okay? And I’m particularly drawn to this one brat with the cutest little bottom—maybe you know him. He’s incredibly sweet, considerate, generous, and sexy. He also makes the best monkey bread I’ve ever had.”
The sheepish grin on that boy could bring an army to its knees, I was sure of it. And how he tried to bury his face, how he squirmed, and the silent “aw, shucks” that lingered in the air…
I chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Never stop being you, sweetheart. I appreciate you wanting what’s best for me.”
He nodded against my neck.
“Are you shy, baby boy?”
He huffed a little. “I’m never shy.”
I grinned and cupped his butt in my hands, inside the pajamas. “Except for when Daddy asks you to come out to Mclean. And when your brat buddies ask you to come out to Mclean. And when—”
“I get it!” he giggled and poked my side.
I laughed and gathered his hands between us instead. “But you still make plans. You signed up for Nathan’s rope demo on the seventh. You signed up both James and yourself to attend the ball. You paid the membership fees without even telling him.”
Boy got huffy again. “I can’t help that my impulsiveness is attached to my credit card. And also…I’m very ambitious two months in advance. Wanna go skydiving in two months? Heck yeah! Then, the day before, that ain’t happening.”
I felt my shoulders tremble with laughter, and he finally inched back from his hiding spot with a cheeky grin.
“With some exceptions,” he added. “I know that I never, ever wanna go running with you and James in the mornings.”
Oh, James barely wanted that either, but he’d asked me to drag him out when I had time. More often than not, we opted for golf or gym time.
“You’re a real Sportypants,” he told me. “James said you’ve tried a million sports over the years.”
“James isn’t the type of man who will throw out a million unless he’s telling me the story of when youse visited the Arctic Circle and were attacked by mosquitoes.”
He widened his eyes. “We saw a bajillion of them! Locals were like, silly Americans, don’t come here in the summer. Well, excuse me for having the midnight sun on my bucket list.”
I grinned.
“But don’t derail me, Mister,” he added quickly. “Were you a jock in school?”
I tipped my head, weighing the answer. “Maybe half a jock? I played football, but it wasn’t my whole identity. I wasn’t working toward a scholarship or tanking my mediocre grades to spend more time on the field.”
He pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully. “That tracks. What’s your favorite sport?” He put a hand over his heart. “Mine is testing hamburgers and reviewing them. And live tracking the migration of some birds, naturally.”
“Naturally,” I laughed. “My favorite sports are the ones I can participate in with my kids. Following my beloved Philly teams aside—and religiously keeping track of our national teams in various sports—it’s more about something that we can do together.”
“Like playing golf with Dylan?”
“Like playing golf with Dylan.” I inclined my head. “Mikey’s apparently taken an interest in chess, so that’ll be fun to get involved in.”
“And Hallie plays soccer, correct?”
Was this really what he wanted to be doing? Talking about my kids?
“She used to,” I said. “She quit recently in order to focus on her grades. Now she goes swimming with Nate and Dylan sometimes. Or she goes running with me.”
Man, I missed those days. As a family, we’d tried everything. We’d mixed things up. From shooting hoops to shooting arrows, from throwing footballs to throwing darts. Swimming, soccer, golf, drone racing, orienteering, skiing, snowboarding, diving, baseball, climbing, bouldering…
I sighed.
Jordan was about to say something, but two knocks on the door cut him off before the first word was out. James was here. And Jordan didn’t look freshly fucked at all.