All in December

Nash

The smell of cinnamon hits me before I even open my eyes. I shift in bed, reaching out, but the space next to me is empty, and the sheets are cold. I hear movement down the hall, followed by laughter, and it all comes back to me.

Caleb staying the night with the kids knowing, and us making homemade cinnamon rolls before bed. And apparently, he let me sleep in this morning while he wrangled the children, which is a major luxury and deserving of another brutal fucking, like I know he craves.

I wish we’d gotten to wake up like we did at the hotel, but knowing he came down my throat last night is still satisfying, even if I didn’t get to fuck him against a window wall for all of Denver to see.