Chapter 23
Caleb
“No missed calls or texts from Tess, so I assume that means she made it through the night fine with all three kids,” Nash says as he rolls over to check his phone, his voice still scratchy with sleep.
It’s terrifying to let your kid go anywhere for the night, period. But letting him stay with your boyfriend’s ex-wife who you’ve only met once, who you’re trusting not just with bedtime, but with your whole heart wrapped up in a third grader’s body? That’s next-level vulnerability.
Last night, I thought I’d be a wreck. I thought I’d lie awake obsessively checking my phone, worried sick about him. But between the party, the drinks, and Nash making me come twice with his hands on me and his cock in me, I was too worn out to be stressed.
Sam has a basic phone without internet, so he knows how to reach me if he needs anything. Since I hadn’t heard from him last night, I text him while we’re still in bed.
You doing okay, bud? How was your night?
I watch the screen for a minute, waiting until he texts back.
Sam:
It was so fun! I want to have more sleepovers!
I let out a breath and laugh softly. “Well, that answers that question.”
Nash turns toward me, one arm tucked behind his head. “Good news?”
“Sam says he wants to have more sleepovers. I guess Tess survived, and he had fun.”
“Didn’t doubt her.” He grins and pulls me back into him in bed. “Told you it’d be okay. She’s a great mom.”
I nuzzle into him a little, letting the tension I hadn’t even realized I was holding bleed out of me. “Alright. Now that I’m feeling better, we can order room service.”
He kisses the side of my head. “Good. You earned breakfast in bed, baby. You were incredible last night.”
I smile at his praise as he grabs the menu from the desk in the room. We look through it, settling on coffee and the classic breakfast with eggs, toast, hash browns, and bacon.
Nash calls while I slide back against the pillows. He orders, murmurs confirmations, and then hangs up, pulling me closer to him.
The next thing I register is a knock at the door and the sound of Nash’s bare feet hitting the floor.
“Room service!” someone calls brightly from the hall.
Nash grabs a pair of sweatpants from his bag, pulling them up over his hips. He opens the door, his bare back to me. He takes the food and thanks the person.
“Sir, your feast has arrived,” he announces, that familiar cocky grin tugging at his lips as he turns and rolls the cart into the room.
I sit up, laughing. “Thank you kindly.”
He climbs back into bed, placing the tray of food in front of us. He reaches for a slice of bacon, still shirtless, and smirks at me with his bedhead and stupidly kissable mouth. When he’s done chewing, he pours our coffees in the white porcelain hotel mugs while I start to eat.
“So…” I break the silence after a few bites. “Did I pass the boyfriend-at-a-work-party test?”
Nash looks up from his coffee with a mock-serious expression. “You did more than pass. You’re hired for the gig full-time if you’d like it,” he says, then cracks a grin.
“Benefits include…?”
“Unlimited snuggles. Occasional hotel stays. Complimentary kids’ sleepovers, schedule permitting. And a boyfriend who fucks you just how you like, every time.”
“That’s a pretty solid package,” I say, leaning back against the headboard. “Hmm, tempting.”
“Unless you have other offers.”
I shake my head. “Not a one.”
He laughs, pulling me forward into a quick kiss.
“I accept, of course.” I grin.
No part of me understands how I got this lucky with Nash. He’s kind and caring, and everything I’ve dreamed of—both in bed and in the rest of my life.
I’m all in with him.
We eat the last bites of breakfast, and he shows me a photo Tess just sent him of the kids building a blanket fort in the living room. Sam’s face is lit up with joy, and my chest aches with how much I miss him.
“It looks like they had a great time,” I say, smiling.
“It sure does.” Nash taps the screen, saving the photo before setting the phone down. “Ready to head out and go see them?”
“Yeah. It’s only been a night, but I miss him.”
“I understand that. Let’s shower quickly before we head out.”
I nod, and Nash goes into the bathroom, turning the water on before I join him.
We step in, and the warmth hits me instantly. I let the water wash over my face and shoulders, feeling the tinge of soreness in my thighs and back from my position last night. Nash reaches for my waist, pulling me back against his chest as his lips brush the curve of my neck.
“Sore?” he asks.
“Little bit,” I admit with a quiet laugh. “But it’s a good sore.”
“Yeah?” He noses behind my ear. “What about here?” His hands slide down to my hips, his fingers grazing the inside of my thighs until they grip my dick. “Still needy?”
I bite my lip and nod, leaning my head back against his shoulder. “Always needy for you.”
“Want me to make you come one more time before we go home?”
I groan, because I do. Of course I do. I always want Nash’s hands on me.
“Yes, touch me.”
Nash pours some body wash into his palm, rubs it between his hands until it’s slick and warm, then presses a kiss to the back of my neck. “Turn around.”
I do, and he pulls me in until our chests are nearly touching. He nudges one foot between mine to make more space, and then his hand wraps around both of our cocks.
The sensation is immediate. Hot, tight, perfect. I groan, bracing myself with one hand on his shoulder, the other against the slippery tile beside us as he strokes us together in his strong, steady grip.
“Feel good?” he asks.
“Fuck, Nash,” I breathe, already thrusting into his fist, chasing the friction. “So good.”
He leans in, mouth skimming my jaw, his free hand gripping my hip to keep me close. “I love watching you fall apart for me, baby. You’re so fucking pretty when you come.”
I’m so close already, I’m shaking as the water continues pounding around us. Our skin is slick and hot, sliding together in a perfect rhythm.
“Nash. Gonna come,” I grit out, seconds before I finally let go. My hips jerk forward, chasing his hand, and a strangled sound tears from my throat as I spill across his hand and stomach.
Nash doesn’t stop. He keeps going until he’s groaning too, forehead pressed to mine, coming with a low, broken sound that sends another ripple of heat down my spine.
He captures my mouth mid-groan, and it’s such a messy, depraved kiss with so much tongue. It’s everything. The definition of passion.
“You good?” he checks after he pulls away and catches his breath.
“Yeah,” I say, blinking up at him with a dazed smile. “I think you just scrambled my brain. That was amazing.”
“Good.” He laughs and kisses me quicker this time. “Let’s rinse off. Then we can get out of here.”
We finish the shower, then a few minutes later, we’re dressed, packed up, and ready to head to the kids.
By the time we’re in the car, I’m clean, warm, and still carrying the buzz of being wanted so thoroughly. Nash keeps one hand on the wheel and the other on my thigh as we drive toward Tess’s neighborhood. His thumb rubs slow, absent circles against my jeans.
It’s everything I could have ever wanted.
“Hey, Cay?” he says, glancing at me briefly before looking back at the road.
“Yeah?” I turn slightly in my seat.
“I was thinking…” He pauses. “I’d really enjoy doing Christmas with you and Sam. What do you think about that?”
My chest tightens in the best kind of way. I wasn’t sure if we were there yet; we’ve only known each other for a few weeks, but somehow it just feels right. Everything about him and us feels right.
“I’d love to,” I say, meaning every word. “Are you sure?”
“Very sure,” he says, giving my thigh a squeeze. “I want this to be real. I want the tree, the chaos of opening presents, the matching pajamas with the kids—if you’ll humor me—the whole thing.”
A soft laugh escapes me. “I can’t think of anything I’d enjoy more. I haven't done a holiday like that in a long time.”
“Then we’ll start new traditions,” Nash says easily. “I’ll talk to Tess today—see what the schedule looks like and how we can make it work.”
“Okay,” I agree, voice a little thick. “Thank you for asking.”
“Thank you for saying yes.”