26. Rosie
26
ROSIE
The shower runs in the adjacent bathroom. As tired as I am, I should be fast asleep, not thinking about a very naked and wet Daire only a few feet away.
I take a deep breath and start counting backward from one hundred.
I’m only at eighty-seven when the shower cuts off.
An audible whimper leaves my lips.
The bathroom door opens, and a billow of steam wafts out.
I squeeze my eyes closed tight and hold my breath.
I will not look.
I will not look.
I will?—
I look.
Abs for days—slick and wet. I want to run my grubby hands over every inch. I’m salivating for him. For Daire of all people. Only weeks ago, I still hated his guts, but here we are.
I roll over, forcing myself to resist the temptation to keep staring.
The towel rustles, then it lands with a soft thud on the floor.
God help me.
Pulling the covers up, I burrow down beneath them.
He pads around to the other side of the bed, and as he climbs in, I finally crack my eyes open.
“You’re wearing boxers?” I blurt.
He rumbles with laughter. “I didn’t know if you’d appreciate me sleeping naked.”
“Good point,” I squeak.
I’m acting like a nervous, scared virgin, when that’s the furthest thing from the truth.
But thinking about having sex with Daire makes me feel like one.
“I want to touch you,” he confesses, his warm hand landing on my hip. “But the things I want to do to you… they’ll have to wait. Though…” He brushes over the band of my pajama shorts. “There are other things I could do to you. But only if you can be quiet. Do you want that?”
I nod, way too eagerly based on the laugh that leaves him. His breath is warm when he leans in and kisses my neck.
He slips his fingers beneath the fabric of my shorts and panties, skimming over my pussy.
I press my lips together, stifling a whimper.
“Fuck, Rosie.” He presses another kiss to my neck. “You’re so wet already. Were you laying here thinking about me while I was in the shower?”
I give a jerky nod in answer and suppress a moan.
“Mm,” he hums. “Were you thinking about me naked?”
Another nod, my heart racing.
“Was I stroking myself?”
Heat pools in my core as I nod again.
“Words, Rosie. You’re going to have to start talking to me.”
“Y-Yes,” I stutter, tipping my head back to give him better access to my neck.
“In this fantasy, did I shout your name when I came?”
“I-I didn’t get that far.”
He slips just the tips of two fingers past my entrance. Just a tease. I wiggle my hips for more, but it does no good. With my bottoms still on and his body against mine I have no room to move.
“The things I want to do to you,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over mine.
I arch back, begging for more. “Do it.”
He pushes his fingers in another inch. “In time, Rosie. In time.”
Finally, he works his fingers in and out of me, pulling all logical thought from me. All I can do is feel. He presses his thumb against my clit, the sensation so acute it’s too much.
Too much and he hasn’t even properly fucked me.
My orgasm builds quickly but levels off before I can hurtle over that edge.
It’s so reminiscent of many experiences. All the times I was left disappointed. Suddenly, fear takes hold of me.
What if the night in the living room was a fluke? What if he can never make me come again? Would he be okay with that? What about?—
“Get outta that pretty little head, babe.”
I exhale, releasing the anxiety trying to take hold. He’s right. If I overthink this, I definitely won’t orgasm. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Focus on me. Focus on how you feel. Stop thinking.”
I nod forcefully. “I’ll try.”
It’s easier said than done, though, and moments later, clearly sensing those worries taking hold again, he changes tactics.
He sits up, causing the comforter to slip off our bodies, and yanks my shorts down. Then he lowers to the bed, using his shoulders to wedge my legs open wider.
With the first swipe of his tongue I bow off the bed.
I clutch the sheets, fingers tangling in the fabric as he devours me.
Quickly, pleasure builds inside me again. His mouth on my core renders me thoughtless.
I’ve had plenty of guys go down on me before, but to no avail. None of them devoured me the way Daire is. It always seemed more like an exchange, not like they were getting any enjoyment out of it. But Daire clearly loves it. He doesn’t hold back. Not with his mouth, tongue, or fingers.
I cover my mouth with my hand as a scream builds deep in my lungs.
He looks up from between my legs and fucking grins.
That little?—
My thoughts die again when he sucks at my clit.
There’s no stopping the orgasm as it barrels through me. I keep one hand securely over my mouth and reach down with the other to grip his hair.
I swear he says, “That’s right, baby. Ride my face.” But I’m so far gone to the pleasure I might’ve imagined it.
As I slump against the mattress, drained, he climbs back up my body and gathers me into his arms. His hard length presses into my backside. I’m dying to taste him, but I’m too tired to even broach the subject of returning the favor, and within moments, I’m out.
It’s still dark when I wake. Even in sleep, my mind is fixed on Sammy and whether he’s okay.
I reach out for Daire, but all I find are cool sheets.
My heart drops.
Did he move to the couch?
I slide out from under the covers, searching for my sleep shorts. When I finally find them stuffed under the sheet near the foot of the bed, I yank them on, then grab a pullover and slip it over my head.
Down the hall, I hold my breath and slowly turn the knob to Sammy’s nursery. The last thing I want to do is wake the sleeping infant, but I can’t rest until I check on him and Daire.
In the glow of the nightlight, I can just make out the form in the daybed we set up across from the crib. When I ordered furniture, it seemed logical to have a bed in here in case Sammy got fussy or sick and one of us needed to stay close.
Daire sits up as I enter the room.
“What are you doing?” he whispers, shifting over to make room for me.
“I was worried about Sammy.”
The daybed isn’t exactly big enough for two grown adults, but we make it work. He spoons me against his chest, wrapping his arm around me.
“Me too. But he seems fine.”
I take in the baby’s sleeping form through the slats in the crib. Peaceful. Unbothered. Too young to know about the cruelty of the world.
“Is this how all new parents feel? Scared out of their minds?” I ask him. “Not that I think I’m his mom or anything. I know I’m not, but I just?—”
“Shh,” he hushes. “I know what you mean. I can’t say for certain, but I imagine, yeah this is what they feel like.” He kisses the back of my shoulder through the fabric of my shirt. “Now go to sleep, Rosie.”
I wiggle against him, trying to get comfortable in the small space.
He groans, his voice a low warning when says, “Rosie.”
My heart lifts, even as he’s reprimanding me. “Sorry.”
My mind feels more at ease now that I’m close to Sammy. If he needs us, we’re right here.
I drift off to sleep again, but this time, I sleep through the night.
After an early-morning grocery run and a much-needed stop at Starbucks, I find all three guys in the kitchen playing with Sammy.
“Peek-a-boo.” Roman open and closes his hands around his face. “Peek-a-boo.”
Sammy giggles from his grandpa’s arms while Daire watches with a grin I’ve never seen before. It’s 100 percent a proud dad kind of smile.
I set down the bags and drink carrier. “I was going to make pancakes if that’s okay with everyone.”
Daire hits me with a different kind of smile, a much sexier smile, as he reaches over and snags the iced shaken espresso I got for him.
“I’ll never complain about pancakes,” Roman says, holding out his arms to Sammy.
Peter shakes his head and pulls the baby in closer, not wanting to give up his grandson.
After a few sips of my cold brew, I get to work unloading the groceries.
“Are there more in the car?” Daire asks.
“Yeah, I was going to unpack these and go back.”
He presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth, and on instinct, I startle. I’m still getting used to this affectionate version of Daire. “I’ll get them.”
When he’s gone, Roman gives me a smile that’s pure younger brother mischief. “Things are going well with you two, huh?”
“Well, we are married. I’d hope we like each other.”
“Cash still says you guys are faking it.” Roman swipes one of the grapes right off the vine as I pull them out of the bag.
“Ew, I haven’t washed those yet.”
He takes another. “Don’t care.”
“Cash is imagining things.” I sort the groceries on the counter into categories, avoiding his gaze. I find it easier if I sort it all before I start putting it away. Otherwise I’m constantly running back and forth.
I always suspected Cash had a crush on me, but before he asked me on a date last year, he never pushed for more, even when we stayed in contact after my friendship with Daire imploded. Then, last Christmas, when I told him I’d like to remain just friends, he seemed perfectly content. After that, I figured he was over it.
“It’s just funny.” Roman goes on, crossing his arms over his chest and propping himself up against the counter. “He never mentioned you to any of us.”
I narrow my eyes on him. The youngest Hendricks brother has always been the most laidback, but right now, I feel like I’m under interrogation. “He didn’t tell you about Sammy either. Seems to me like he’s keeping a lot from you guys. Maybe you should stop questioning my marriage and take a long look at yourself. Maybe you’re the problem here.”
Peter clears his throat. “Roman, leave Rosie alone.”
A sharp pain lances my chest. God, I hope they never know that this whole thing was a farce.
Daire’s family has always been almost like my own. I don’t want to have to face the shame of disappointing them.
Daire returns while Roman and I are still eyeing each other and sets the rest of the bags on the counter, then looks between the three of us. It’s like he could sniff out the tension before he even entered the kitchen.
“What’s going on?” he asks warily. His eyes shoot to Sammy in his dad’s arms. “Is the baby okay?”
“The baby’s fine,” Peter assures him. “Your brother here was giving Rosie a hard time.”
Daire clenches his hands into fists and brings them to his hips. Whether he realizes it or not, he purposely positions himself in front of me in a protective stance.
“What’s your problem with Rosie?”
“I don’t have a problem.” He leans around Daire to see me better. “You know I don’t have a problem, right, Rosie? I’m just trying to figure you two out.”
“Figure us out?” Daire fires the words back at his brother. “What does that mean?”
“Daire.” I gently grasp his arm, ready to beg him to drop it. It’s not a big deal, and it’s not really surprising that they’re suspicious.
Roman looks down at the ground, shuffling his feet. “I don’t know, but Cash?—”
Daire throws his arms up. “This is about Cash? I should’ve known. Why are you listening to anything he says? He’s jealous because I got the girl. Is it not obvious to you how I feel about her?”
He looks at me over his shoulder, his blue eyes lit like twin flames, and I nearly collapse from the intensity reflected there.
I don’t want to say I see love there, because I don’t want to even give voice to that possibility—not even in my own thoughts—but the emotion is a strong one. Stronger than any I’ve ever seen focused solely on me.
Roman clears his throat, eyes dropping. “Yeah, it is.”
Daire reaches for Sammy, and his dad quickly hands him over.
The second he’s in his daddy’s arms, Sammy laughs, and Daire practically melts. His rigid posture loosens, and his scowl disappears.
“How can you love someone so much when you don’t even know them?” Daire asks his dad as Sammy wraps a tight fist around his index finger.
Peter chuckles, smoothing Sammy’s downy soft blond hair. “That’s what being a parent is like—instant love.”
Rocking Sammy, Daire turns his attention back to his younger brother. “Just for being a jerk to my wife, you get to put the groceries away.” He claps him on the shoulder, then he turns to me and holds out a hand.
I gladly give it to him and follow him out of the room. As he leads me to the living room, I can’t wipe the stupid, goofy grin off my face.
I’m so screwed.