Chapter 20 #2
“Oh,” Paige gasps with a little laugh. Her cheeks turn brighter than I thought they could, nearly fluorescent. “Someone was hoping for a very different kind of dessert.”
“I didn’t mean—”
But Paige is too busy laughing to listen to my excuses. I want to tell her that tonight isn’t about sex or sleeping with her. I would leave at the end of the night without so much as a kiss if she wanted.
“I think it’s time we put Noah to bed, don’t you?” Mischief glints in her eyes. “Skipping bath time for one night isn’t going to kill anyone. Besides, he can take one in the morning. No school tomorrow.”
I nod vigorously. “A growing boy needs plenty of rest. Plenty of sleep, all night long.”
My words make no sense, but the only thing I can think about is having Paige wrapped around me.
She steps closer but doesn’t wrap her arms around me. Instead, she clasps them before my chest as if she’s begging me. “You put him to bed tonight. I have some things to take care of.”
“Come on, Noah,” I call, scooping him from his highchair and swinging him over my shoulder. He giggles with glee, his tiny body fighting me playfully.
We trudge up the stairs while I relish how comfortable I feel here. I know where anything is, I know how to put Noah to sleep, I know how to make Paige sound like—well, that last one needs to wait until after I put Noah to sleep.
I change him into soft superhero pajamas, then he tucks the bunny under his chin and curls up in his bed. I kneel at the head of the bed and let him choose which book he wants me to read. He chooses two, so I resign myself to reading both.
There are worse things in the world than spending time with a toddler.
* * *
Paige
Aaron doesn’t know, but I’m watching him and Noah going through the bedtime routine from the shadows. There’s a small alcove at the top of the stairs where I can see in, but they can’t see me.
I’m consistently surprised by how gentle Aaron is with Noah. He’s had no kids of his own to practice with, and his adopted siblings were older when he met them. It’s his instinct that makes him a good dad, if that’s what he wants to be.
It’s hard for me to picture anyone as Noah’s dad, but Aaron comes closest.
The longer I stand here and listen to Aaron act out the stories Noah has suckered him into reading, the more I realize I like him. And the feeling in my body moves from mild amusement at the control of a tiny tot wrapping Aaron around his finger to something deeper.
Something I can feel stirring in my core.
Heat bubbles beneath the surface, begging for someone to let it out. I already know that I’m slick for him. Tonight was supposed to be about gently getting to know one another, and my body is about to betray me.
What can I say? It turns me on to see a strong man take care of my very small and very precious toddler.
With that in mind, I decide to go ahead with the little surprise I planned for Aaron. Every time we spent the night together, I didn’t really get to dress up for him. Unicorn pajamas, scrubs, and now…
I stopped by the lingerie store while my mom watched Noah today. She thought I was going to the grocery store to get ingredients to cook for Aaron tonight—and I did that.
Until I passed the sleek black building that promised I could drive him wild. I went inside, biting my lip and feeling like an older mom like me couldn’t possibly belong. Just when I was about to back out without so much as breathing on the silk, a sales assistant stopped me.
“What can I help you find today? Something for a special occasion?” She seemed genuinely interested and helpful, wearing a black blazer over a pink silk shirt and her hair pulled in a sleek ponytail.
“I’m not sure I belong—”
“Everyone belongs here,” she corrected before I could finish. “Maybe something nice for everyday wear?”
“No,” I mumbled. “Special occasion.”
She smiled, and we walked to the back corner of the store. It was filled with floaty nightgowns, delicate lace, and silk in a variety of colors. April, as her name tag said, sized me up and down for a moment before handing me an emerald-green negligee.
“This color will highlight your eyes and hair. The cut of the nightgown isn’t so tight that it will show everything, but it’s tight enough to bring out the best of your curves. It covers the tummy that most moms are sensitive about,” she said expertly. “And it’s on sale.”
My jaw dropped at how easy all of this turned out. Maybe I would buy more lingerie if I knew that I could walk in and have a personal shopper tell me just what I wanted.
I paid, brought it home, and hid it away. Now, I’m standing in front of the mirror in my bedroom, studying my reflection in the negligee. I had locked the bedroom door, wanting to surprise Aaron when I was good and ready.
He knocks gently on the door. “I’m going to go down and get a head start on those dishes.”
“Down in a sec,” I assure him.
I take one final spin and see the fabric flow around my thighs. Truthfully, it barely touches my thighs. I take a deep breath until I feel the air ignite in my belly, and then I make myself walk as slowly as possible downstairs.
Aaron was hunched over the kitchen sink, washing the last dish. He doesn’t look up when I approach.
“How are the dishes coming?” I try to steady my voice, make it as normal as I possibly can, which is no easy feat with the butterflies in my belly.
“Last one,” he says, putting it in the dish rack and turning to look at me.
He jumps back as soon as he sees me, gripping the edge of the countertop so hard his knuckles turn white. The muscles in his forearm bulge with the effort of holding himself there. His jaw hangs open, his eyes trailing over every inch of skin that I’ve left bare to him.
I spin to show him the back, and he groans as my ass comes into view. I know the skimpy fabric won’t cover it from that angle. I hope he got a good look at the matching G-string beneath.
Slowly, I sashay toward him and place my hands on his chest. His heart is beating erratically, even more so when I lean up against him and feel his hard cock pressed against my thigh.
“I thought we could have that tiramisu now,” I whisper.
“Dessert,” he says, snapping one of the thin shoulder straps. “All of this effort, and the only thing you want is dessert.”
He picks me up by the waist and lifts me onto the dining table next to the chilled tiramisu container. A cold spoon dips into the cream, and he teases me around the lips with it before he finally lets me take a bite.
I can handle a little teasing.
I remove his shirt so that I have more skin to work with. He moans at the feel of my hands on his pecs and chiseled abs. I can’t resist the idea of running a finger slowly along the waistband of his boxers.
I scoop a bite of tiramisu onto his collarbone and take my time licking and sucking it off to a loud moan.
“Paige, I need you to lie down right here on the table,” he commands.
I like it when a man takes control, so I climb the rest of the way up with anticipation. I lean back and stretch my arms over my head.
“Oh my god, you’re incredible,” Aaron breathes.
He runs light fingertips from my cheek all the way down to my knee, relishing every curve along the way. Every caress makes me more breathless.
He spoons the tiramisu on the mounds of my breasts, pushed up by the slinky fabric of the negligee. He smears a bit on my thighs, right beneath the hem. The cool dessert pairs with the heat of my flushed skin.
It’s nothing until he leans in and starts to lick it.
Aaron starts with the tiramisu on my breast, swirling the cream around with his tongue and sucking the delicate skin to make sure he leaves nothing behind. Purple blooms when he releases the skin, but I couldn’t care less.
Unable to help himself, he tugs down the lacy triangle until my nipple is visible, hard for him already.
“You mind if I taste something a little different?” His voice is husky, and it vibrates through me.
The only thing I can do in response is arch my back until he takes the sensitive skin into his mouth. He sucks hard, and stars fill my vision. I don’t even want to know what kind of sound I made.
“Pace yourself,” he teases. “We haven’t even made it to the tiramisu on your thighs.”
He takes his time moving down my body until his mouth lands on the hem of the negligee. He lifts it, revealing the G-string beneath. It doesn’t take much to see that his eyes light up.
“All this soaked silk,” he murmurs. “We’ll have to rectify that soon.” He swipes the dessert off my skin with a practiced tongue.
Then, he pulls me to the edge of the dining table so that he can yank off the G-string. Satisfied that not a single thing stands between us, he sinks to his knees in front of me.
The way he moves is so infuriatingly slow, one kiss on my thighs at a time. Eventually, I lose patience, grab him by the back of the head, and place his tongue right where I want it. He laughs but obliges me, circling my already swollen clit with gentle pressure. Then he moves lower.
He licks from my entrance to the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top, lapping up all the mess I’ve made for him. My cries become more frantic. If I grip the edge of the table any harder, I’m going to leave it in splinters.
Suddenly, he pulls back.
“Please,” I beg.
“Not time for you to come yet,” he says, undoing his belt and freeing himself from his boxers. “Get up from the table.”
The last thing I want to do is leave this spot where he had given me so much pleasure. I was hoping for a repeat. Instead, he turns me to face the table, presses my hands into the wood, and pushes me down.
I hear a foil wrapper tearing. The only thing I can do is stand here, vulnerable, waiting for him to have me however he wants.
“You ready for this, baby?” he asks softly in my ear, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin. In response, I arch my back and press my ass into him. “It might hurt for a second.”
And then he pushes deep inside of me until he’s buried to the hilt. He moves extra slow, taking his time to warm me up and let me adjust to his size.
I melt into his touch and relax, his cue to move deeper and faster. He pulls out almost all the way and then pushes back in just as deeply as before. It elicits a loud moan from me, and I can only hope that my son is a sound sleeper.
“Keep quiet,” he admonishes me. “Or I’ll have to cover your mouth again, remember?”
Last time we had shower sex with Noah at home, he did have to keep me quiet. This all just feels like too much pleasure, too much everything to keep inside, but I do my best.
“Good girl,” he says when I remain quiet for a few thrusts. “I would much rather do this with my hand.”
With that, he reaches between us and places a single finger on my sensitive clit. He traces gentle, lazy circles around it while he thrusts so deep inside of me that I can barely stand.
A minute passes, then two. My knees become so weak that they can’t support me, and I tremble.
Aaron leans down and whispers in my ear, “I know you can’t take much more, so come for me.”
That dirty command in my ear is all it takes to send me over the edge. The tingling sensation sweeps from the top of my head and spreads through my entire body. I shake and moan uncontrollably while Aaron keeps stroking me with his fingers.
It takes a second before my breathing returns to normal.
“You’re not done yet,” he says with a satisfied smirk at the pleasure on my face. I look down and see that his cock is still hard.
“Let me take care of that,” I purr.
I pull off the condom and sink to my knees in front of him, taking as much of him in my mouth as I can—which isn’t much. I wrap one hand around the base and take him deeper in my mouth.
For a minute, the only sounds in the kitchen are the slurping and sucking as I eagerly try to give him what he wants. When he tangles his fingers in the back of my hair, guiding my speed and depth, I know I have him.
He shudders and pulls my hair harder, pushing as far into my mouth as he can while spilling his cum down my throat. I swallow every last drop and keep sucking until he pulls back.
“Wow,” he breathes, the only word he can seem to get out.
“We could have been doing that all along,” I laugh sheepishly, knowing that it was my fault we were apart.
“I intend to do it many, many more times now.”
Aaron leans in and kisses me tenderly. It’s nothing like the hunger and the heat of a few minutes ago. This is deeper—this is a kiss that says we’re good together, that we can make it work, that we can do whatever we want to do.
I slip beneath a blanket in my skimpy negligee, and he zips up, pours two glasses of wine, and settles on the couch beside me.
“Where do we go from here?” I ask in a small voice.
“We’ve tried doing this without each other,” he reminds me. “And if I recall, we were both miserable. You were all I could think about. You and Noah. I would have even weeded your flowerbeds if it meant being close to you.”
“I’m sorry I let my fear get the better of me. Dating with a kid to think about is still so new to me. Hell, doing anything with a kid is new to me, and I don’t have a sounding board to tell me which idea is good and which isn’t.”
“You do now,” he says simply. “I want to take care of both of you. That is, if you can let go and let me in.”
I take a sip of wine to buy myself some time to think. He is right, I did think of him incessantly during the time we were apart. He’s great with Noah and clearly loves him. Why deny all of us a chance at a happy life?
“I need someone who’s going to stick around,” I say instead, a smile on my lips. “I need someone who’s going to run into a burning building to save us. I need someone with the tenacity to keep working, even when it seems impossible.”
Aaron listens with wide eyes, letting my words sink in.
“I need you, Aaron.”
I lean in and kiss him on the lips, gentle at first. We brush our lips back and forth, but he eventually deepens the kiss. Our lips part against each other, and I trace the contours of his mouth with the tip of my tongue.
“I have always needed you, Paige. I just didn’t know it.”