25. Paris #2
I huff a laugh. “I probably should’ve prepared better and swung by the house to pack a bag. The ones I had on last night have to be washed before I can put them back on.”
“Fuck that,” he growls, nipping at my lobe. “They’re mine now. Gives me something to jerk off into next time we have one of our little reading sessions.”
My eyes roll back at the thought of the black lace wrapped around his throbbing cock, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he strokes languidly. Everything this man does is so incredibly erotic, but that particular vision would have me coming on the spot.
“Maybe we better make that a FaceTime reading session,” I suggest playfully.
He chuckles, giving my bare ass one more squeeze before standing to his full height. “I think that could be arranged.”
Bacon grease pops behind us, causing him to turn toward the stove.
He presses a quick kiss to my forehead and hurries across the room, turning the burner off completely.
I watch like a lovesick fool as he prepares two plates of bacon and eggs, his firm ass flexing under the fabric of his sweatpants every time he shifts from one foot to the other.
I swear, ever since the first day Austin kissed me, I’ve been a different person.
I want to explore. I want to explore what I like, and I want to do it without shame.
For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m finally ready to figure out who Paris Bellamy is.
And I don’t mean Paris Bellamy, the single mother of three.
I want to find the girl who let this sinfully hot older man do unspeakable things to her last night and has the soreness between her legs to prove it.
I want to try all kinds of dirty new things and decide by myself what I like and what I don’t.
The universe certainly knew what she was doing putting Austin Baker in my path, the man who lives to make his partner feel good.
I only hope I can do the same for him, giving him all the pleasure he deserves in return.
“Here you go, beautiful,” he says, setting my plate down on the island and pulling out one of the barstools.
I thank him softly, and he takes my hand, helping me up into the chair before pressing another affectionate kiss on the crown of my head.
He places his dish across from mine, leaning down with his elbows on the counter as he stabs his fork into the steaming pile of eggs.
We discuss our plans for the day while we eat, opting to stay in and be lazy while we can.
The kids will be home tomorrow morning, which means I have a full twenty-four hours of relaxation and cuddling left before we have to part ways.
The whole thing feels domestic, like we’ve been doing it for years.
The way I’m already so comfortable with him should have me wondering if we’re moving too fast, but at the moment, it doesn’t.
Since our very first kiss, he’s never pressured me to go at any pace but my own.
He understands that I haven’t really done this before, and his patience has made me realize that there’s nothing to be afraid of.
I just want to enjoy our time together and go wherever it takes us.
I finish my breakfast, hopping off the barstool and heading to the sink with my plate.
But as always, Austin is hot on my heels the second I’m gone, grabbing it from my hands and loading it into the dishwasher beside his.
I can’t help but roll my eyes, even though I know that no amount of sass will change his ways.
“You know, I do run an entire household by myself,” I say, putting my hands on my hips. “I’m capable of cleaning up my own messes.”
He darts a hand out, circling his thick fingers around my wrist before yanking me into his body.
I collide against it with a quiet oof, the air in my lungs no match for his million-pack of abs.
“I know you are, my sweet baby girl,” he replies, his hands tracing a path down my torso until they’re bracing my hips.
“But when I’m around, you get taken care of. Understood?”
My cheeks blush, and I stifle a smile. “Yes, Coach.”
He growls under his breath. “You have no fucking clue what that does to me.”
“Good to know,” I toss back, tucking my lips between my teeth so I don’t grin like a fool.
He makes me feel like one, so playful and carefree, not afraid to banter with him.
He grins, dipping down and pressing a chaste kiss to my forehead just as the song coming through the speaker changes into a soft, slow ballad.
“Oh my God, I love this song,” I sigh, my entire frame relaxing as the melody wraps around me.
“When it first came out, I’d listen to it on repeat for hours.
Something about finding a love so deep that it alters you right down to your bones is just beautiful.
I think maybe the idea that it was out there gave me hope during a time where I struggled to find any.
” I feel the heat of a blush on my cheeks, tucking my chin sheepishly.
“Then, one day, Rhys asked me if we could please listen to any other song because this one was making his ears feel sad, and I realized that I’d overdone it. But it’s such a good one, isn’t it?”
He chuckles. “That sounds about right. At least he’s honest though.
” I huff a quiet laugh, my eyes locking onto his and noticing how much brighter blue they are in the morning.
One second, we’re standing there, unable to wrench our gazes away, the next, we’re swaying slowly to words about falling so in love that it’s hard to breathe.
I fight back tears, letting my lids flutter closed as emotion clogs my throat.
I don’t want to go back—I try not to—but I can’t stop myself from remembering all the times I asked Braxton to dance with me in our kitchen, only to be shot down.
He always said he was in a hurry, giving me a disconnected kiss before rushing from the room.
I allowed it for so long, taking any scraps of affection he’d give and telling myself that it was normal for a married couple to lose the spark, knowing damn well that there really wasn’t one to begin with.
But with Austin, there is, and I can’t imagine how badly it would hurt to lose it.
A single tear escapes, rolling down my cheek. He notices it immediately, reaching up and lifting my chin with a crooked finger.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, his tone full of concern, yet still so tender. “Why are you crying?”
I sniffle, my chin quivering. “We’re dancing.”
“We are,” he replies matter-of-factly. “But why is that making you sad? Talk to me.”
A broken sigh leaks from my lungs, and I shake my head slowly. “I’m not sad. It’s just…this is all so perfect. It’s really scary.”
He stops swaying. His hands lift, cradling my cheeks as his thumbs swipe the moisture away.
“It’s very scary, but it’s also the realest thing I’ve ever felt.
We’ve both been burned before, so I think it’s okay that we’re feeling a little nervous right now.
As long as we communicate with complete honesty, we can make this work, Paris.
” He swallows, lowering his forehead to mine.
“I’ll give you and those kids everything he didn’t. You just have to let me.”
A quiet sob bursts from my chest, more tears—this time, happy ones—flowing down my face. The fact that he’s so in tune with my fears eases my anxiety, and I nod my head, letting him know that I’m in this. I still want to go slow because it’s all so new, but I know I don’t want to give any of it up.
“Yeah?” he asks, his ocean eyes sparkling.
“Yeah.”
He smiles, big and bright, bending slightly at the knees as he wraps his arms around my waist and presses his lips to mine.
He licks at the seam, and I open, sparks igniting along my skin the moment his tongue begins teasing mine.
My palms glide up his chest, roaming his shoulders before I sink my fingers into the hair at his nape.
We don’t break the connection, our bodies swaying back and forth to the soft melody like we’re the only two people on the planet.
My heart flips and flutters, more jagged pieces of me healing with every lazy slide of his lips across mine.
I don’t know what I did to deserve a man like Austin Baker, but it was worth every single sleepless night and lonely day that led me into his arms.