Chapter 11
“I’m not a man who gets jealous,” I explain to my nephew. I’m sure if Carson wasn’t two and more concerned with blowing spit bubbles at the moment, he’d call me on my shit. Obviously, I’m jealous. It’s been ages since my brother followed Amani into the bedroom. How fucking long does it take to glance at a scar and recommend some pills. What the hell is going on in there?
I hate feeling this uncomfortable. One of the benefits to keeping a revolving door of women who are equally disinterested in a serious relationship is never feeling like this. There’s a ball of fire in my chest and there’s nothing I can do about it. Actually, incorrect. I think taking a bat to the back of Alex’s head would make me feel a bit better at the moment.
“Okay, buddy, here’s the plan.” I lift Carson and place him on the kitchen island so we’re closer to eye level. “I want you to go to the bedroom door, knock, and cry. Make it really dramatic. Can you say ‘Daddy, help’ really loud? Then I’ll be out here faking a heart attack. That should break up whatever is going on in there.”
Carson continues to blow spit bubbles, ignoring my strained expression.
“Well, I can’t knock again,” I continue in a hushed tone. “I already tried the diaper bag thing.”
Carson simply swings his legs, silent, except for the soft thuds of his heels hitting the cabinets.
I blow out a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll level with you. Uncle Adam is a little out of sorts right now because Amani is my friend, and quite frankly I don’t want your dad playing with her.”
Actually, I don’t want any man playing with Amani. As unfair as that is, it’s how I feel. I’m trying to be reasonable. I shouldn’t make a move on Amani knowing I’m the opposite of what she needs, yet at the same time, waking up next to her this morning felt like a long, lost memory. Like a family picture that was blurry until she showed up and everything became a little more clear. But I need time. Do I like the girl? Of course. Am I ready to unravel eight years of tangled, neglected emotions? Not even close.
I scoop Carson off the counter and place him on the ground. Pointing to the bedroom door, I say like a director, “Knock really loud, okay? Action.” Carson doesn’t budge. Rolling my eyes, I squat down to kiss him on the forehead. “I love you, but you’re useless right now.”
Making my way to the bedroom door, I think of excuses. Coffee. There we go. I’ll say I’m ordering coffee from a delivery app and I need to know what they want, stat. That’s a viable excuse.
I raise my fist to knock and the door swings open. Alex’s stupid, smug grin is right in my face.
“Subtle, Adam,” he says, laughing. “Real subtle.”
“Shut it,” I mumble as I peek over his shoulder. A fully dressed Amani gives me a thumbs-up before disappearing into the en suite bathroom. “Is she okay?” I ask Alex.
“Yeah, why?”
I follow him back to the kitchen. “You were in there a while.”
“We talked for five minutes, Adam. Damn. If you like her that much, why don’t you go tell her how you feel? It’s clear she likes you too. This shouldn’t be so difficult.”
“Shouldn’t you be taking your own advice?”
Alex holds up his palms. “Hey, no argument there. I’m absolutely planning on talking to Tara about how I feel and what I want.” He scratches the back of his head. “Right after I buy her entire extended family their dream Disney vacation,” he rushes out.
I laugh. “You’re trying to make it so she can’t say no to you.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much the plan.” Alex collects Carson’s diaper bag, then picks up his son. “Ready, bubba?”
Once Alex and Carson are out the door, I head down the hallway to find Amani. The bedroom door is wide open, but the en suite bathroom door is shut. Knocking softly, I call through the door, “Amani, are you okay?”
She yanks open the door, her phone in her other hand on speaker, the sound of hold music softly echoing in the bathroom. “Yeah, are you?” Her eyes are wide in surprise as she hangs up and sets her phone on the bathroom counter amidst the plethora of makeup she’s unpacked.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your call,” I say, staying put in the doorway.
She grumbles, “Oh, it’s no big deal. I was just busying myself so I could give you and Alex a moment. I’ve been meaning to call my credit card company.” She rolls her eyes.
“Fraud?” I ask. “Because you can usually freeze your card through apps these days if—”
Holding her hands up, she clarifies, “No. I’m trying to get a limit increase. It’s a long shot, but I thought I’d try.”
“Is it something I can help with?”
Her eyes drop to her bare feet on the clean white tile. “You’ve helped more than enough. You can’t fix all my problems.” Scooting a few small bottles and square makeup containers aside, she makes room to plant her ass on the counter. She crosses her legs, wiggling her top foot nervously like she’s uncomfortable with our conversation.
Her sad eyes pull me in. It’s the addiction I’m apparently developing around Amani. Is it sick that I love to be needed by her? Taking two long strides forward, I stand in front of her. The way she’s sitting on the bathroom counter, our hips are level.
“I can try,” I offer.
She shakes her head, but her eyes stay locked on mine. “You are one big puzzle, Adam Montgomery. I can’t quite put you together.”
“How so?”
She raises her brows, her forehead crinkling. “It doesn’t bother you that your brother saw me half naked?”
“You said it was medical. He’s a plastic surgeon and you had breast implants. It’s not that far-fetched.”
Smirking, she says, “I didn’t ask if it was far-fetched. I asked if it bothered you.”
She’s baiting me. Here’s my next chance to bend my rules. Logic tells me this is a terrible idea, but the tightening in my chest and the way I’m having to control my breathing tells me I’m already a goner. The game is over. Grabbing her knee, I uncross Amani’s legs and wedge myself between her thighs. She squeezes me with her legs playfully, making what could be an awkward moment feel familiar and comfortable.
Am I really about to cross this line?
“It drove me fucking crazy,” I admit. “Please don’t do that again. Use a doctor I don’t know and never have to see.”
“Are you bossing me around now?” Her smile grows.
“You seem to like it. Does a jealous man turn you on?”
Wrapping her legs around my hips, she pulls me in a little closer as she scoots to the very edge of the counter, pressing herself against me. “How about you don’t ask what turns me on unless you plan on doing something about it?”
Hunching down to lean in close, I whisper right against her ear, “Next man besides me who sees you naked is a dead man walking. I’ll make sure of it.”
Securing her hand around my neck, she whispers back, “You don’t really seem like the fighting type.”
I laugh. “I’m not. I’m the hire-a-hitman type. And I’d pay top dollar to bury your next lover in the ground.”
Leaning back, she finds my eyes again and gives me a cute shrug. “I like you, Adam. I’m right here.”
I rub the sides of her thighs, buying time as I weigh my options. Honesty seems like a good choice for once. “But you want to get pregnant.”
Dropping her hand from my neck, her expression goes flat. “Oh. I see.”
“No, wait.” I immediately regret my words. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I saw you with Carson, and I’m more convinced than ever being a mom is a great choice for you. But where does that leave me? You want to be a mom, but I don’t want to be a dad. If we start something, isn’t that kind of saying…” I have no idea how to finish my sentence without sounding like an ass.
“Saying what?”
“Amani, if I wanted a baby, I would find a woman, settle down, get married, and start a family myself. But I don’t want any of that.” At least not anymore.
I’m relieved when her sassy smirk returns. “Awfully cocky of you to think that any woman would have you. Plus, you put the moves down like a sloth. Who has that kind of time?”
“Funny,” I huff out.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m not looking for a father for my nonexistent baby.”
I’m not convinced. Who wants to embark on the journey of parenthood alone? “You’re not?”
“IVF isn’t for another six weeks, at least. I’m trying to share a moment with you right now. One summer. No strings attached and no loose ends.”
“So just your guy for the summer?”
“Exactly. Just my summer guy,” she echoes, her eyes now on my lips. I’m too slow for her liking because right before I decide to cross all the lines I promised I wouldn’t, Amani’s soft, full lips are on mine. I mean to deepen our kiss, to run my tongue against hers, but she’s too quick, her lips finding my ear as she cups my growing hard-on. “But I’m warning you now. Once you’ve had me, good luck letting me go,” she says with a little breathy chuckle.
I find her green eyes and cock my head to the side.
“I’m kidding,” she says. “Just a joke.”
She doesn’t understand my hesitance. It wasn’t her warning. It’s the letting her go part that has my stomach twisting in knots. That’s the problem with summer. It ends.
I tug up the hem of her white shirt and she lifts her arms so I can pull it over her head. I toss it to the ground before unclasping her bra. “Six weeks. All mine. No one sees these but me.”
“I may actually need a doctor, though,” she says as I pull each of her straps down. When her bra falls in her lap, she pulls up one of her perfect, full perky breasts to show me her slightly pink scar. “See?” she asks.
It doesn’t look all that bad. “I’ll be your doctor.” I bend over and kiss her scar. “There. All better.”
She’s giggling until I engulf her nipple, swirling my tongue around her piercing and feeling her nipple harden and swell in my mouth. “Oh, good God,” she moans.
Reluctantly, I let go of my new favorite treat and wrap one arm around her back. After pulling her off the counter, I yank her bottoms and panties down in one pull. Dragging my fingers up the inside of her thigh, I search for her clit and nearly keel over when I feel a third piercing.
“You’re kidding me.”
“Did I forget to mention that one?” she asks.
Plopping her back onto the counter, I spread her thighs apart, soaking in the visual of the neat, trim strip of auburn hair, down her perfectly bare and pink pussy, and the tiny half-moon hook with small rhinestones that decorates her clit. “Was it painful?”
She shakes her head. “Not too bad. Then again, I was high out of my mind.”
“Smart call,” I mumble, distracted by her nakedness. She’s so unashamed, like she’s comfortable in her skin. Maybe she feels the way I do, like this is natural. As if Amani and I are puzzle pieces, even if it’s just for right now. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Head to toe.”
Her cheeks turn red. “Thank you,” she mutters, looking uncomfortable.
I chuckle, her sudden bashfulness kind of arousing. I like catching her off guard. “You’re completely unbothered being naked, legs spread in front of me, but a little compliment makes you blush like that?”
“I’m a complex creature, Adam. Buck-ass naked is fine, but when the guy I like tells me I’m pretty, I get a little girly about it. Sue me.”
Her pussy is on display in a brightly lit bathroom, and here I am, unable to look away from her pouty smile. “Hmm,” I murmur.
“What?” she asks.
Looking to my right, I spot an individually wrapped makeup cleansing wipe. Amani stares at me like I’ve lost it but doesn’t say anything when I tear the corner of the packet off with my teeth. Fisting the little wipe, I try to warm it up in my palm before I shake it out into a full square and drag it across her cheeks. “Do you mind?” I ask. She nods in reply before I wipe off the heavy layers of tan makeup until I see her freckles.
“There we go,” I say. “I really like your freckles.”
She touches her cheeks, still damp from the cloth. “Really? I hate them.”
I nod at her. “It’s going to be hard not to fall in love with these freckles.” I pull out the hair tie that’s holding her red ponytail in place. Her thick hair falls over her back and shoulders. Something’s different. This doesn’t feel like a hookup. It feels like a type of intimacy I remember from long ago.
Amani cradles my cheeks in her small, warm hands. “We don’t need love. Just some fun.”
“I can do fun,” I say, barely hearing my words. With Amani’s blessing, I stop worrying about what this means. I just focus on how it feels, and how many times I’ve fantasized about getting her in this position. Naked, spread, like a doll that’s mine to play with.
I run my longest finger up the center of her crease, savoring the sound of her moan. I play with her piercing, getting more excited by the way she’s squirming against my hand. Sick of my teasing, she bridges her hips askingly, and I oblige by pushing two fingers into her. She’s so tight, it’s a struggle to push past my knuckles, but she gasps then bites down on her bottom lip, like I’ve touched her favorite spot.
“I forgot how fucking good it feels to want someone like this,” she says, leaning back and resting the back of her head on the bathroom mirror.
I could tell her I feel the same. That it’s been a long time since I took my time to notice the little things. How sensitive her skin is, and everywhere I touch turns pink. The birthmark near her ankle that looks like a tic-tac-toe board. I could pick her knees out of a lineup.
But those are secrets that lovers share. This is different. I won’t make promises I can’t keep and we’re here for fun. So I keep my mouth shut and sink to my knees and hoist each of her thighs on either side of my shoulders.
“Full of surprises,” she mumbles, practically shaking with anticipation.
“Meaning?” I kiss the insides of her thighs, toggling back and forth from right to left, letting her need build.
“You go down the first time?”
I smile against her leg. “There are three things that make up a gentleman. Paying the dinner bill. Calling when you say you’re going to call. And eating pussy like it’s your very last meal.”
She snorts in laughter. “I think there’s more to it than that.”
“Really?” I latch on to her clit mercilessly, hollowing my cheeks before releasing her and shoving my tongue into her opening, tasting her arousal as she sucks in sharp breaths between her whimpers. I explore every single fold before I look up to see her watering eyes on me. “Like the view?” I ask.
She runs her hands through my hair and closes her fist. “Talk less. Keep going.”
I laugh. “Call me a perfect gentleman first.”
“Adam, I’ll call you a gentleman, a god, a king, or a fucking dragon if you want. I don’t care. Just keep going.” She pulls me closer with her fist still clenched in my hair. “Please,” she pleads.
It barely takes a minute to finish her off. By the time I’m done, she’s pushing me away with her palm against my forehead. The sensitivity is too much, her legs are shaking, going weak. Unhooking her thighs from my shoulders, I rise to my feet and hold out my arms so she can collapse into me.
She shakes her head against my chest as she chuckles. “I promise I’m not usually that loud and dramatic. Guys just never do that for me. You are definitely a gentleman.”
Leaning back, I lick my lips, still tasting her on my tongue. “Guys don’t do that for you?”
She shrugs. “My past lazy dates didn’t offer and I normally don’t ask. It feels too personal.”
“More personal than actual sex?”
She nods. “Definitely.”
“But you like when I do it?”
She smiles. “Yeah, I do.”
“Well, good.” Letting her go, I flip the handle of the walk-in shower, remembering it takes ages to get hot. After peeling off my shirt and stepping out of my pants and briefs, I hold out my hand, helping Amani off the bathroom counter. “I don’t have any condoms on me, so how about we get in the shower and just get a little more personal?”
“Smooth line, Adam.” She winks at me over her shoulder before stepping into the shower and dropping to her knees.