“Thanks, but I have some errands.” He skirts the table, pausing to kiss the top of PJ’s head and clapping another brief, tentative hand on Zac’s shoulder.
“You sure?” The tension is gone from Zac’s voice. It’s an honest invitation. “We have plenty.”
Cal hesitates for a second, then shakes his head. “Next time. Or one of these days I can host. No reason Anya should always have to cook.”
“I cook,” Zac protests, and Anya snorts even as Cal’s deadpan “You sure do, buddy” drifts down the hall behind him as he goes. The front door shuts behind him, and Zac looks at Anya. “I cook.”
She rolls her eyes, getting up. “Fine. You can make the roast while I give PJ a bath.”
There’s a tiny hiccup of hesitation. “You know he likes it more when I bathe him.”
“Terrible. Pathetic. I have a liar here in front of me, and he’s—”
He captures her wrist and tugs her down for a kiss, interrupting her tirade. He sweeps his tongue into her mouth, making it dirty, and she’s out of breath when he pulls back. “Why was Cal in my house when I already decided to be mad at him?”
“Your house?”
A hint of chagrin flits across his face. “Our house.”
“Because he babysat our child for us when Marina had to leave early. After I couldn’t get ahold of you.”
“Oh, shit. Sorry. I was—”
“In session, I know. Cal explained. After you decided to be mad at him for wanting the two of you to be successful.”
“He wouldn’t stop nitpicking.”
“That’s his job, I think. You dumb boys, always getting your delicate feelings involved at the office. If only women ruled the world. We’d send you home with pacifiers when you have these little dick-measuring contests.”
“Big dick.” Zac gives her a cranky face. “It’s a big dick measuring contest. On my part anyway.”
The words come out before her brain can catch up. “Not on Cal’s?”
“How the fuck would I know?”
Surprised at herself, she manages to lighten her tone, make it into more of a tease than a sincere question. “You’ve never taken a peek? At the urinal, maybe?”
“Men do not do that,” Zac says with great dignity, amusing her. “That’s a good way to get punched.”
“Pacifiers, the lot of you.” She pulls away to go cook, since God knows Zac never will. But then, he is good at getting PJ cleaned up without outbursts of tears.
“You’re wearing a lot of pea goop there, my friend,” Zac tells their son. PJ babbles back and she has to lean against the counter for a moment, her knees weakened by love for them both.
* * *
Later, when she’s in the bathroom going through her nightly skin care routine, Zac comes to stand in the doorway. He’s wearing only his boxer-briefs, and he eyes her in her long white nightgown.
“You want to fool around, I guess,” he says, scratching his belly.
“You make it sound so appetizing.” She opens her moisturizer and gestures with the lid to his long, lanky body and disordered hair. “I don’t know what part of this is supposed to make you think I’ll want to fool around.”
He grins. “You’re wearing the sex nightgown.”
She frowns, considering the nightgown in the mirror. It’s the sort of thing religious virgins wear to bed. It’s the most demure thing she owns, the nightgown equivalent of period panties, in her opinion. She has no idea what he’s talking about.
“It’s a married-lady nightgown, Zac.”
“It’s the one you wear when you want me to fuck you hard.”
She smirks at the amount of thought—incorrect thought—that he’s put into this. “Are you insane?”
“You know how many times I’ve tugged that thing up past your waist to get to your pussy?” he asks, and she immediately goes liquid and soft between her legs. “I’m onto your tricks, woman.”
She lifts an eyebrow. “Some trick. I learned your weakness without even trying.”
“You’re telling me this doesn’t mean you want me to fuck you?” He wanders closer, leans in to press a kiss to the side of her neck. She obligingly tips her head to give him more room. His stubble on her skin gives her shivers. How does he always do this so easily? How can her body crave him so much that she’s always this easy for him?
“I always want you to fuck me.” She has weapons of her own and isn’t afraid to use them. Predictably, his gaze darkens.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, and she shudders, pressing her ass back to where he’s already half-hard in his underwear. He bites down in that same spot on her neck, hard enough to make her cry out, not quite hard enough to bruise. His hands stroke over her shoulders, digging into the muscle, making her relax, and then one palm nudges between her shoulder blades. She bends at the waist, facing the mirror, low over the counter, pushing bottles of toner and her makeup case to one side in the process, maybe knocking something over, although she doesn’t care enough to check.
He tugs at her nightgown.
“Your legs,” he says, appreciative, and she spreads them wider, teased by the fabric skating up over her thighs and over her buttocks until it’s bunched up at her waist. “And then there’s that,” he says, even more appreciative, and she laughs.
“Are you going to look at it or fuck it?”
He gives her a gentle swat on one cheek. “Don’t rush a master.”
She laughs again, the sound going throaty as his hands rub over her back and hips.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he says, hoarse enough that she has to look at him in the mirror. He’s staring at her pussy, his expression enraptured, his eyes hot, and she can’t wait anymore.
“Give me your cock.”
He exhales hard, liking the dirty talk, tugging at his boxers until he can pull himself out. He’s ramrod straight in his palm, but he doesn’t give it to her. Instead, his other hand strokes the lips of her pussy, dipping inside. He teases her, flicking lightly at her clit, sliding fingers through the beginnings of slippery wetness, and she tries to muffle her harsh breathing.
“I saw how you were looking at him tonight.” His words emerge gritty and taut.
For a long moment, she doesn’t know how to take that. Part of it is that she’s already foggy with arousal, and she can’t get her brain engaged. The topic of his dirty talk isn’t new. Zac often likes to talk about her with other men because it gets him hot to watch, and it gets her hot to see him so ramped up. But the subject of this particular reference takes her by surprise. She wonders if they’ve finally stumbled across a situation where thinking of her with another man makes him jealous instead of aroused.