She lifts up slightly, taking hold of my dick and sliding me deep inside her. There is nothing quite like having a woman on top of you. Her tits rise and fall, her hair moves with her body. With my hands on her hips, I help lift her up and down, bouncing on top of me, riding me. She keeps her eyes locked on mine the whole time. I hope she sees all my love for her—how beautiful I think she is—how I never want to spend a day without her.
I feel my body start to tighten and pull her into a kiss as I release inside her.
*
“I think orgasms are addictive,” she says, giggling. “The more you have, the more you want.”
“Oh really?” I say, letting my hand roam between her legs. We’ve been naked all night. Sometime in the early morning hours, we moved upstairs to bed, but we’ve been laughing, talking, and fooling around for hours.
She captures my hand, and I frown at her. “All those times I told you I wasn’t easy and look,” she says, tossing her hands up in a laugh. “It turns out I am.”
Flipping her over, I pin her to the bed. “Thank fuck for that.”
She laughs again. “I don’t want this night to end.”
“We have tomorrow night,” I say. “And the night after that, and the night after that.”
“Promise?” she asks, a serious tone falling over her voice.
“That’s the easiest promise I’ll ever make,” I say.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
PAIGE
Things with Slade and I are like a dream. It’s nothing I ever hoped I’d have—love, support, passion. It’s only missing one thing—honesty—but I only have myself to blame for that. I guess no one can have it all.
Finn and I go out to the ranch most days. Slade hates Finn and me commuting out to the ranch to oversee repairs. He calls me almost every morning, making sure we got there okay. He’d much rather be the one making that drive. I actually don’t mind it. It’s a pretty drive, and Finn loves the car, so he’s usually happy.
Progress is slow, but I can see the ranch starting to take shape again. The front window has been repaired, and the new flooring and cabinetry should arrive any day. As far as remodels go, Slade assures me this one has been pretty smooth. Slade works from the city. He already has his hooks into a few other projects at work, so I know he’s happy that Jon is back in the office full-time now.
And when work is done, we’re all just together—having family dinners, playing on the floor with Finn, strolling with him through one of the many parks of Nashville. It’s the family life I always dreamed of. The kind that I didn’t think anyone really ever had. And it’s mine.
Finn has become quite the crawler. You’d think it would make him nap more, but Finn’s crawling has made Slade and I more tired than Finn. But it’s fun, too, chasing him around, playing peekaboo, and hearing him squeal. I actually came home a couple of weeks ago and found gates on both the top and bottom of the staircase, as well as covers on all the outlets. Slade hired a whole childproofing crew to anticipate any possible thing Finn could get into. Of all the things he does, that kind of thing melts my heart.
After Finn goes to bed, Slade and I get to just be a couple. Which always means we end up naked at some point. I can’t complain about that. Slade’s begging me to find someone to watch Finn from time to time, so he and I can actually have some time together out of the house, but I haven’t done it yet.
Tonight, someone is joining our quiet family dinner. This could be an amazing night or the worst idea in the history of family dinners.
I’m standing at the stove making dinner when Slade walks in from work, slipping his arms around me, kissing me sweetly, and eyeing what I’m making. I can tell he’s happy it’s roast and not eggplant. The condo doesn’t have the expansive kitchen of the ranch, but I love cooking for us. I’m a freak, I know.
“Jon had a whole slideshow on his phone of the baby,” Slade says, looking through the kitchen door at Finn playing in his playpen in the next room. “You’d think the kid was more than a month old by the number of photos.”
“It’s got to be hard for him to be back at work full-time,” I say.
I haven’t seen Catrine since the day after the baby was born. The name Chewie was replaced by Theo. I know I should go see her, but I slipped up, and I don’t know how much she picked up on. So I’ve been keeping my distance. But it’s eating at me.
She’s planning on being a stay-at-home mom now. Slade suggested I stop by to visit, but I’ve resisted. A new mom adjusting to a baby has been the perfect excuse. Add in feeding schedules and nap times, and visits are virtually impossible. At least that’s what I’ve been telling Slade. I have tried to call her a few times, and she either doesn’t pick up or keeps it short. “Maybe you should go see her since Jon’s back at work now?”
“Maybe,” I say, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach.
“Jon asked me to be godfather to Theo,” he says.
I kiss him softly. “That’s great.”
“You okay?” Slade asks, giving my arms a little rub.
“I’m fine,” I say, shaking it off.
“We can cancel tonight,” he says.
I throw him a look over his shoulder. He’s not getting out of this one.
He finally invited his dad over for that dinner I promised. It surprised me that he did. I guess seeing Jon as a dad, feeling like he’s a dad to Finn, made him think about his own dad. Whatever the reason, Slade reached out, and Lyle accepted. My part is to make dinner, and Slade made me promise there wouldn’t be anything green. But he never said anything about the color orange, so I made sure to have carrots with the roast.
“Dada!” Finn laughs out.
Slade looks through the door, waving at him. When Finn first said, “Dada,” I wasn’t quite sure he knew what he was saying, that he was identifying Slade as his father, but it’s clear now that’s exactly what’s happening. It makes me happy and scared at the same time. I want Finn to have everything—all the things I didn’t. That includes a father, and Slade is the best father any child could ever have. But it also scares me that he’s getting so attached. When this . . . No, if this ever goes south, Finn will be devastated. He won’t be the only one.
Slade walks closer to me, his eyes studying me. Gently, he places his hand on my forehead. Giving him my best smile, I plant a light kiss on his lips. He’s right that I don’t feel the best, but I’m sure it’s my nerves getting the better of me.
The doorbell rings, and Slade looks back at me, inhaling a deep breath. “Maybe just scream ‘Dada’ at him. That seems to make you happy,” I suggest.
“Very funny,” he says, smacking my butt.
Washing my hands off, I watch him pick Finn up, carrying him to the door. Finn’s his buffer, I guess. When I suddenly hear the loudest screech I’ve ever heard Finn make, I rush from the kitchen to the den, a bit panicked, not sure what to expect.
The largest stuffed polar bear I’ve ever seen comes through the door, carried by Slade’s father. Finn is going nuts in Slade’s arms, shrieking, his arms flailing and his legs kicking.