I always want more.
His taste. His touch. His words. His love.
I want it all.
His time. His smiles. His patience. His heart.
And he gives it all to me. Everything I want. Everything I need. He hands it all over on a silver platter.
Tugging on his hair, I pull his face to mine, and my mouth crashes against his. His orgasm rips through him, and he shudders above me, groaning against my lips as he releases his hot seed inside me. For several long minutes, even though we’ve both come and are sticky and sweaty, we stay where we are—kissing, touching, loving each other—refusing to break the connection.
Until our son’s shrieks ring through the house, letting us know he’s awake.
“Let’s go away,” I murmur against Ryan’s lips. RJ is down for the night and we’re snuggled on the couch with a movie in the background that neither of us is paying attention to.
“What?” he asks, confused.
“Neither of us has any obligations,” I explain. “Let’s take RJ to the beach house. Back to where all this started. We can introduce him to the sand and the ocean. Spend some time with Lexi and Georgia. Maybe have Tristan and Charlie babysit so we can all go out. Charlie’s offered several times.”
Ryan considers this for a moment before he says, “I don’t want to run, baby.” He kisses me softly, as if to lighten the blow. “I know you’re scared, but we’re in this together. Running to another state isn’t the answer.”
I want to argue that that’s not why I want to go away, but deep down I know he’s right. Living in a bubble with Ryan is amazing, but every time that damn bubble bursts and we’re smacked with reality, something goes wrong. If we could run to the beach house, that bubble has a better chance of staying intact.
“Why don’t you invite them here for the weekend?” he suggests. “We can have one of our parents watch RJ so we can go out. You’re twenty-one now, so you can even legally drink.” He waggles his brows playfully. “Then I can bring you home and have my way with you.” His smirk tells me he’s remembering our time at the beach house when we went out and I got drunk—only this time he wouldn’t have to play nice.
“Fine, but I still want to take RJ to the beach.”
“And we will.” He presses his lips to mine. “Once you’ve gotten the hang of the laundry, we know the kitchen is safe from fires and flooding, and I know you won’t kill me in my sleep.”
Micaela
“Ahhh!” Lexi throws her arms around my neck and molds her body to mine, hugging me tightly. “I’ve missed you so much! This semester almost killed me.” She steps back and pouts. “Please tell me you’ve secured a babysitter. I need to have some fun.”
“And what, spending time with my son isn’t fun?” Ryan says, joining us.
“He’s the best kind of fun,” Lexi argues, “but I also need some pre-mom Micaela fun. The kind where we’re too drunk to remember the trouble we got ourselves into.”
She walks into the house like she owns the place, rolling her luggage behind her.
Georgia stifles a laugh, giving me a one-armed hug. “She took three art classes,” she says with a playful eye roll.
“And a math class,” Lexi points out. “One very exhausting and traumatizing math class. Why anyone needs to take math when they’re majoring in art makes no sense.”
Ryan snorts, snaking his arms around me from behind and kissing my cheek.
“Hey, don’t laugh,” Lexi says, pointing a manicured finger at Ryan. “I’m an artist. I create. I don’t do math. Math is… structured and I don’t do structure.” She points to Georgia. “She does structure.”
“And she did most of your homework,” Georgia says, referring to herself in the third person. “So, if anyone deserves a fun night out, it’s me.”
Lexi snorts a laugh. “Oh, really? A fun night, huh?” She steps into the living room and picks RJ up, giving him kisses. “What kind of fun are we talking here, dear sister? The drinking kind?”
“Maybe.” Georgia shrugs.
“Oh, I can’t wait to see this,” Lexi says, cracking up laughing. RJ joins in, not having a clue why he’s laughing but still laughing nonetheless.
“Your house is beautiful,” Georgia says, looking around.
“Yeah, very… grownup,” Lexi adds with a wink.
“Thanks. My parents are going to take RJ for the night,” I tell them, showing them to their rooms. Since the house has four bedrooms, two of them have been turned into guest rooms for the time being. When we confirmed they would be staying with us, Ryan ordered two bedroom sets and had them delivered.
“Once we’re ready to go, I’ll just run him over and then we can take off. We’ll order an Uber so nobody has to drive.”