The 'Burg: Hold On Part 94

"I got him," I said. "Go back to sleep."

"Give me gooey before you go," he ordered, still kinda slurred, sleepy, but definitely cute and hot.

I changed from my pajama bottoms and cami into a bra, jeans, sweater, socks, and boots.

Then I made my way to my man in the bed.

He didn't move as I put my hand on his hip and leaned in to brush my lips against the stubble of his jaw.

But he did mumble, "Naked when you get back in bed with me."

Oh yeah.

I could do that.

"Right," I whispered. "Be back."

"Later, baby," he told the pillow, rubbed his face in it and turned his head the other way.

Yeah, again.

Cute.

I did my thing with my kid, making sure he brushed his teeth, was dressed appropriately, had layers just in case the weather changed, and all he needed packed for a cabin-in-the-middle-of-nowhere sleepover. I also made sure he had Brendon's card and present, and I got a breakfast bar down him.

The last was likely unnecessary. Brendon's parents had money. For his weekend-long birthday extravaganza in some woods somewhere fis.h.i.+ng that had to start at oh-dark-thirty, no doubt they had a catered breakfast buffet waiting at their house.

If it was me, I'd have two dozen Hilligoss donuts. But considering they felt their son's diet should consist of more than sugar and chemically enhanced colors and flavoring, I figured they probably hadn't had a donut in their house since...well, they bought their house.

Which was too bad. If they had them, I could have swiped a few for Merry and me.

Instead, I decided to swing by Hilligoss on the way back.

My kid and I got in my car. I took him to Brendon's. I walked him through the early morning dark to the big house on the Heritage, the 'burg's fancy-a.s.s housing development.

Brendon's parents asked me in.

To my shock, they had Hilligoss. Not two dozen. Five. Brendon's parents did not provide this blessing. Brendon's uncle did.

They offered me coffee and a donut. I only accepted the donut. When I mentioned Merry, Brendon's mom packed four for me (probably hoping to get them out of her house as fast as possible). Obviously, I didn't hesitate to accept.

I made sure I had phone numbers for Brendon's parents and the other two guys who were going with them to look after the boys.

One number was Brendon's uncle, the one who brought the donuts. He was also the one I noted with the attention of a woman who had it good at home (which meant absently) was on the upper scale of seriously good-looking. Not to mention he had a strong hint of bada.s.s to him, which made me wonder (also absently) what he did for a living.

Brendon's mom walked me to the door, saying, "Ethan says you're seeing someone."

I turned my head to look at her.

We weren't buds.

She was nice and all, but she lived on the Heritage. She was a stay-at-home mom. She went to yoga cla.s.ses. She didn't shop in Indy; she went up to Chicago to get the really good s.h.i.+t. But she did go to Indy to drink martinis (probably-I didn't know this for sure, I just knew she never came to J&J's).

I was a bartender who lived in a boho-decorated crackerbox house.

This alone wasn't conducive to us being buds.

Therefore, I looked at her in surprise, because being nice and all never included anything personal.

"Yeah," I replied.

"That's too bad. Jay just filed for divorce. I was thinking of fixing you two up."

I stopped and stared at her.

Jay was her hot brother-in-law.

And that was life. A dry spell for years after hooking my star to a psychopath, I finally get someone-someone awesome, someone perfect-and some b.i.t.c.h suddenly wants to fix me up with a hot guy.

"Kinda taken," I muttered.

"If that doesn't work out, you've got his number. He saw you picking up Brendon a couple of weeks back and asked about you. He doesn't do that kind of thing and not just because he recently filed for divorce. He never did that kind of thing, before her or the last year they've been separated. This means he's interested. So my take, he wouldn't mind hearing from you."

I looked down her wide hall with its gleaming wood floors to the tall guy at the end of it wearing khaki cargo pants, a pullover army-green fleece with a half-zipper at his throat, three days of thick stubble, and a seriously attractive smile on his face that he was aiming down at Ethan's bud Teddy.

He might be fun.

And that was life.

Because I hoped I'd never know if he was or not.

I looked back at Brendon's mom. "Nice to know. But things are kinda serious with my guy."

She shrugged and smiled. "Just in case."

Whatever.

I returned her smile and took off.

I drove back to Merry's, parked by his Excursion, and hoofed it up to his condo. And I used the key he'd given me the same night he'd given one to Ethan (something he didn't make a big deal out of, but it was another warm and squishy moment, a huge one) to let myself in.

The condo was dark.

I considered making coffee and taking a cup to Merry with the donuts on a plate so we could scarf them down, doing this to give us both energy to do other things on a lazy Sat.u.r.day when neither my man nor I had to work and my kid was off in the woods and wouldn't be home until late tomorrow afternoon.

I went to the bar, dropped the bag of donuts on it, and decided we could come out and make coffee and snarf down donuts later to carb up for a second round.

This meant I peeled off clothes on my way to Merry's room. By the time I got there, I had my jacket off. My sweater, boots, and socks, all gone.

So I opened the door wearing nothing but jeans and a bra.

What I saw was an empty bed and I could see that clearly because of the light coming from the bathroom.

I moved that way and felt my mouth water when I caught sight of Merry in his navy flannel pajama bottoms and nothing else leaning into a hand on the basin. His hair was a sleepy mess. His stubble was dark against his jaw. And he had a toothbrush in his mouth.

I grinned as I experienced a nice private s.h.i.+ver and moved his way.

Still brus.h.i.+ng, he turned his head toward me as I walked into the bathroom.

His blue eyes instantly dropped to my bra.

My eyes dropped to the triceps bunching in his arm braced against the basin.

They moved to his lateral muscle. From there, they drifted down to his a.s.s.

I went where my eyes beckoned and s.h.i.+fted behind him, pressing in. Hands to his waist, I slid them up to his ribs as I bent in and touched my lips to his spine.

I heard him spit out toothpaste foam.

I slid my lips up as I slid my hands in.

The tap went on.

I slid my tongue out and my hands down.

I felt the hair on his stomach.

G.o.d, I loved that hair.

I engaged my nails.

Merry's ab muscles contracted.

The tap went off.

I glided one hand up, flat against his pec. I also glided one hand down, tracing the arrow of hair, going for buried treasure.

I heard a low rumble come from him and he s.h.i.+fted his a.s.s back into my hips.

Oh yeah.

I pressed into him as I bared my teeth, sc.r.a.ped the skin of his back, rubbed my thumb across his nipple, and dove in, pus.h.i.+ng into his pajamas and finding treasure.

His thick c.o.c.k was rock hard.

f.u.c.k yeah.

His body tensed.

"Jesus, Cher," he growled.

I held tight and stroked.

"f.u.c.k," he grunted, pus.h.i.+ng his d.i.c.k into my hand.

f.u.c.k yeah.

I stroked harder.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged gruffly.

I licked, kissed, and lightly sc.r.a.ped his back as my free hand roamed his chest and my busy hand worked his d.i.c.k.

"Wanna feel your t.i.ts," he ordered, voice thick, a.s.s again pressed deep into my hips, letting me do all the work.

One-handed, I undid my bra. I slumped a shoulder so it would drop off. It did and I let it hang on the wrist of the hand engaged in giving my man the good stuff.

I wrapped my arm back around him and pressed my t.i.ts into his back.

"f.u.c.k yeah," he groaned.

I kept at his c.o.c.k with one hand as my other moved to the waistband of his pajama bottoms at the side. I looked down as I shoved down, watching as I exposed his skin, his muscle, his fine a.s.s.

My legs trembled.

"Baby," I breathed.

"Knees," he rumbled.

No hesitation, I let his c.o.c.k go and dropped to my knees.

Merry turned and shoved his pajama pants down, kicked them aside, and reached to my head.

He didn't have to guide me. I reached to his hips, latched on, s.h.i.+fted, found the head, and sucked deep.

"f.u.c.k yes," he said on such a deep groan, I felt it rumble down my throat.

He was right.

f.u.c.k yes.

I sucked him off, giving it everything I had, then giving in when Merry took over, holding my head, f.u.c.king my face.

One hand tight to his a.s.s, the other hand tight around the back of his thigh, I took it. I loved it. f.u.c.k, I was thinking I'd come getting it. And when a moan slid up my throat and sounded against his driving d.i.c.k, he pulled out.

Then I was up, and before I knew it, I was facedown on his bed.

My whole body jerked after he reached a hand around, made light work of my fly, and yanked my jeans down.