by L. B. Dunbar
“I wanted to see how you were doing. You were upset earlier.” It’s an understatement and an opening to discuss my day, but I don’t really want to talk about it.
“I’m better, thank you.” I lift my glass of wine to salute him before taking a sip. Zack glances toward the disappearing sun before looking back at me.
“Seems I’m always entering this yard to either apologize or thank you.”
“Or to steal wine or deface my tree.” The sarcasm is harsher than it needs to be.
“I told you I don’t steal.” With his tone defensive, Zack scratches at the back of his neck. He exhales before continuing. “But my boys and I had a chat about that, where I admitted I’d done wrong by assuming it was okay to build a new fort. You suggested fixing the old one, and I got carried away.”
Weakly, I grin. “You should get carried away with your boys. They just want your time and attention.” My thoughts leap to little Jessica and her parents. Time is all they have with her.
“I know,” he softly huffs. His lids lower a second before those silver beams look back at me. “What about you? Do you want my time and attention?”
I don’t think it really matters what I want. He seems to take charge whether I like it or not which might be a big reason I didn’t give in to him last night. I don’t need the likes of Zack Weller bulldozing my life. I don’t want to be dazzled by him. However, as he stands at the end of the lounger looking flustered and contrite, I want nothing more than to lose myself in him.
Maybe I could have a one-night stand if the right kind of man offered.
“I’d like to make it up to you,” he states when I haven’t answered about his time or attention. His voice drops low and seductive as he bites the edge of his lip. “The imposition of the tree fort. Sharing your wine. Watching you in your yard.”
He isn’t indebted to me like he suggested last night, but Jesus, his voice is like a slow caress up my legs and between my thighs. “What do you have in mind?”
“Negotiation.” My breath hitches as I meet his hungry gaze. “Lift your dress. Slowly.”
A thrill runs through me at the soft command. On a million levels, I should not satisfy his request. This is so wrong. Yet I set my wineglass aside and scrunch up the gauzy material, exposing more and more leg as the fabric rises. When the dress reaches the apex of my thighs, Zack makes another demand. “Take off your underwear.”
Keeping myself covered, I reach under my dress and slip my underwear down my hips and over my knees until I can kick them free. Zack catches the flimsy lace and squeezes it into a fist before slipping it into his pocket.
“Touch yourself.” Holy shit. He can’t mean it, but as I hold his gaze, I slip a hand over my upper thigh and between my legs. Brushing against my clit, I keep my eyes on him and hiss at the sensation. The featherlight tease is only the beginning, but I’m already so turned on by his seductive voice and smoldering gaze that I’m not going to last long.
Stroking over damp folds, I lick my lower lip, and Zack pops the button on his shorts. The sharp sound of his zipper rips through the magnetic tension between us. He isn’t watching me touch myself but focused on my face, looking at my lip which I bite in response to his pleased smirk. The scent of my sex fills the air around me. His hand disappears into his shorts, and my lids lazily lower.
“This is what I did that night while I watched you.”
My eyes snap open and widen. He got off while watching me. The possibility has me stroking faster, rubbing harder. The intensity with which he presently observes me could incinerate me. My skin sizzles with desire. My mouth dries.
Zack places a knee on the edge of the chaise as his arm moves, the jerking motion clear although the tails of his shirt cover everything from sight.
“I wanted it to be me,” he says in a raspy, rugged voice. “I wanted to glide between those thighs and nip at your sweet skin. I wanted to smell your pussy and press my tongue against it.”
“Oh God,” I groan. For a man who doesn’t want to think, he’s thought an awful lot about that night. And with his soothing voice and commanding instructions, I’m falling under his spell. My mind clears of everything but what his tongue might feel like against me. What his tongue could do to that spot where I need him most. He’d devour me like his mouth did mine last night, and I moan with the thought.
“Do it,” I demand, not recognizing my own voice. I spread my legs just the slightest amount, hinting at what I want.
“Angel,” he hisses.
“Make me come,” I softly strain, recognizing I’m close but knowing his mouth will get me over the edge. He releases himself and places both knees on the end of the lounger. His warm hands grip my ankles and tug my legs wider. Lowering his body between my legs, he slips his hands under my knees as he bites the tender skin of my inner thighs. He scoots upward, running his nose over my clit before his tongue strikes. He doesn’t hesitate as he did with that first kiss last night. He dives in, kissing me like he had my mouth. Tongue. Teeth. Lips against lips. He sucks at the sensitive folds, causing my hips to buck. He laps across my slit, and my back arches. His tongue thrusts forward, flicking my clit, and I’m ready to break. I’m outside my head with thoughts only of Zack and what he’s doing to me, what no man has done to me in years.
“I’m going to come,” I state in both warning and wonder. I’m going to come, and it’s going to be big, like tree-fort-shaking, tectonic-plates-shifting big. My legs stiffen, and my thighs squeeze the sides of his head as I erupt from his relentless tongue. His fingertips press into my skin as his tongue licks up my release and immediately pushes me toward another.
“Oh God,” I whimper, uncertain what’s happening to me. I rarely come twice and never this fast on the heels of the first.
“Yes,” he mutters as if he’s the man himself. The vibration stimulates my already sensitive folds.
“I can’t,” I softly mewl.
“You will,” he commands again. His tongue against me says no more negotiation. This is torture—quick, slick, and delicious. I crash within seconds, calling out his name in the dark night. Jackknifing upward, I cup his ears, staring down at his head buried between my thighs. He releases me, and I tug him by those ears up to my mouth, sucking at my essence on his lips.
“Fuck me,” I whisper, my voice desperate with need. He’s opened the hydrant. It can’t be closed until the fire burning inside me is out.
“Not tonight,” he says, ravenous for my lips. His tongue licks upward, lapping from the lower to the upper swells.
“What?” I choke, misunderstanding him and feeling his rejection. He just gave me two incredible orgasms, one on top of another. I need to feel him inside me.
“That was all for you.” He was certainly generous, but I’m not done with him. My hands roam down his body, forcing his shorts to his hips.
“River,” he warns against my mouth, but I break away. His hands land on either side of my hips, balancing him upright, and slowly I lower under him, scooting myself beneath his body.
“Angel,” he chokes when I slip my hand inside his shorts, wrapping around a shaft that’s velvet over steel. He’s so hard and hot. He needs to lose control like I did. Releasing him for only a moment, I wrestle his shorts and briefs farther down his body to free his impressive length, then lick the seeping tip.
“Fuck,” he groans, balancing on those arms like columns holding up a building. I swirl my tongue around the crown before opening and drawing him to the back of my throat, swallowing around him. My tongue dances around the head before sucking the firm shaft. His hips lazily rock. Reaching deeper inside his shorts, my hands squeeze the firm globes of his ass and he tightens.
“River,” he pants once more, swiping a hand into my hair, fisting it as if he wants to remove me, but I’m not letting up. I want him to break for me. His backside clenches, and his hips surge forward once more. I gag around him. Quickly, he forces himself free, and I whimper, opening my eyes to watch him fist himself and jer
k once before releasing against my pubic bone. My head falls back. My chest heaves.
“Jesus.” Zack chuckles before collapsing beside me. Despite the heavy weight of my head, I roll it in his direction. “That was not supposed to happen.”
His breathing is just as ragged as mine, but the grin on his face lets me know he’s pleased by what we just did.
“You didn’t like that?” I tease, rolling my body to face his.
“Don’t be stupid. I loved it, but that’s not what I intended tonight.”
“It’s called compromise,” I state.
“Well, I like how you compromise.” He smiles wider, and the full potential to dazzle graces his face.
“I like how you negotiate,” I whisper, reaching out to run my fingertip down his nose. He shifts his body to mirror mine before kissing me tenderly.
“I’ll negotiate with you anytime.” His silvery eyes soften. I’d like to believe those words mean more, but I know better.
9
[Zack]
Within days of knowing her, the warmth my boys express for River’s feelings surprises me. Oliver worried we’d upset Miss River and she wouldn’t want to see us again, while Trevor genuinely meant his suggestion to remove the entire structure if she didn’t like it. I was truly baffled by how easily the boys behaved for this woman, but I wasn’t puzzled at their attraction to her. While not the same as the level of attraction I felt, of course, something about her drew all the Weller boys in her direction.
Thinking of attraction, I loved how she responded to my commands. It could have all blown up in my face—demanding she remove her underwear, telling her to touch herself, allowing me to watch—and then she flipped the tables like she has at every turn. She told me to do it. She told me to act out what I wanted to do to her on that outdoor chaise, and when I did . . . holy shit. In her terms of compromise, she returned the favor, which I never ever expected.
I blame it on that kiss she demanded the previous night, striking a match and setting the flame. My game was seriously off, and I knew I was fucking it all up with her. Even when she told me to kiss her, I hadn’t known how. It isn’t that I’d forgotten, but I was out of practice. Six years married to a woman I hadn’t loved, and I no longer knew how to kiss a woman I might.
You were holding back. She was right. I was holding back. I didn’t want to scare her away, but can you scare a woman brave enough to sunbathe nude in her backyard? Can you frighten a woman who is bold enough to touch herself before a man? River has a wild streak, and I want her to help me reclaim mine.
Before I left her last night, I apologized again for overstepping boundaries in building a new tree house in her tree.
“You seem to have a habit of it,” she teased about my trespassing. Although I knew what she meant, I didn’t want to come across as taking things that didn’t belong to me. I’d been the product of a man who’d done such a thing, and I swore I would never beg, borrow, or steal anything that wasn’t mine. Most of all, I didn’t want her to think I’d taken advantage of her.
The next day, we return to her yard to continue our building project. The boys have had a blast making demands and following directions like little subcontractors. They’ve done Mason proud. Thankfully, River works during the day again, so we aren’t disturbing her.
When our smoking hot neighbor finally does enter her yard in the late afternoon, Logan and Mason are arguing about finishing touches. You wouldn’t think building a simple tree house would take more than two days, but with these two, it’s out of control.
“I’m the architect,” Logan states with authority, pointing at himself as he speaks to Mason.
“But I’m the builder. This will work best.”
I chuckle at the two who have always had a competitive relationship despite being roommates and best friends since freshman year of college.
“Everybody getting along?” River teases as she approaches me. She’s wearing her scrubs again today, and I’m certain Mason had the same thoughts as me yesterday. I’d like her to be my naughty nurse. The reality of her job, though, sets me back. Pediatric oncology must be a difficult position, and it explains why my children so easily react to her. She knows how to talk to kids. I’m clueless even though I always swore I’d be a better father than my own. I’d provide for them. I’d be present for them. I’d be supportive of them. However, since their birth, we’ve had countless nannies. Jeanine was just as busy as I was in her career, and our twins came second. I’m not proud of that fact.
“Architect and builder clash. I’m getting used to it in our new venture.”
“And what’s your role again?” She eyes me in my sweaty tee and dirty day-old shorts.
“I’m normally the paper pusher, but I wanted to be more hands-on with the boys on this project.” If I had known activities with my boys would make her smile like she is, I’d find more projects with those two hellions. Forgive me—children. Then again, I’ve seen her mouth curl in reaction to other pleasant things, and I’m eager to repeat those actions.
“How was your day?” I ask, still focused on her mouth. Her eyes widen in surprise at my asking, and she bites her lower lip.
“Today was better. Thank you.”
“Patient doing better?” When she didn’t look at me yesterday, it stung. She was hurting and I felt a little helpless. I didn’t miss the brush of her hand to dismiss the tears on her cheek, but I didn’t want to draw attention to them when she clearly didn’t want me to see them. Still, my chest ached, and everything in me wanted to pull her to me to comfort her. Last night, she dismissed my concern just as easily, and I distracted her the only way I thought might work.
I bite my lower lip, wondering if she’s thought about what we did last night as much as I have all day.
“She’s as good as she’s going to get,” River replies with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. She’s putting on a brave face again, and I imagine it often takes one to work with such sensitive cases.
“So, how’re we doing today?” She nods at the progress. What was intended to be a new ladder up the trunk and rebuilt platform among the branches has turned into a real structure in her tree.
“It might be getting out of hand, but we’ll be done today.” I hope. We should have consulted River on what she’d want. It’s her yard, as she said yesterday. It’s her tree, and it’s been a struggle to remember such things as I dismantle my old fort and build a new one in a backyard that is no longer mine. Still, she’s smiling at the construction which has low walls and cut-outs for windows.
“Where are the boys?” As if they hear her asking, they appear from behind the tree. They’ve had some good swings with little hammers and come up with lots of plans for their temporary house, but they’ve been losing interest due to the lengthiness of the project. It takes time to measure, cut, and build.
We’ll need to build a tree house in our own backyard, I’ve decided. I’m only saddened Logan and Mason won’t be around to help. Neither will River, but I dismiss the thought for now.
“Miss River,” my sons say almost in unison like she’s their favorite teacher. She’s definitely becoming mine.
“Hey, guys. I have something for you.” Reaching down for a bag I hadn’t noticed at her feet, River lowers to their level, kneeling on the ground to remove items from the large sack.
Object after object is revealed. Pirate hats. Eye patches. Dark bandanas. And a telescope.
“You need to share this,” she tells them, and I huff. Good luck with that.
Mason responds instead. “You’re making monsters by spoiling them.”
“I’m making pirates of them, searching for adventure. Argh,” she groans, and my dick unfurls at the throaty sound. Forget naughty nurse. I want her to wear a short dress with a lowcut bodice to swashbuckle me. I have buried treasure for her to discover.
“As long as they aren’t stealing maidenhead. Or discovering a maiden giving head,” Mason interjects, and I narrow my eyes at him.
/> “Really?” I mutter. Speaking of a man with no boundaries.
“I want to steal a maidenhead,” Trevor says with enthusiasm.
“I want a maiden giving head,” Oliver adds.
My eyes sliver into piercing slits. If I had a sword, I’d impale Mason with it. However, River laughs, and I recall the sound from the other night.
“How about searching for buried treasure instead? That’s better than any girl,” River teases, scrunching up her face in an adorable mocking of her own sex.
“A maiden is a girl?” Trevor questions, his face falling in exasperation. “Ugh. No, thank you.”
“I like girls.” Oliver shrugs like they aren’t that bad.
“Thank you,” River states with pride, smiling at my boys as she stands.
“You’re not a girl,” Trevor says, objecting to the thought.
“I’m not? What am I then?” River teases, and Oliver blinks up at her.
“You’re a mom.” His innocent statement floats around us. My mouth falls open, ready to correct him, hoping River isn’t offended. However, graceful as she is, River gently reacts.
“Moms are just girls who grow into women and have children. I don’t have any children, so I’m not a mom.” Her voice is calm. Her explanation clear. She isn’t offended.
Without a thought, Oliver replies, “You should be.”
“Oliver!” I shriek, mortified on his behalf.
“Dude,” Mason mumbles a few feet away.
“You can be our mom,” Trevor says, shrugging like it’s that easy. Then he adds, “Ours left.”
“Trev.” With the nickname softly on my tongue, I feel like the nail gun got loose and just hammered my chest. I glance up to find Logan watching me. He’s the other divorced guy in our group. He pulled off the single dad thing for years, doing a great job with his only daughter. He knows I’m concerned I won’t get my shit together. Jeanine has screwed up our boys with her absence, but I’m not without fault.
