Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
“I love you, Conrad Riggins,” I say softly. He stops eating and starts to fuss a little. I hold him closer, trying to soothe him, but his little face is still scrunched up like he’s ready to let loose a wail any minute. I pat his bottom, but that doesn’t seem to be helping either.
“Hey, buddy, what’s going on?” Stanley, who is sitting on the bed next to me with his arm around my shoulders, reaches out and wraps the other around our son so that we’re both enfolded in the safety of his arms.
Instantly, Conrad quiets, and he latches back on.
“He just needed his daddy’s touch,” I whisper.
“Touch by touch, I’ll be there for all of you.” Stanley kisses my temple, and tears well in my eyes. How is it possible to be this happy? To have this much good in your life? I give all the credit to the man beside me.
Call it magic. Call it luck. I don’t care what you call it, because whatever it is, it’s also love. So much love, my heart can hardly contain it.
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
Stanley
We’ve been married for nine years today. My mother-in-law took Conrad, and my parents took Royce, Owen, and Grant. At first, Lena didn’t want to let them go. She wanted to celebrate our nine years of marriage with the evidence of that love—our sons—but I convinced her that a few hours of “just us” time was what we needed.
With four boys aged seven and under running around the house, it’s hard to find adult time, but we make it work. Obviously, we’ve got our four boys as proof that it can be done. Trust me, we’ve gotten creative.
“How long has it been since we’ve sat to eat breakfast together, just the two of us?” I ask, taking a sip of my coffee.
“Royce is seven, so…” Her voice trails off as we both chuckle.
“It feels like yesterday when we first brought him home from the hospital,” I reminisce.
“They’re growing up so fast.” She clears her throat. My wife gets choked up whenever she thinks about how quickly our boys are growing up. When they tell you not to blink because it goes by in the blink of an eye, it’s the truth. I can’t believe we have a seven-year-old.
“I’m stuffed.” Lena pushes her plate to the side. I made biscuits and gravy—one of her favorites—after our parents picked up the boys bright and early. They’d planned to go out for breakfast, all of them before they split ways. “It was delicious, as always. Thanks for cooking.” She stands to clear her plate, but I stop her by gently placing my hand on her arm.
“I’m not full yet.”
“Oh, okay, I’ll make you another plate.” She shifts slightly to go back to the kitchen, but my gentle yet firm hold keeps her from moving.
“Nah, only you’ve got what will fill me up.” I tug gently, and she falls into me. Before she knows what’s happening, I push my plate away and lift her to sit on the table in front of me.
“Stanley. We eat here.” She’s laughing and trying to scold me at the same time. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care.
“That’s what I’m doing.” I push open her robe, and my wife automatically spreads her legs for me. There’s no use in fighting it. I want her, and we’re kid-free; time is of the essence. Besides, I can see the need in her eyes. I can hear it in her voice. She wants this just as badly as I do.
I settle her legs on either side of me where I’m still sitting on the kitchen chair and gently run my hands up her calves. “Do you know how hard it was to sit here and watch you eat, moaning around every bite?”
“It was good.” She licks her lips.
“You’re better.” I nip at her thigh, making her laugh.
“There is nothing better than comfort food,” she counters.
“I couldn’t agree more.” Leaning in, I place a kiss on her lower abdomen, just above where we both want my mouth to be.
“So fucking sweet,” I murmur. “Lie back, baby.” Reaching around her, I push the plates out of the way. I hear them clacking together and the sound of a fork hitting the floor. I'm not sure, but I’m too turned on to care. I’ll clean it up later. After I’m full. I smirk at my own thoughts.
“What’s that look?” she asks.
“I was thinking about cleaning up what just fell off the table, but I would do it after I’ve finished my breakfast.”
She laughs softly. “You have a big appetite.” She bites down on her bottom lip, and my cock thickens.
My hands roam over her body. When I reach her spectacular tits, thanks to our boys, I tweak her nipples, one, then the other, causing her back to arch off the table. I let my fingers trail over her belly, and goose bumps break out across her skin. “I love that after all this time, nine years of being married, I still have this effect on you.”