Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
I thrust my hips. “It’s okay. I’ll take the chance if you will.”
Clenching around him, I started to orgasm. His body shook as his warm cum filled me. I continued riding him slowly until our climaxes wound down. It was fast and furious, which was what we needed, because we didn’t have all the time in the world. In fact, the clock was ticking fast.
Collapsing over him, I lay on his chest and listened to his ragged breaths.
Dax slapped my ass. “You’re a naughty little massage therapist. I should report you.”
A door slammed in the distance.
“Shit!” He groaned.
I hopped up off of him and ran to my clothes. “So much for two whole hours to roleplay.”
He threw his pants on. “At least I was smart enough to lock the door after we came in here.”
I buttoned my blouse. “Why are they back so soon?”
“Daddy! Mommy! Where are you?” a little voice called from behind the door.
The dog was barking like crazy now, too. Commence the circus. Back to reality.
“They weren’t due back until three,” Dax said as he threw his shirt over his head.
She was at the door now. “Daddy, are you in there?”
Dax buckled his belt. “Just a second, honeypie!”
I could hear Shannon’s voice. “Fawn, leave Daddy for a bit. I think he might be busy.”
She was totally on to us.
After we were both dressed, Dax caught his breath as he unlocked the door and opened it. He ran his hand through his messed-up hair. “Hey! You guys are back early!”
Shannon surveyed the space, noticing the table. “Just like old times in here.”
The dog scurried in behind them.
“I was giving him a massage.” I cleared my throat. “Needed to brush up on my skills… You know, in case I ever go back to it.”
“Sure.” Shannon smiled knowingly. “Anyway, we’re back early because Miss Fawn decided she wanted mac and cheese at home instead of going out to lunch after the show. I texted you a heads up, Wren, but it doesn’t look like you got it.”
My phone was upstairs, so a lot of good that did.
I bent to lift my daughter. “Did you have fun at the theater?”
She nodded.
They’d gone to a matinee performance of The Lion King. Our little girl loved going to see musicals and movies.
Some days, I still couldn’t believe I had a daughter. Dax and I had gotten married six months after our engagement. We had a small ceremony with just Rafe and my dad in attendance in Bermuda. Our now four-year-old daughter, Fawn Rafaela Moody, was born less than a year after our wedding. I’d always thought Fawn was a pretty name. It had a similar ring to it as Wren. But when I realized a baby deer was called a fawn, I knew that was the name for our daughter. And she was the spitting image of her dad, our new purpose in life, and the apple of her uncle Rafe’s eye. Rafe had recently graduated from MIT and was about to start a job as a computer software engineer. He had his own apartment now in Cambridge.
“What did you like most about the musical?” I asked her.
“I cried when Simba’s dad died, but it was a happy ending.”
“I think Daddy had a happy ending, too.” Shannon snorted.
I laughed, even though Dax looked annoyed. I loved Shannon. We were so lucky to still have her in our lives. She’d warned us that in the next couple of years she’d be retiring to New Orleans—for real this time. But we’d deal with that when the time came.
After Shannon left the room, our daughter seemed transfixed by something on the shelf in Dax’s office. She pointed. “Mommy, what are those seashells?”
Dax and I froze. She’d spotted the shell where Dax kept Maren’s ashes and the smaller shell next to it, which now held Winston’s. It was the first time Fawn had ever pointed them out.
Our beloved dog had passed away right before Fawn was born, so she never met our big Fluffernutter, who incidentally loved me the most by the time he died. After Winston crossed the rainbow bridge, we hadn’t planned to get another dog. But when Fawn turned one, we’d adopted a beautiful white Pomeranian. We’d visited the shelter “just to look,” and I’d begged Dax to let me take her home. He’d told me we could on one condition, that he be the one to name her. Of course, I agreed, and that’s how we ended up with our little Alabaster.
“You never noticed those shells before, sweetie?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“Can I touch the big one?” she asked.
Dax looked reflective as he stared up at the shell.
“It’s a seashell…” I told her. “But it has something inside that’s very important to Daddy. So it’s not a toy.”
She looked at me earnestly.
“Make sure you just look at it from afar. Never touch either of those shells, okay? Because they can break.”