There was no more waiting until the kids were asleep, no more sneaking off into closets, no more trying to squeeze a quickie in before they got home from school.
Nope, Colson just stripped me bare-ass naked right there in the middle of the living room at ten a.m., dropping down behind me as I spread my legs and arched backward so his tongue could find my clit, work me upward until my legs were shaking before standing up, freeing his cock as he pressed me forward against the door, and fucked me from behind until—as he predicted—the house wasn't quiet anymore.
"God, that never gets old," I decided afterward, leaning back into him, taking a deep breath, breathing in that comforting spicy scent of the cologne I loved. So much so that I might have threatened to drown him in the new cologne he once tried out a couple years back.
"No, it doesn't," Colson agreed, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. "Uh oh," he added when we both heard the doors slamming at the same time.
It had been a long time since we had done the "we aren't decent for company" shuffle, and I nearly fell on my face twice while trying to jam my legs back into my pants and suddenly twisted panties.
Colson threw my sweatshirt over my head, waiting for me to ram my hands in the sleeves before he walked to the front door, pulling it open just before Jacob stabbed the key in the lock.
"Oh hey!" he said, jolting back, eyes going wide.
I was biased, of course, but my son had grown into a handsome man. Tall and strong, gone were the days when he looked like some Tim Burton character—all arms and legs, skinny to the point of being freaky-looking.
He was wearing—as he always was these days—his black Karate Gi.
See, he hadn't exactly had the same aspirations I had for him. Cardiovascular surgery became a nonstarter when I realized he had a pretty strong aversion to blood.
He had, with some firm nudging from both Colson and me as well as his biological father, gone off to college.
But he had studied business, then came right back to Navesink Bank to open his own karate dojo in the old stomping ground of the Third Street gang.
They'd never recovered as an organization, but there were always little groups bent on pulling the local at-risk kids into a shady lifestyle.
Jacob, once one of those kids himself, wanted to do something to stop that predatory behavior, teach the kids some discipline and respect, help them grow into men. Like karate had ultimately done for him.
Fallon had been the one to front the money for the dojo. Both because he was a good man once he grew up a bit, and life threw curveball after curveball at him and his organization, but also because it was in the club's vested interest to continue to branch out to legitimate ventures even as they kept their one-percent legacy going.
"We didn't know you were stopping by," I said, smiling at him as I walked up under Colson's arm to smile at our son.
"We weren't planning on it," Jacob said, moving to the side so Layne, his girl of four years, moved to stand next to him.
I knew it the moment I saw her.
The watery, wonder-filled eyes.
The kind of green tint to her skin.
But the massive smile on her face.
"Come in," I invited, rushing them into the kitchen, fussing over them in a way that had Colson—who clearly wasn't as in-the-know as I was—looked at me with pinched-together brows. "Okay, out with it," I demanded, practically bouncing at the idea.
"Well," Jacob said, looking at Colson as he put his arm around Layne. "We are going to have a baby," he said, smile a little awestruck at the idea.