Page 11 of Falling for My Son's Best Friend

CHAPTER SIX

Marie

The morning light was still grey as I pulled into the driveway. Robbie’s car was nowhere in sight and I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank god, I had some time to get ready. I let myself into the house and scampered up the stairs, headed straight for the bathroom, stepping under the hot spray. Perfect. The water pounded on my back and shoulders as I lathered my hair, letting out another sensuous sigh of enjoyment. Because I could still feel Trent in me, deep in my private places, but yeah, I could hardly face my son with another man’s smell all over me, wafting from my skin.

So I lathered quickly, rinsing off, and got dressed, toweling my hair dry before pulling on jeans and a sweater. But the new Marie was here. Instead of a baggy cardigan, I went with a tight sweater, one that curved over the sensuous shape of my breasts, highlighting my generous shape, and I picked out a pair of jeans that I hadn’t worn in years, the denim snug, hugging my hips, molding my behind, exaggerating my hourglass figure.

But I loved it, feeling sassy and combed my hair back, leaving the wet curls to dangle instead of clipping them like I usually did. And with a sparkle to my eye, a slight prance to my step, I headed downstairs to make breakfast for my son. Robbie would be here soon and the best way to get him to open up was through food, the way to my son’s heart was through his stomach.

But when I stepped into the living room, the aroma of hot coffee wafted towards me, and I cocked my head, puzzled. Who could it be? Was Robbie here already? I made my way across the living room, and the sound of male voices sounded, low and masculine. Suddenly realization poured over me. Oh right, Robbie had a friend coming for the week, I’d forgotten that he’d mentioned a buddy was visiting, someone from college. No worries, I’d stocked up on groceries ahead of time, there was enough to feed a small army.

But when I stepped into the kitchen, my eyes grew wide, mouth dropping open in surprise. Because my son was at the stovetop sure, whipping up pancakes like a master chef, and I hadn’t realized he could cook. But even more shocking was the man standing on the other side of the small kitchen, downing a huge glass of orange juice. Huge, dark, towering, with the bluest of blue eyes, my lover looked back at me, confused, before his expression smoothed, neutral, giving away nothing.

“Hey Mom,” grunted Robbie from over by the stove. “This is Trent, my buddy from school. I told you, right? I told you I had a friend staying over for spring break, we’re hanging out this week.”

Flustered, I tried to gather my thoughts, head spinning. My dark, dangerous lover, the one who’d spilled his seed into me multiple times last night, was my son’s friend? Oh god, oh god, he was probably only twenty, the same as Robbie, I was old enough to be his mother. Literally, old enough to be his mother. Why hadn’t I noticed last night? I stole surreptitious looks at him now, in the bright light of day, and yes, he was younger looking than I’d first realized, there was no gray in his hair, body bursting with the power and vitality, all man, a full six four, towering, massive in my kitchen. My cheeks grew hot, insides melting as I tried to digest it all.

But Trent put his glass down casually, shooting me a confident, lazy grin.

“Hey Mrs. Sands,” he drawled, blue eyes all over me as my son cooked away. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

I started, eyes flying open, but then recovered quickly.

“I’m Ms. Sands,” I said, emphasizing the “Ms.” “And it’s nice to meet you too,” I said with only a small tremor in my voice, trying to sound normal. The big man shot me a knowing look, shivers rippling through my frame. What the fuck? What the fuck? I needed to take control, but at that very moment, a slight drip of his semen edged from my ass, a slow trickle slipping down my crack, uncomfortably wet and yet so fucking arousing. Oh god, oh god, how could this be happening? Why now, of all times? But I knew why. Trent had come in me so many times last night that I’d be feeling trickles of him dripping out from me for the rest of the day, small oozes here and there at the most unexpected times.

And like he could read my mind, the big man smiled at me again, blue eyes gleaming, big body relaxed but with an air of dominance and possession. Could my son feel it? Did Robbie sense that something was going on between his mother and friend, the sizzle in the air? Oh god, oh god. This was going to be the craziest week because the alpha male was here, in my kitchen, and we had a week together within the small confines of my house.

But my son continued, completely oblivious just like a teen, snorting at my insistence at being called “Ms.”

“My dad’s a giant fuck-up he left a long time ago,” he grunted, shoveling pancakes into a giant stack. “So yeah, my mom’s been single for years, you got any hook-ups for her?”

I turned beet red then, the top of my head almost blowing off. Because the man I’d had incredible sex with last night was standing right here, looking like a lazy lion, still shooting that grin my way, one side of his mouth quirked up at the corner, while my son tried to find me a date.

I jumped in fast.

“That’s not what Robbie means,” I said quickly. “What he means is that I’ve taken a break from dating since the divorce and am ready to get my feet wet once more,” I added hurriedly. “Slowly but surely, I’ll get out there.”

Robbie snorted again.

“Please Ma,” he said, “Dad was a fuck-up, he didn’t deserve you. I’m an adult now, and know what hapepend,” he continued. “You were way too nice for him for way too long, it was good that he left.”

I blushed furiously. It was so inappropriate to be having this conversation in front of a total stranger and yet, Trent wasn’t exactly a stranger either. He was my one-night lover, the man I’d woken to dozen of times during the night, welcoming his dick in me, craving it even, letting him take me wherever, whenever. My body grew hot again just thinking about it and shit, but my pussy moistened again, the slit still sore from his shaft. He’d been so hard, so huge, so dominating, making me come over and over again last night, and yet here I was, in my kitchen, being embarrassed by my own son. Go figure, having kids really is incredible, I would have sold Robbie for five dollars at the moment.

But Trent smiled lazily at me again, that big form relaxed, leaning against the counter.

“How’s it going?” he asked. “The dating I mean.”

I went from slightly pink to beet red then.

“Good, good,” I said quickly, trying to hide my embarrassment. “Now Robbie, what are your plans for the week? Did you guys have plans, or were you going to relax and hang out?” I said quickly, trying to change the subject.

My son turned to me, sliding the heaping stack of pancakes on the kitchen counter before turning to grab some maple syrup.

“Probably just relax,” he said casually. “Trent here’s got some time off from spring training, so we’re going to lie low for a while, catch up around town.”

And I swung to his friend, eyes suddenly inquisitive. Spring training? For what? Reading my mind, Trent nodded in confirmation.

“I’m taking some time off from school,” he rumbled lazily. “Working the minor leagues, hoping to be called up to the majors soon.”

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