I questioned her decision, asked if she thought he felt the same, and bit my tongue—hard—when she said she wanted to have babies with him.
I met him one time over the summer. She waited on him hand and foot. The man sat on the couch watching TV while Sadie and I discussed Everleigh’s birth announcement party. Sadie did most of the talking, all of the talking. I’d been roped into this when I offered to help if she needed it. I should have known she’d reel me in as a co-party planner.
I didn’t even know people threw parties for birth announcements. But I did my part. I met up with her when I was in town, like she wanted. I agreed to have everything she ordered shipped to my lake house on the family property and delivered to the main estate for the party.
Dash didn’t even care that I was here. My presence didn’t threaten him one bit. I’ve seen the way other guys react when I’m around their girlfriends. The fact that Dash showed more interest in the game than the dude hovering over his woman—and I was hovering close, just to provoke him—spoke in volumes. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wonder if he were gay. But then he wasn’t eyeing me, so I knew that wasn’t the case. Regardless, something is up with him.
Sadie stumbles out of the hallway, rubbing her eyes. She looks sexy in her white t-shirt, leggings, furry socks, and rumpled maple-colored locks.
“I thought I smelled eggs. Why did you let me sleep so late?”
“You needed it.”
She faces the large window and stretches her arms high above her head, her back arching as her chest pushes forward. Sunlight spills over her, revealing her pert breasts and hardened nipples.
Should I tell her that her shirt is see through? If I do, she’ll accuse me of choosing it on purpose. I didn’t. I grabbed the first one in her drawer. Same with the thong. I didn’t dig through her clothes; I was too busy holding her steady. She was so tired she couldn’t stand without swaying.
The memory of her damp, naked skin against my side last night has me hard.
I’ve seen Sadie in a bikini. I’ve seen her in a tank top and daisy dukes at the farm. She has a nice body and a great ass. I never focus on her for too long and always avert my gaze, wanting to keep my promise. Friends. We’d only ever be friends. It’s cool. I have more than enough friends with benefits. I can be platonic with Sadie. Only now that I’ve seen her naked, I know the perfection underneath the clothes. Hell, I felt it against my body and again when I dressed her last night. Not on purpose. I wasn’t feeling her up. Dressing someone who’s standing and wobbly is harder than I thought it’d be, even someone as dainty as Sadie.
I usually date women who are above average in height. They’re sexy as hell, but I wouldn’t call them dainty. It’s easier to navigate things with women who are taller. I don’t have to bend down or hoist them up to my level. But having Sadie in my arms to protect and care for last night drew out a different side of me. It didn’t help knowing that I could lift her and maneuver her however I want, and wherever I want, either. The things that I could do with her sexually…
My dick strains against the zipper of my jeans.
“Can I help?” She comes up behind me, standing way too close for comfort in my current condition.
“I got it. Why don’t you sit over there.” I point the spatula at the couch. “I’ll bring you everything when it’s done.”
“Okay.” She giggles and shuffles toward the adjoining family room.
“What’s so funny?”
“You cooking eggs in my kitchen as if we just hooked up.”
“If we’d just hooked up, I wouldn’t be cooking you breakfast.”
“Right.” She nods and drops onto the couch. “You would be long gone by now.”
I was going to say, I’d have her naked and on her back again. I don’t typically stay for more after a night of sex, but I suspect I’d want more if I were to sleep with Sadie. More to fully explore everything she has to offer. More than she probably knows. Her boyfriend is so self-indulging, I doubt he knows or cares if she orgasms.
“Did Dash call you?” My jaw tightens. Undeserving prick. “Invite him over. I’d love to chat with him.” And by chat, I mean kick his ass.
She stares out the bright window, obscured by the sheers blocking the view.
“Sadie? Did you hear me?” I add salt and pepper to the eggs before transferring some to a plate with the buttered toast.
“Yeah.” She keeps her gaze on the window.
Something is definitely going on here. “Do you want honey or jelly on your toast?”
That gets her attention. She turns her head to me. “I’ve never had honey on my toast before.”
“My mom loves it.”
“Really? I can’t imagine your mom eating anything like that. She’s so proper.”
“And honey isn’t proper?” I tease and slather honey on the toast.