Page 26 of The Perfect Snipe

And the worst part is, while I’m not exactly sure how she feels about what happened, it kept me awake most of the night. And hard.

The way she looked up at me with those big doe eyes, her lips curved in a wicked smile. She was so fucking wet, her pussy dripping as she rubbed herself while I fucked her mouth. That moan she let out around my cock, vibrating against my skin.

Hell, even the way she teased me until finally taking pity on me. And the way her warm, wet mouth sucked me in . . . Had to jerk off twice since getting the best blowjob of my damn life.

Which is a problem.

I rake my fingers through my hair, giving it a slight tug. Seriously, what the hell was I thinking?

I wasn’t, that’s the fucking problem.

And now I crossed a line with her.

One that Wyatt will punch me in the face for if he finds out about it. Nora will cut my balls off for sure.

Anything sexual with Cat will never—can’t ever—happen again.

Thank God the kids stayed asleep. Can’t imagine the shitshow that would’ve occurred if they’d walked in. Forget having to explain what we were actually doing, but . . . what if they thought Cat and I were together?

I shake my head.

No, this is why the rare times I hook up are during away games. It keeps everything distant. No relationships. No bonds between a person and the kids forming.

Or me.

I’m not ready for that. Don’t think I will ever be.

Definitely not putting myself through losing someone I love again.

Grabbing my phone, I read the text she sent fifteen minutes ago.

Cat:Stella and Mason ate breakfast. They’re watching TV. Heading out.

Since it’s my day off, it means the kids are with me. Unlocking my screen, I send her a text back.

Me:Thanks

Simple. To the point.

Heading down to the kitchen, I poke my head into the living room first. My daughter is curled up on the couch locked into some comedy show. My son isn’t with her so he must be downstairs.

At least I don’t have to deal with any bickering right now. Don’t really have the energy for it.

Grabbing an empty mug, I place it under the Keurig and hit the button, scrubbing my hands over my face, then look over at the clock on the oven.

Mason’s got to get ready for his game. Wyatt’s taking him since Stella has her dance recital today.

Sitting on the chair at the island, I stare out of the double French doors into the backyard. Weather’s overcast today, which makes me want to crawl back under the covers and sleep.

Stella wanders into the kitchen, grabbing some juice from the fridge. “Cat and Grandma Rosa are coming to the recital.”

“Oh?”

I knew Cat was, but I didn’t expect her grandmother too.

“Yeah, so make sure you look nice. Promise, no jeans.”

My gaze narrows at her. “Stella?”

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