Page 73 of Make It Without You

Sitting up, I push him back to where he’s lying down. I crawl over his body and straddle his lap, running my hands over his torso, tracing his tattoos and flipping the hoop of his nipple ring, feeling his cock jump under me, I state, “Well I’m not dating anyone. I assume you and Dylan will be enough for me to handle. And if I recall, again, you said once the school year ended that you were making me yours. Do I need to keep reminding your old man brain?”

“That I did,” Adam agrees. He’s about to continue speaking when my stomach grumbles loud enough to be heard over the music. I fall into the crook of his neck, laughing because what a time for an interlude.

“Okay,” he says through laughter. “Food first and then I make you mine.”

“Deal,” I agree against his lips and hold on as he makes to get off the cabana. Holding on tighter as Adam gets up and walks us into the pool, our lips still loving together with the cool pool water a welcome salve to my hot skin.

My legs wrap tighter around his waist as we sink deeper into the pool.

“I thought you were hungry?” Adam asks. The sun has brought out the freckles over the bridge of his nose and cheeks and I mentally trace over each one.

“I am. But I wanna kiss you a little more.”

His eyebrows raise and the smirk that took my breath away the first time appears. “You do, do you?”

“Mm-hmm. Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, baby. That’s okay with me.”

His smile and half-mast eyelids disappear when our lips mesh together. Our hands roam as the summer sun shines down on us, heating our barely-cooled skin.

The smellof steak cooking on the grill rouses me from sleep. After Adam kissed me silly, he swiftly retreated from the pool and I pulled my body onto a pool hammock to let the summer sun warm my body. Looking around, I spot him on the deck with a look of concentration on his face and a beer grasped in his hand.

I never pictured myself dating a single dad. Let alone a man with tattoos and whose nipples are pierced. But I’m finding that all three of those things make Adam, Adam. And I like those things about him. Doesn’t hurt that he likes me the way I am. Trauma and all. He listens to me, talks with me and not to me, and he was especially respectful of the boundaries I had in place.

Sliding off the pool hammock, I swim my way to the pool steps. Climbing out of the pool, the food completely abandoned on the grill as Adam looks on when I walk up the pool steps.

“You are every wet dream come to life.” He tells me.

I snag a towel from the patio chair behind him and wrap it around my body. “Have a lot of wet dreams, do you?”

He takes a healthy sip of his beer. “Not at all.”

“Okay, macho man.” Dropping my towel, I pull on a white coverup dress.

It’s just around three in the afternoon and the summer sun has yet to let up on the shine or the heat. I apply a light layer of aloe vera lotion to help soothe my reddened skin and the relief is instant.

Walking up next to Adam, I loop my arm around his waist and peer over his shoulder.

“Steaks are almost done,” he announces. “The corn on the cob and potatoes are done.”

“It smells really good.” I praise.

“Thanks, baby. I have a few wine choices, but I think a red will pair best with the steak.”

“I’ll get it,” I announce and place a kiss on his shoulder. “Where is it?” I ask as I walk backward to the patio door.

“In the wine fridge on the far wall. And the wine glasses are in the cupboard right above.”

With a nod and a wink, I make quick work of getting the wine and glasses. I make another quick perusal of the space and realize this isn’t just a house where he raises Dylan. It’s a home where he and Dylan grow.

I walk with a spring in my step back out to the patio, placing the wine and glasses on the patio table. The wine opener sitting on the table beckons me to uncork the bottle. Adam places our food on the table as I fill my glass with a hefty pour of the rich red wine. His body heat encompasses me as I fill his glass up too and place the bottle on the table.

“Cheers,” Adam claims as he holds up his glass. “To new beginnings.”

I pick up my glass and clink it to his. “Cheers.”

We hold eye contact as we each take a sip of our wine.

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