Page 158 of One Big Little Secret

All mine for the taking, if I’m man enough to reach out.

And Iwantto.

I want to know what life will look like with Salem Hopper, when I can step up to be a dad and her man.

This time, I want forever.

19

ONE BIG WIN (SALEM)

As the weeks trickle by and winter thaws, we start living part-time at Patton’s place.

Entire weekends plus half the evenings during the week.

At first, I was worried Arlo would question it, but he’s taken the big change in stride.

After all, what kid wouldn’t want to spend more time in the ‘Pat Cave’? I can’t stop laughing at the goofy nickname Patton came up with for his place.

Pretty ironic when the place isn’t that cavernous when people are there.

It’s modern and warm and infinitely more than anything I deserve. The place would make my parents eat their materialistic hearts out.

But it’s not the house that has me spinning.

It’s the plain, cold fact that I can’t get enough of Patton Rory.

The craving feels like a force of nature, this weird emotional magnetism that only gets stronger with every visit. The more I get used to being around him, the more time I want to spend with him.

The fewer nights I want to sleep alone.

The best mornings are the ones where I wake up in his arms.

Well, sort of.

My butt always seems to be magically glued to his dick every time. It only takes a few minutes to feel him gootherplaces.

It’s no surprise, then, to wake up with my head halfway off the pillow, his arm draped over my waist, and my legs twined in his.

I sleepily regain consciousness before shifting until my back presses against his bare chest.

God, how is he always so warm?

It feels too good on these late winter mornings.

His heat soaks into me. I bite my lip when I feel his hard-on. The movement makes him stir and his embrace tightens.

“Patton?” I whisper. I grind against him, this time deliberately, feeling him harden to his full glory.

My eyes flick to the charger clock on his nightstand.

Oof. We won’t have long before Arlo wakes—if we have any time at all—and there’s a little something I’d like to finish before then.

“It’s morning. Wakey-wakey,” I whisper.

“I’m up.” His hand creeps up my shirt and cups my breast before I can say another word. “You really think I’d miss my favorite wake-up call?”

“Would you? I’m not wearing panties.”

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