Page 36 of Stick Move

“Your pancakes,” I continue. “Do you like them…” I open my eyes wide. “Sp…” Camryn slows her jump. “Spicy?”

“Dead,” Noah mouths the word to me and I grin.

“Pancakes aren’t spicy,” Camryn announces and jumps from the bed. “Come on, you two.” She rushes past me, and her footsteps slap the floor as she runs down the hall.

“Really, Brighton?”

“Sorry,” I chuckle. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“That’s okay. That’s what I’ll say in response after I fuck you six ways to Sunday.” My body quivers as he shifts, a low groan catching in his throat as he cups his balls. “Shit. I’m probably not going to be able to have more kids if she keeps this up.”

“You’re going to have to wear a cup to bed.”

“Good idea. I’ll grab one from my locker next practice.” I laugh, but it dies an abrupt death as he pushes the blankets off, giving me a lovely view of his body. My gaze drops to his boxers, which hug him to perfection. I blatantly stare as he goes to his closet and pulls out a pair of sweats. He tugs them on and ties them at the waist. He runs his fingers through his mess of hair and my body warms.

I stand a little straighter. “You look like you need coffee.” I gesture with a nod toward the hall. “Do you have any?”

He shrugs on a t-shirt as Camryn screams for us. He winces. “I need about ten cups.” His phone pings, and he snatches it up from his nightstand. He reads something and shakes his head.

“Is everything okay?”

“Fucking Sage,” he tells me. “Now that the guys know I have a nanny, they’re begging me to come out with them.”

“Oh.” I swallow the weird lump pushing into my throat. “You should go. It’s Saturday. I can look after Camryn. It’s not a problem. I don’t have any plans.”

He angles his head, his dark eyes boring into me. “Last night we talked about rules, Sunshine.”

“Right.” I nod repeatedly, even though I have no idea what he’s getting at.

He comes closer, glances over my shoulder, and when he sees that the hall is empty, he puts his mouth close to my ear. “We probably should have talked more about the rules of fucking.”

“Okay.”

“I only fuck one woman at a time. If you and I are doing this, we’re exclusive while we are. Are you in agreement? You don’t fuck any other guys while you’re with me?”

A wave of euphoria washes over me. He wants to be exclusive—while we’re doing it. “I can…get behind that.”

“Good, and speaking of behind,” he taps my ass. “Get a move on it, and for the record, you do have plans tonight.” I open my mouth about to ask what he’s talking about when he gives me a grin so full of heat and promise I nearly orgasm on the spot.

“Right.”

He taps my ass again and a hard quiver of want goes through me. “Now let’s go see to those lumpy pancakes.”

“Right, sure.” I force my legs to move, and he’s close behind me as we walk down the hall. We cut through the living room and as we approach the kitchen, I ask, “What’s with the lumpy pancakes?”

He chuckles. “Far too often the pancakes I serve Camryn have lumps, so I told her they were wish lumps.”

“You did not?”

He shrugs. “What? We tell our kids Santa is real. We can’t have wish lumps?” I laugh and he gives me a sheepish look. “I panicked.”

“Then please, let me make the pancakes this morning.”

“She’s going to want lumps,” he warns as we approach the kitchen, the sounds of bells and whistles and beeps and horns reaching my ears.

“What’s she wishing for?” I ask quietly and slow my steps. He scrubs his face, and when he hesitates, I put my hand on his arm. “If you don’t want to tell?—”

“A mother.”

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