Page 101 of Headed for Home

Cassidy rests her forehead on mine, our bodies joining in a steady tempo. “Are you happy?”

“Fuck, I’m delirious with joy.”

Her hum paints my lips. “Same.”

The pace rises and falls, taking our pleasure to the peak. It doesn’t take long before we’re both trembling. Cassidy cries out when my barbell nudges her clit. My composure falters as her spasms clench me in an unforgiving fist. Flames lash across my lower back, spreading until I’m ready to explode. She shatters first and triggers my release.

I flood her with warmth while she swims in relief. We tread through the depths of bliss, our labored efforts doing little to steam the glass. But that doesn’t impact the success of our smutty scene.

Cassidy snuggles against me. Her features are relaxed and sated. Pride expands in my chest while I reinforce our embrace, bringing us impossibly closer. An exaggerated sigh wheezes from her.

“That was…”

My fingers skip along the notches of her spine. “A climatic ending of our own making.”

“Definitely deserves going on a shirt. Oh, wait.” Her laughter jostles our angle and we groan.

“Still in the mood for me to show you off as mine?”

That seductive glint hasn’t left her stare. “Always.”

Giggles pull me from the daze I accidentally stumbled in. The warmth in my belly cools as the grocery store returns to focus. Charlie and Kenzie are whispering, their grins stretched wide. I pull the cart to a stop and give them my full attention.

“What’s so funny, moo-boo?” A smile pops on my lips when they don’t fuss about the combined nickname that’s apparently not cool anymore.

“We passed the snacks, Mommy!” My daughter thumps her forehead. “See?”

My gaze slides to where she’s pointing, at the aisle very much behind us. “How did that happen?”

But the question is rhetorical. Not that my kids know that. Thoughts of Drake have been distracting me since the beginning of July. The obsession is worse than normal after the sexcapades marathon we banged out last weekend. It’s becoming quite inconvenient, especially when my kids notice.

Charlie laughs loud enough to startle me. “You’re thinking about Rake.”

My cheeks burn. “How do you know?”

Kenzie joins in and the chorus of their amusement attracts several stares. “You got hearts in your eyeballs. Pinkie Pie gets ‘em too.”

“But only when he’s lookin’ at Mommy,” Charlie chimes in.

A dreamy exhale precedes the trick flips in my belly. As if I need encouragement to fantasize about Drake. His unique blends of romance and grand gestures are my kryptonite. He’s a tug in my gut stronger than basic instincts. I shake off the temptation to text him and whip the cart in reverse.

“Okay, we need chips and cookies. Your game starts soon, monkey moo.”

“And Daddy is gonna be there,” Kenzie squeals.

My little boy punches the air. “The Colts are gonna win!”

I’m reaching for a bag of Ruffles when a man appears at the end of the aisle. He looks familiar, but I can’t place him. His face is one of those that blends into a crowd. It’s strange and unsettling.

“Hello, Ms. Brooks. I thought that was you. What a pleasant surprise.”

The coaxing edge in his tone is creepier than a tarantula crawling toward me. Ice fills my veins as recognition slams into me. It’s a shock I don’t immediately curse his name. Kenzie and Charlie scurry behind my back, sensing the threat. Our reactions probably fill him with satisfaction.

Without taking my gaze off him, I grab treats for the team and turn to get us out of this situation. The enemy doesn’t get the hint. He jogs to get ahead, cutting off our retreat. I slam to a halt to avoid a collision but he could benefit from a strike of common sense. My pulse hammers as I realize we’re caught in a trap.

“Let us pass,” I demand.

“Mommy,” Kenzie murmurs and yanks on my dress. “Who’s that man?”

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