Page 117 of Finders Keepers

I tense involuntarily, my mind racing. What does he want to try? A spike of anxiety ripples through me.

Matt never asked permission, he just took.

No.

No thinking about Matt.

Not now.

I banish the thought forcefully, mentally slamming a door on those memories. Instead, I focus on the here and now. On Gavin, who studies me with such reverence, looking at me like I’m something to be savored, something precious and deeply desired. The way he waits, patient and still, for my answer makes my chest tighten with emotion.

“Yes,” I breathe, my heart pounding so hard I’m certain he can hear it now. My fingers curl slightly into the bedsheets beneath me, anticipation making every nerve ending come alive.

He doesn’t need further invitation. Slowly, he lowers himself to my center, his fingers deftly sliding off my underwear. I lift my bottom up from the bed to help the process and then he lowers his head further. His tongue starts to make slow, languid strokes, teasing me, tasting me. My breath catches as pleasure sparks through me, and I thread my fingers through his hair, urging him closer.

He takes his time, exploring every inch with his mouth, the coarse brush of his jawline tickles the inside of my thighs and I squirm under his attention, I arch off the bed as sensations I’ve denied myself for so long come rushing back.

Then he surprises me, his tongue still working its magic, I feel him slowly add a finger, and then another one, working them inside me. It’s an exquisite combination, his tongue on my sensitive nub and his fingers filling me. It’s too much stimulation, my body is on fire with a need I haven’t felt in so long.

I’m teetering on the edge, my breath coming in short gasps, and then he hits that spot with his fingers. It sends me spiraling into an intense orgasm that rips through my body. My hands fly to my mouth to muffle my cries as my legs clench around his head. He doesn’t stop, riding out the waves with me, prolonging the pleasure until I’m a boneless, trembling mess beneath him. My body shakes with the force of my release, and I’m left feeling utterly spent and satisfied.

Finally, he lifts, a satisfied smile curving his lips. “Better?” he asks, his eyes glinting with a mixture of desire and triumph.

I can only nod, my breath still coming in short gasps. “That was…” I trail off, unable to find the words to describe what just happened.

He chuckles, the sound sending a fresh wave of desire through me. “What can I say? Pleasing the birthday girl is my top priority today.”

I reach up, tangling my fingers in his hair again, and pull him to me for a kiss. This man, this incredible man, just gave me something I didn’t even know I needed.

Iblink awake, and my heart immediately begins racing as I realize Sophie’s not curled up next to me. Nugget’s missing too. His usual spot at the foot of the bed is empty. He came back in here once Gavin let him outside to go potty earlier this morning after our…well after Gavin helped me relax.

No, no, no.

My chest constricts as I scramble out of bed, nearly tripping over my own feet. The door’s cracked open, I didn’t leave it open. I’m sure of it.

Yanking a pair of shorts from my duffel bag, I pull them on with trembling hands. My mind spins with horrible possibilities as I rush toward the door.

The smell hits me first. Warm vanilla, cinnamon, something cooking. Then I hear it, Sophie’s giggle, followed by Gavin’s low murmur.

I round the corner into the kitchen, and the sight before me stops me in my tracks. Sophie stands on a chair next to Gavin at the counter, both wearing matching aprons. She’s carefully dipping bread into a bowl with what looks like an egg mixture while Gavin supervises. Nugget is lounging on his doggy bed in the kitchen, his head pops up as soon as he spots me.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMMY!” Sophie’s voice fills the kitchen as she spots me and then her hands are on her hips.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping. Our surprise isn’t ready yet.”

The vice grip around my chest loosens. She’s safe. She’s here. I cross the kitchen in three steps and scoop her up, holding her close, breathing her in.

“Mommy, you’re squishing me!” She wiggles in my arms, but I can hear the smile in her voice.

“Sorry, baby.” I loosen my grip but don’t let go completely, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“We’re making French toast,” she stage-whispers, as if sharing a state secret. “With cinnamon!”

“I can see that.” My voice wavers slightly as I take in the scene, the bowl of batter, fresh berries laid out in a colander, powdered sugar waiting to be sprinkled. They’ve thought of everything.

Gavin watches me, his expression shifting from cheerful to concerned. “We were planning to surprise you with breakfast in bed,” he says softly, understanding flickering in his eyes. He must have seen the panic on my face when I first walked in.

“That’s…” I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady. “That’s so thoughtful, but would it be okay if we all ate together in here instead?”

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