Page 72 of After the Rain

There was no rush. No frenzy. Just the kind of slow, aching intensity that built and built, every movement pushing us higher until my whole body trembled beneath him.

Wade's hand slid between us, wrapping around my cock, stroking me in rhythm with every thrust. It was too much—in the best possible way. The stretch of him inside me, the tenderness of his mouth on my skin, the heat of his palm guiding me toward the edge.

When I came, it was with his name on my lips and tears pricking my eyes, my whole body clenching around his cock as pleasure ripped through me like sunlight breaking open.

He followed moments later, groaning deep in his chest as he spilled inside me, holding me so tightly I thought we might never come apart.

When it was over, he stayed inside me, his weight comforting, grounding. He kissed my temple, my shoulder, the center of my chest.

We didn’t speak for a while. We didn’t need to.

Eventually, we untangled and made our way to the shower—where Wade proved he wasn’t quite done worshipping me yet. But that was a different kind of sweet chaos, full of laughter, slippery hands, and the kind of trust that couldn’t be faked.

Cooper's appearance in the kitchen created a moment of gentle testing as he observed Mr. Mitchell at their breakfast table.

"Did you have a sleepover, Mr. Mitchell?" Cooper asked, climbing into his usual chair with matter-of-fact curiosity. "That's cool. Can you help me with my cereal?"

The easy acceptance reassured both Wade and me that our relationship didn't threaten Cooper's security. If anything, he seemed pleased to have his favorite adult figures together in one place.

The school drop-off routine became charged with new intimacy as Wade and I navigated our first public interaction as lovers. Our careful professional distance was undermined by shared glances and barely suppressed smiles that made our connection obvious to anyone paying attention.

Mrs. Garrett's suspicious stare from across the parking lot confirmed that people were indeed watching.

"Call me later?" Wade asked quietly as Cooper ran toward the school entrance.

"Try to stop me," I replied, and his grin was worth whatever scrutiny we'd face.

That afternoon, Dr. Williams called me to her office with news I'd barely dared to hope for.

"The school board has voted to dismiss all complaints against you," she said without preamble. "Lack of evidence, overwhelming community support, and clear evidence of targeted harassment rather than legitimate professional concern."

The relief was so overwhelming I had to sit down.

"Your job is secure, Ezra. The board recognizes that this was an attempt to weaponize prejudice against a popular teacher, and they're not having it."

I called Wade immediately, unable to contain my excitement.

"This calls for celebration," he declared, his joy and relief matching my own. "Dinner, champagne, and a proper night together without worry hanging over us."

"I love the sound of that."

"I love you," he said simply, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

As I left school that afternoon, feeling professionally vindicated and personally hopeful, I looked forward to celebrating with Wade and Cooper. The future felt bright and possible in ways it hadn't since our troubles began.

But as I drove toward Wade's house, I didn't notice the car following at a distance, or the camera lens trained on my every move. Victory, it turned out, could make enemies more desperate.

And Mrs. Garrett wasn't finished with us yet.

SEVENTEEN

STOLEN MOMENTS

WADE

The pizza boxes were empty, Cooper was sugar-crashed from birthday cake leftovers, and Ezra was loading the dishwasher with the casual domesticity that still made my chest tight with wonder. Tuesday evening had brought the news we'd been holding our breath for—the school board had officially dismissed all complaints against Ezra, declaring them baseless harassment rather than legitimate professional concerns.

"Victory pizza was the right call," I said, watching Cooper arrange his remaining birthday presents for the fifteenth time since Sunday. "Though I think someone's about to crash harder than a meteor."

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