Page 71 of Dr. Stone
“Wow. Cutting-edge cardiothoracic surgeries as a bedtime story,” I said, stepping into the room to see my son’s amused face better. “At this rate, we’ll never get you back to bed, mister.”Brandon’s eyes lit up, his smile widening like he’d just found a new best pal.
“I couldn’t find his books, so I improvised,” Jace joked. “Turns out my main man finds it just as fascinating as I do.”
“Yeah?” I asked when Brandon chuckled. “You need to get to bed,” I grinned, brushing a hand over his hair. “And I’m sorry—I should’ve told you his books are in the closet.” I lifted Brandon into my arms. “Let me get him settled, and I’ll meet you out there in a second.”
I carried him to his crib, tucked his favorite toy beside him, and turned on the soft lullaby music. Once he was cozy and content, I slipped back into the living room.
“Well, so much for trying to recreate what we had on that yacht,” I teased, walking over to where Jace sat on my sofa.
The next thing I knew, I was in his arms, straddling him instinctively. His lips trailed up the center of my throat while his hands kneaded along my thighs, his eyes sparking with humor and hunger.
“Oh, gorgeous, if you think a two-pound dog and your adorable son are going to stop what I’ve been wanting since that night, you’re sorely mistaken,” he said, gaze locking on mine.
Jace’s mouth was on mine before I could suggest moving to the bedroom. His lips closed over my breast through the thin fabric of my shirt, his fingers slipping inside me like they’d never left, finding that spot as if it had been made for him alone.
“God,” I gasped, panting.
I dug my knees into the couch, shifting to give him easier access. My hand tangled in his thick blond hair, tugging him harder against my breast.
The surge building in me was hotter and sharper than before, the orgasm I’d been denied earlier rushing back with a vengeance.
Jace groaned when I moaned, his fingers stroking deeper while his thumb circled the bundle of nerves that made me shake. His other hand popped the last of my buttons, freeing my breasts to his mouth as his palm slid down to grip my ass.
“Fuck,” I whispered when his fingers twisted and pulled me closer to the edge.
“Jesus, you’re drenched,” he murmured, voice rough.
“I want you inside me,” I demanded, desperate for the thick length of him to unravel me the way only he could.
My hand slipped into his boxers, wrapping around him—hard, hot, and pulsing.
“Yes,” he growled, teeth clinging to my nipple when I slicked his shaft with the precum leaking from him.
And then—click, click, click. The toenails. The barking. Duke.
“Are you kidding me?” Jace muttered, half-pissed, half-desperate.
I was in his arms again, on our way back to my room, and laughing as he tried to keep the moment alive. It was pure comedy: Jace, determined to salvage our night, while Duke launched a full-scale ankle assault like a pint-sized security guard.
“Jace,” I tried, choking back laughter, “slow down before you break the damn door—or the dog.”
“Don’t even think about him,” Jace grit out.
He tossed me onto my bed, my laughter bubbling harder, then spun to herd the relentless little beast out.
But Duke was having none of it. In full Rottweiler cosplay, he darted and barked, nipping and feinting like a two-pound SWAT team. Jace lunged, failed, cursed, lunged again.
The barking was enough to wake Brandon, and as hilarious as it was, I knew I had to intervene before this night ended in chaos.
“Come here, menace,” Jace snarled, lunging again.
“I’ve got him,” I said, scooping up my frazzled little tyrant.
“Well, look at you,” Jace shot back, eyes blazing at the dog.
“All two pounds of him,” I laughed.
“Two pounds of diabolical energy can go a long way,” Jace exhaled, finally smirking at Duke. “Guess I really screwed myself, using you as bait to get the girl.”
