“Honey. The gears grinding in your brain are keeping me awake. What are you thinking about?” Gavin asked sleepily.
He’d probably think she was neurotic if she told him the truth. She hedged. “Just wondering if it was hard for you to leave Sierra with her mom.”
“Well that woke me up.”
“Sorry. This day has been epically long and I realized I hadn’t asked how that had gone.”
“Ellen was as happy to see Sierra as Sierra was happy to see her. I wonder how long that joy of being reunited will last.” He sighed. “It’s different being here now than it was before. I was only a phone call away if Sierra needed me. In the last seven months since Ellen has been in France, I’ve dealt with all Sierra’s major trauma and minor drama without Ellen’s input or interference. I worry even if Sierra needs me, she won’t call. Not knowing what she’s doing for the week I’m not here will drive me crazy.”
“You miss her.”
“Like a limb. So much of my life, so much of who I am, is being a parent.”
“I understand how that is, Gavin.”
“I know you do, which is why you won’t think it’s strange that I keep looking over my shoulder thinking she’ll barge in on us. Or expecting to hear her ransacking the kitchen at midnight for snacks. Or that she’ll plop beside me on the couch to show me some bizarre video on YouTube.” His hand tenderly brushed her spine. “But my selfish side is happy for the chance to be alone with you like this. No kid, no responsibilities. Just us.”
“Mmm-hmm. I called Rory and told her I arrived safely.”
“Rory still isn’t happy we’re involved.”
“Only because, like she pointed out, I’ve pretty much lived like a nun the last twenty-four years, with the whole abstinence and poverty thing.”
Gavin chuckled. “So her beef isn’t because I’ve got McKay blood?”
“No. She claims she’s worried I’ll get my heart broken, but the bottom line is she’s selfish. She doesn’t want to share me with you. Sierra is more mature than Rory when it comes to that.”
“Maybe because Sierra lives with us and sees us together every day. She did say she had a great time with Rory the night they went out.”
“Rory’s protective streak toward Sierra surprised me. Did you know they’re texting?”
“Huh. I can only hope Rory has a positive influence on Sierra.”
“Gavin. Sierra has been a model child, for the most part, since you moved to Wyoming.”
“But see, she was away from her mother’s influence. I’m a little fearful of how Sierra will act after two weeks with Ellen.”
Rielle rolled until she was on top of him. “Worrying won’t change anything. If I can take a break from work, you can take a break from parenting. So how about if I try and take your mind off it?”
Gavin sighed. “Well…you can try.”
“So you’ll be thinking about your ex-wife when I do…this?” Rielle reached down and jacked his shaft.
And no surprise Gavin lost the ability to think about anything by the time she finished with him.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
A week in Arizona with Rielle had been one of the best times of Gavin’s life, ranking next to the Disney World trip he’d taken with Sierra the year she’d turned nine.
He gave Rielle props for embracing the vacation mindset. She let him choose their daily activities—where they went, what they did, where they ate. But she couldn’t stop working completely. She cleaned the pool every morning before swimming laps.
After a few hours at the office had become more than half the damn day, he’d been a little tense walking in the door. Rielle noticed immediately, fixed him a drink and suggested he change into swimming trunks and come out to the pool.
He’d expected a fun, sexy swim. He hadn’t convinced her to have sex outside on the deck or in the pool since the first night. But she’d spread out a puffy blanket poolside and offered him a massage.
The warmth of the day, the strong drink and the sensation of Rielle’s oil-slicked hands on his arms, shoulders and back should’ve relaxed him. But his dick got so hard it dug into the concrete decking.
Then she turned him over and started on his front. Massaging every inch of his upper torso with coconut-scented oil. His jaw, his neck, his chest, his hands. Even his earlobes. When she’d told him to ditch the trunks, he’d happily obliged. She used that slick hand to jack his cock as she rubbed her mouth, teeth and her tits all over his chest. She sucked his nipples, bit his neck and stroked him until he squirted all over her hand and his belly.
When he’d found his mind, he’d opened his eyes to see her licking his come off her fingers. And then his stomach.
That was almost enough to make him hard again. She dove into the pool; he chased her. After hot and sexy water games, he’d carried her to the blanket, positioned her on hands and knees and fucked her from behind until she’d screamed.
Twice.
The next day Gavin drove her by the house he’d grown up in and the condo he’d lived in after the divorce. Then he’d shown her the schools he attended, the golf club where he and his dad played.
Rielle seemed melancholy after his trip down memory lane. He told her to dress up and he made reservations at the see-and-be-seen restaurant in Phoenix. They ran into a few of his colleagues, who invited them for a drink in the bar. Rielle attempted to retreat into her wallflower persona, but Gavin wouldn’t allow it. She was beautiful, smart, funny and an interesting woman. She made him happy and he wanted her—and everyone else—to see it. And for her—and everyone else—to understand she was his.
He didn’t take her on a tour of his office building until after his employees were gone for the day. Partially because he didn’t relish getting stopped a million times about business issues. But he also wanted her to see the city lights from his office window. Wanted her to know how many nights he’d spent up here alone. Working. Wondering if he’d ever have a life beyond the walls of this room.
Gavin had an almost desperate need for her—needing to meld his past and his future. He’d taken her against the glass window, looking down on the urban sprawl, her feet straddling the floor air conditioner vent. Cool air blew over the hot tissues as his cock slowly tunneled in and out of her wet pussy. Rielle was always ready for him, always eager. She had no idea what a turn-on that was, so he told her. Showed her. Shared his life and thoughts with her in ways he hadn’t known he was capable of.
She requested they stay in their last night, cooking together and dining outside. He’d scrounged up candles, placing them everywhere in the backyard, including floating some in the pool.
They hadn’t made love, but it was still the most romantic night he could remember.
Early January…
“Gavin.”
Come on, come on. “Dammit. It’s not working. Try a different play. God. I cannot believe they called that one twice in a row.”
“Gavin.”
“Hang on. This is third down.” The quarterback faked a handoff and then passed for six yards for first down. “Yes! That’s what I’m talking about.” He tossed a handful of popcorn in his mouth, eyes on the game. “What the fuck? Why are you putting him in? He can’t block for shit.”
“Gavin. Sierra’s not here.”
“I know. She comes home tomorrow.” He watched the handoff and the running back bobbled the ball. It bounced downfield until someone took his head out of his ass and covered it. “Lucky save.”
“Gavin.”
“Yeah, honey, just a sec.” It’s a wonder they won any games with the lousy plays they’d been calling this season. They didn’t have a running game, so it made zero sense why they’d tried that one—
“Gavin, I’m naked.”
Okay. That got his attention. He turned around.
A naked Rielle leaned against the door to his bedroom.
Man, he loved her body. Small and compact, with sculpted arms and shoulders. Her muscular torso flowed into flared hips and strong thighs. And those tits. He couldn’t get enough of those.
A whistle blew on the screen and he turned around to see what’d happened. The camera zoomed in on the ref. “Intentional grounding. Five yard penalty.”
The calls in this game had been lousy.
The quarterback threw a long pass only to get picked off at the twenty-yard line. “Fuck.” He took a long pull of his beer.
Rielle sauntered in front of the TV. Naked. “So. You wanna score with me?”
He glanced at the clock. Three minutes remained in the third quarter. If he could hold her off that long, then he could give her the kind of hard, fast fuck she liked. Tons of commercials and sportscaster bullshit played between quarters anyway so he wouldn’t miss much of the fourth quarter.
“I saw that! For just a split second you were torn between staying on the couch and watching football or taking me to bed.”
“Hey, I always want to take you to bed. Always. But Ree. Honey. It’s the last game before playoffs.”
“And your team is winning?”
“Ah, no. But there’s a chance they can come back…” He angled his head, trying to see around her. What the hell was that penalty flag about? Jesus. Was it on the damn defense? Were they seeing the signals at all?
Rielle walked off. The door to his bedroom slammed.
No misinterpreting that signal.
Why the hell did she have to pick right now for a tumble? Couldn’t she wait another seventeen minutes and twelve seconds until the game ended?
Really? A stupid football game is more important than hot and dirty sex with the woman you love? You’re an asshole.
Fuck.
Gavin scrambled off the couch and paused in front of his bedroom door, opening it cautiously in case Rielle decided to throw some shit at him—which he deserved. But the bedroom was dark and quiet and he didn’t see her. “Rielle?”