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Something So Right by Natasha Madison (11)

Chapter Eleven

 

 

 

I don’t know if it’s me but this week has been going at a snail’s pace. I just want this week to be over. It may be the fact that I will be having a date date with Cooper Saturday night. Oh, who am I kidding, it is exactly that.

This week has been rough in the orgasm department because the kids are here. My vagina may be a magnetic pull to his dick, but I’m not doing that knowing the kids can catch us. I mean, I’m almost thirty-five. I think I can wait a couple of days. Okay, fine, I have been using BOB in the shower with the door locked. Dude, it’s been a while, so don’t you go judging.

I’m sitting at my dining room table, tossing around the food on the plate, not paying attention to the conversation. I’m thinking about dessert, I’m thinking about him eating dessert, I’m thinking he should eat dessert daily.

“Babe,” he speaks up, waking me from my daydream. It’s been four days since he came over for breakfast, and he hasn’t missed supper once. He either shows up with burgers or a pie or today it was just because.

“Yeah, sorry, my mind was somewhere else.”

“I said I saw this restaurant away from town called the Lobster Trap. I was thinking we could all go tomorrow night. It looks nice. What do you say?”

I sit up straight, trying to hide my hammering heart.

“We really don’t, like, go there,” I say, hoping he just drops the subject and picks another restaurant.

“I know. I was wondering if you wanted to go there?” he says, looking at me, not understanding what my words mean.

“We don’t like going there as in we are never going there.” I try to continue when Allison speaks up in a soft voice.

“I thought you didn’t want my mommy to cry.” She looks over at him with big tears in her blue eyes.

“Sweetheart, I never want your mommy to cry,” he says, caressing her face, when Matthew speaks up.

“We don’t go there because that is where Dad takes his ‘girlfriend.’ It was where he used to take my mom. But he didn’t care to change, so now we don’t go there, as in ever. With Dad or without Dad,” he says a little harsh, so I look over at him and my baby girl and try to do damage control.

“Okay, why don’t we go anyway? I mean, it’s a big restaurant. I don’t think we shouldn’t go. It’ll be fine. It was one time, and I was just shocked to see him there, that is all.”

“You mean, you were shocked to see him making out with his girlfriend at the table.”

“Matthew,” Cooper warns, “that’s enough. I’m sorry, babe, I didn’t know or else I would have never suggested it. But you are right”—he looks over at me, grabbing my hand, and squeezing it for support—“it’s a big restaurant. I think we should go.”

“I’ve got to use the bathroom.” I hightail it to my bathroom in my room with the hopes of not freaking out. It’s easier said than done. Then I hear a soft knock at the door.

“Parker, open up.”

I don’t even fight it because I know if I do in the end I always lose with him.

He comes in, looking over at me. I’m in my master bathroom where I spend most of my downtime. When I bought the house it was my second renovation project. My first was the kitchen, because let’s face it, as a mom you spend ninety-five percent of your time in there. I had gutted the old bathroom, having replaced the old tub with a two-person claw tub that’s sitting near the bay window. There is enough space for you to look out, and I have hanging candle lanterns near the windows. It’s rustic romantic, not that I have done anything in that tub. I also have two sink vanities that face the tub in a white color. The only colorful thing is the marble countertop, which is grayish blue, giving the stark white a soft feel. Beside the tub is my walk-in shower with eight jets and a rainfall shower. I also have a bench, which got me many raised eyebrows from the construction workers, but in reality it was more for keeping the shampoo on it or having Allison sit on it while I finished showering.

When Cooper walks in, I continue to lean on my side of the vanity, which is closest to the tub. They are actually both mine, but I don’t use the other one. It sits empty.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted that way. You didn’t know. I just haven’t stepped foot near that restaurant since I found him making out with her. I mean, it wasn’t a shock. I knew they were together. What killed me is, he never did that with me. He never lost his mind and just had to devour me like that. Plus, it was the first time the kids saw him with someone other than me, so we don’t go there.” I’m staring at my feet now, not wanting to look in his eyes.

“Babe, he threw away gold. He had everything a man can possibly have, and he threw it away.”

“Obviously not everything.”

He makes his way to me, nudging my chin up to look into his baby blues. “Everything, babe.” His lips find mine with his tongue seeking entrance, and I let him enter. I don’t even notice when he lifts me to place my ass on the vanity. I just circle my legs around his waist, gripping his shirt, hoping he gets closer to me.

“Babe,” he says softly, kissing my cheek, “you, we can’t”—kissing my chin, and I’m such a hussy that I turn my head to give him access to my neck—“make him”—he kisses my neck, trailing his tongue out when he gets near my ear—“take that from”—he nips my earlobe with his teeth, making a shock run straight to my nipples—“you,” he says just when he reaches up to palm both breasts, my bra not hiding my response to him.

“We are going”—he runs his tongue down again right to my collarbone—“there tomorrow.” He pinches my nipples, my eyesight dazed with need.

“Cooper,” I whisper, dragging him closer to me with my feet, making my pussy meet his erection.

“Baby,” he hisses because now I’m playing this game, too. My hands have made their way under his shirt, my nails rubbing his abs softly till I’m pinching his nipples also. “Babe, the kids are downstairs,” he says while he rubs his erection against my pussy, sending shocks to my clit.

“We can’t do this,” I say, kissing his lips, biting his lower lip, then softly sucking it in and matching his thrust. “The kids could come upstairs.”

He hovers over me, his hands on both sides of the vanity. If I didn’t know better, it looks like he’s fucking me on the counter, but all parts are covered, sadly.

I hear him hiss in my ear all the while rubbing up and down straight to my center.

“Babe, if I move your panties to the side”—he moves up—“your pussy will be dripping for me, won’t it?” He’s moving down. “Your clit must be tight now”—moving up—“calling to me to rub it in little circles.” Moving down. “I want to take it in my mouth and suck it in”—moving up—“at the same time putting two fingers in you.” Moving down.

“Cooper, I’m going to come.”

“Babe, you want to come.” He has now thrust up and is moving side to side, giving my clit just enough pressure, and with the lace of my panties it won’t be long till I’m pushed over the edge. But if I’m going, he is coming with me.

“I want to come on your face.” I’m moving with him. “That is what I was thinking about at the table.” Rubbing side to side, his breathing is getting more ragged for him also.

“I can’t wait for you to fuck me,” I whisper in his ear. “I want you to fuck me hard, baby. Do you want to fuck me hard?” This is making him harder and bigger. “I want to come on your cock.” Oh my. “I want to squeeze your cum from your cock into my pussy. Will you give it to me?”

“All of me,” he says and thrusts hard, making me throw my head back, moaning, but it’s caught by his mouth. I come without him even touching me, still rubbing my pussy on his covered cock. I’m wondering how when he suddenly groans into my mouth, and I know he’s coming, too. We rub each other to ride out the orgasm that has rocked my world. Our mouths break apart with us panting.

“Babe, you make me feel like I’m sixteen again coming in my pants.”

I giggle at him. “I want you in me.” I’m not hiding it anymore.

“Soon, babe. We have to get back downstairs, but fuck me...that look in your eyes...you need to go and leave now, before I just pound into you.”

He steps away, trying not to look at me. I giggle, leaving the bathroom. Turning back, I try to peek at him cleaning himself. “Babe, go tell the kids we are going out tomorrow,” he growls, while I walk away giggling and try to convince the kids about how much fun tomorrow will be.

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