Sighing, I tossed my phone onto the coffee table and flung myself back into the couch, staring at the same ceiling I’d been staring at all fucking day since receiving her text earlier on in the afternoon. Did I understand she had shit to do? Absolutely. Didn’t mean it sucked any less, especially when I’d been on a perpetual high since leaving her office Wednesday afternoon.

But I guess everything happens for a reason because about an hour after hearing from Vida, Calla called to ask if Mila could spend the night. No, you’re not seeing things and you’re not the only who’s surprised either, trust me. I had to ask her a good three times to confirm. After countless months of shooting me down on the topic, she was finally going to let Mila sleepover. I had it in my right mind to ask why the sudden change of heart, but honestly, I didn’t want to risk putting her in one of her psychotic moods where she might call it off. Though, since taking Betty’s advice, Calla had been a lot easier to deal with, so maybe those mood swings were far behind us now.

“Daddy, I’m done!” Mila called out suddenly from the bathroom.

Scrubbing a hand down my face, I rose onto my feet and padded through the apartment, stopping beneath the threshold.

“Scrubbed good, baby girl?” I asked her, crossing my arms.

“Yep. I’m super sparkly clean.” She smiled exaggeratedly.

“Well, c’mon, lets dry you up then. Your mommy packed you different jammies. Which ones do you wanna wear?”

“Hmmm,” she mused with a thoughtful expression while I patted her dry. “Did she put the PAW Patrol ones in there?”

“I believe so—those the ones you want?”

“This pup’s gotta flyyy,” she exclaimed, quoting one of the characters with a squeaky little bark in tow, her head bobbing briskly in agreement.

I couldn’t help but smile. This little girl had the power to light up my whole world. Beaming in amusement, I carried Mila to her room and pulled out the pajamas she’d requested from her—yep, you guessed it—PAW Patrol back pack. She dressed much quicker than I expected, then sunk down the floor, crossing her legs beneath her so I could untangle her hair. It’d gotten so long, the dirty-blondish tips sitting right at her waistline. Took me double the time the comb it all out.

“Can you read me a bedtime story, Daddy? Pleaseee?” she asked hopefully as I tucked her into bed.

“Of course, baby. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because Mommy never does, even when I ask her nicely.”

My lips thinned drastically. It literally took everything in me not to show my daughter how angry that little sliver of information made me.

“Well, I’ll read you however many you want, okay,” I replied and she flashed me this cheesy grin that looked so much like my own before running to the bookshelf in the corner.

We didn’t get past one story though. Half way through “Love You Forever,” Mila laid passed out beside me, her lips quirked in this adorable pout, arms curled around her stuffed unicorn. Smoothing the hair off her face, I kissed her warm little cheek and tucked the covers around her, rising off the bed as quietly as possible.

A content sigh left me as I closed the door and wandered down the hallway to the kitchen, pulling a cold Stella from the fridge. As busy as my life could be, especially on the weekends I worked, I could get used to this. I hoped like hell Calla would allow Mila to spend the night more often and wondered how a conversation might go if I decided to bring it up. To ask or not to ask…that is the question.

Mulling it over it my head, I took a few welcome sips of my beer and plopped onto the couch, resting my feet on the coffee table as I flipped on the TV and scanned the guide for something to watch. Impractical Jokers seemed like a good way to go, until two soft knocks rapped on my door.

Who the hell? Flying from my seat in a rush, I shuffled to the front door and squinted through the peephole to the other side. My eyes almost bugged out completely. To say I was surprised at what, or should I say whom, stood in the brightly lit corridor wasn't even putting it lightly.

"Hey," Vida said softly, green eyes peeking up at me beneath wet lashes when I flung open the door.

She was drenched, from head to toe, her clothes clinging to the curves of her body. I had to choke back a laugh ‘cause she just looked so fucking...cute. "Do you enjoy taking walks in the rain often?" I joked, leaning toward her through the jamb.

“Are you kidding me? I hate the rain. Turns this,” she pointed to her hair, “into a mane."

"Like that would make you any less beautiful."

Vida rolled her eyes. “Can you not do that?”

“Do what?”

“That sweet talking shit.”

“I'm not sweet talking you.” I smirked.

“Yes, you were.”

“No, I wasn't.”

“You were,” she snapped, her growing frustration apparent and utterly captivating.

Leaning all the more closer, I cocked my head to one side and grinned. “I wasn't.”

“Jagger!” She whined, shoving my shoulder. “Are you gonna let me in or not?”

It was right about then I really noticed she was soaking wet, at my doorstep, droplets of water running down her neck, her chest, everywhere...

I may have gulped as a result, running a hand through my hair to avoid yanking her into my apartment and thrusting her into the wall.

“I’ll let you in…if you tell me why you’re here.”

Vida shrugged noncommittally, offering me a lopsided grin. “I made it home after those dreadful meetings, poured myself a glass of wine, and before I knew it, I was getting back in the car to come see you despite the rain.”

“Yeah?” I asked, half-surprised, half-elated.

“Yeah.”

At her reply, I stepped aside to let her in, only to catch her at the waist and clasp her chin, brushing my lips softly against hers. “I like that answer.”

“You should, it’s the truth.”

“Which is exactly why I like it.” —kiss— “Let’s get you dry, shall we?”

“I thought you liked me wet though,” she whispered, in this seemingly innocent manner.

Was she trying to kill me?

Pressing her into the wall, I shut the door with my foot and pulled her blouse over her head, dropping the sodden garment on the floor beside out feet. She just stood there in this white lace bra, peeking up at me angelically. If I didn’t know any better I’d actually think she was an angel of sorts.

But we both know she was far from it.

Dipping my head low, I lashed my tongue out between her tits and lapped up the droplets clinging to her chest, the ones dripping down her neck too…

“I do like you wet, soaking wet if I’m being honest, but I figured you’d want some warm clothes while you ride out the storm.”

“I’m surprised you’re offering me any clothes at all,” she cooed, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“Touché, but the one and only reason why is because Mila’s here.”

Vida stilled against me. “Oh my God. I didn’t know, I’m sorry. Do you want me to go?”

“Hell no I don’t. We’ll just have to be quiet since she’s asleep. Think you can behave?”

A muted nod was my response but if the sly little smirk she gleamed at me as I led her through the apartment said anything at all, it’s that she didn’t believe she could behave either. And maybe I didn’t really want her to anyway. I’d been craving her for weeks, getting little tastes here and there, and now here she was, in my home, with no Betty or fifteen minute rule in sight.

“That tee will work just fine,” she said as I rifled through my dresser for a pair of sweat pants that might fit her.

Turning my head toward her, I arched a curious brow at just how brazen her admission sounded. “So much for behaving, huh?”

“I’m just saying.” She hooked a shoulder. “I’ll have to roll your pants a million times for them to fit, but I guarantee that shirt is long enough to cover the goods.”

“What if I don’t want them covered?” I asked and immediately she puckered her lips in a chastising fashion.

“Don’t start…”

“Baby, you started it long ago.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault I got soaked on my way up here.”

“I’m not talking about tonight, I mean from the first night I saw you,” I countered, stalking to where she stood in the blink of an eye, my arms holding her captive against the wall. “You have no idea how badly you got me sprung, do you?”

Vida gulped, her body trembling in my grasp as she shook her head. It never ceased to amaze me how quickly I could spike her heart rate.

“Are you sure it’s not just ‘oops, I fucked my client and happen to like her pussy’ syndrome?”

“When it comes to you? No. I’ll admit I’ve bagged plenty of chicks from that club, but I’ve never liked any of them enough to want only their pussy. I hadn’t even been inside you yet and I was already losing my fucking marbles over you.”

I can’t believe I just admitted that…

“Can I be honest?” Her question came softly.

“Always.”

“I’ve never felt this before, Jagger, with anyone—not even my ex-husband. It’s scary as hell, crazy-fast too, and my brain keeps telling me this is nothing more than a disaster waiting to happen. But I’m so addicted to it, I can’t seem to find one good reason to let this fizzle out.”

Her concession left me speechless. Reeling. I didn’t know how to respond. But after taking one good look at her, I was quick to throw out my demand, fueled by renewed purpose and a deep sense of propriety.

“Take your clothes off, Vida…”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it,” I murmured, the slight bite in my tone setting everything in motion.

Unzipping her charcoal gray pencil skirt from behind, I watched it pool at her feet. Then her thong. And then her bra. Any other woman would’ve stood there awkwardly, but not Vida. Unashamed in her skin, she gave me a once-over that screamed you’re over-dressed, so I yielded to her demand, stripping free of my clothes too.

I’d never felt more exposed and yet somehow, so powerful too. On top of the fucking world. Scooping her up in my arms, I shut the door to my room, and discarded her on my bed, a bed no woman had ever been in because I hadn’t allowed it. Not even Calla had been in this bed. Feeling the mattress dip from our weight as I loomed over her was almost unreal, an out of body experience I was watching from somewhere else in the room.

“What are you doing,” Vida whispered as I placed soft, wet kisses anywhere within reach.

“Showing you why letting this fizzle out shouldn’t be an option,” I growled, sinking into her heat raw and so fucking effortlessly, I almost busted my load on the spot.

She arched off the bed beneath me, lacing her fingers though mine as I raised her hands above our heads, driving into her unhurriedly with deep precise strokes that filled her to capacity. Those little mewls and moans going off in my ear made it damn near impossible to last as long as I wanted to. She just sounded so fucking sexy, panting my name, begging for more, her pussy squeezing me like a vise.

Taking one of her pretty pink nipples between my teeth, I lashed my tongue across it, groaning at the feel of her in my mouth. Vida’s tits were legitimately the perfect pillows, not too big but big enough for me to lay my head on them and pass out. They were fun to play with too—so squishy and soft and ugh...fucking perfection. Just like the rest of her.

“Still thinking about letting this go?” I asked as her legs locked around my waist.

“No.”

“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“No,” she breathed out again.

“Good, now come for me, baby,” I demanded, easing off her to grip her thighs and plow into her harder than before.

Faster.

Deeper.

Each stroke amplified the intensity of her moans, especially when I swiped my thumb along her clit. Eyes hitting the back of her head, she brought a hand to her mouth and bit down on two fingers, her other hand clawing at the sheet in attempt to quell herself. Despite the fact Mila could wake up, I kept on, racing us both to the finish line because we were right fucking there. And as soon as her cunt was suffocating my dick, I threw my head back in ecstasy, spurting my release deep inside her with only one thing on my mind.

How I could do this forever.

With Vida and only Vida.