Later that day, I looked up from my desktop when someone knocked on my office door, disorientated for a few minutes. Pulling off my glasses and blinking a few times, I called out, “What?”

The door opened and Tammy stuck her head inside, frowning. “You don’t think that’s a little rude?”

“Do we need to have another conversation about who’s the adult and who’s the child?” I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. “Tammy, it’s been a long day. Weekend. Week. Fuck, at this point I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say it’s been a long month. What do you need or want?”

“Are you taking us to school tomorrow or do we need to catch the bus?”

“What?”

“School starts tomorrow.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” I answered the instant message from Bill, downloading the file and opening it before shifting my attention back to Tammy. “And if I wasn’t, the fact Dolly has been running around shouting the multiplication tables at the top of her lungs for the last hour would have been a hint.”

“So I need to know if we need to take the bus or if you’re going to take us to school.” She stepped all the way in, closing the door and leaning back against it. “Kitty and I are fine—we’re freshmen so we know where everything is—and Dolly is mostly fine, too, especially because she’ll just grab someone and make them take her to where she needs to go if she can’t find it. But this is Conway’s first year.”

“And I probably should have gone in on Friday and talked to his teacher or something.” There was no point in cursing. After all, it wasn’t as if I’d been laying around the house eating chocolates and complaining about how bored I was. I’d been moving and dealing with kids and failing at not getting overly involved with Abraham Hansom. Annoyed with the direction of my thoughts, I said, “I’ll take you guys tomorrow. After that, we can figure out is going to work better.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” I waited for her to leave so I could figure out what exactly my staff photographer had been thinking when he decided to use what looked like a lime green background for a spread which would be going to print at the beginning of October. When a few minutes went by and she was still standing there, I said, “Anything else, Tammy?”

“Yes.”

I waited another moment. “That was an unspoken invitation for you to tell me ‘what’, Tammy.”

“Oh, right.” She started fidgeting, something my niece wasn’t prone to doing, so I knew whatever shew as about to drop on me was going to be a whopper. “Well, there’s a game on Friday.”

“Already?” I winced at the tone of my own voice, hoping she was too distracted to have picked up on the distinctive whine. “Tell me there’s some kind of schedule I can download to my phone to keep track of everything. Or at least one I can stick to the fridge with a magnet.”

“Of course there’s a schedule.” She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Anyway, there’s a game Friday and all the cheerleaders are staying at Dominique’s house afterward.” She shuffled her feet, attempting to dig her toe in to the hardwood floor. “And I wanted to know if I could go.”

“You’ve never mentioned Dominique before.” I leaned back in my chair, tapping my nails on the scarred and battered arm. I’d bought the piece of furniture when I moved in to my apartment in Savannah and even though I’d had to replace a few parts along the way I loved it the way I imagine kids loved childhood stuffed animals. “Just Sandy and Kitty and one of them is grounded and the other is pregnant as all get out.”

“She’s in ninth grade, too. I think you went to school with her mother—Lynn?”

“Lynn Smith? Lynn has a daughter?” I did the math in my head and couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “And she thought the most memorable thing about prom was going to be the photos.”

“Anyway, the entire squad is invited and Mama wouldn’t let me go to any of the stuff last year and I really, really want to go.” She pushed off the door only to clasp her hands in mock prayer, widening her eyes to almost comic proportions. “So please can I go? Please?”

I probably should have done the whole “let me talk to the adult in charge” routine but I wanted to talk to Lynn about as much as she wanted to talk to me. Maybe less. And even if I didn’t trust Lynn or her daughter I trusted Tammy. So I sighed, more for form than for anything else, and said, “Oh, fine. But you need to be back here Saturday by noon to help with chores and stuff.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She all but leaped across the room, rounding the desk and enveloping me in a hug before I could prevent it. Springing back, she said, “I love you so much, you’re the best aunt ever!”

She rushed out of the room and I stared after her. I was still staring a few minutes later when Abraham strolled in, munching on an apple. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I swallowed the lump in my throat, turning my attention back to the photo spread. “How are you possibly hungry after all that food you ate earlier?”

“Metabolism.” He walked over, leaning a hip on the edge of the desk. Even without looking, I knew he was studying me. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to go blind looking at this backdrop and I’m going to go stupid trying to figure out the reasoning for using it.”

“You’re a horrible liar.”

“Excuse me?”

“Maybe you don’t realize it because you’re never around people long enough for them to figure out your tells but you are.” He reached out, running a single finger down the bridge of my nose. “You get a line right there when you lie.”

I swatted his hand away. “I thought I got a line there when I was frustrated.”

“You get it then, too, but when you’re lying your eyes go flat and you start speaking in hyperboles.” He wrapped his fingers around my wrist and pulled me to my feet, hooking an arm around my waist and drawing me against him. “So what’s wrong?”

“Tammy has a football game on Friday and then a sleepover after so I’m either going to have to find a babysitter or not go out and see you in action with all the boozed up parents.”

“I think we’re getting closer to the truth but I don’t think that’s all of it.” He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, reaching up and tucking a loose curl behind one ear. “Honey, you sat through lunch with my parents earlier. I promise you there’s nothing you can tell me which would shock me.”

“It’s nothing bad.” I shrugged, wondering when I’d stopped being able to be nonchalant and breezy and when little things had started mattering so much. “Tammy said she loved me.”

“Don’t tell me you doubted that.”

“I mean, I haven’t exactly been the best aunt over the years. Sure, I’ve called and Skyped and sent money and presents and whatever but I wasn’t here.” I propped my chin on his shoulder, closing my eyes and breathing him in. Either he’d changed colognes or he’d been outside playing with the kids but either way he smelled like grass and fresh air and clean sweat and I couldn’t begin to understand why that was so appealing. “And you can love someone because they’re family but not love them because of who they are. You know that.”

“Yeah, I do.” He stroked a hand down my back, pressing his face to the side of my neck. “And because I do, I know those kids love you and you love them, clear down to the bone.”

“It just hit me all of a sudden.” I forced out a laugh, wrapping my arms around his torso and squeezing tight. “Took me by surprise, is all. I really am having problems with this photo spread, though.”

“Well, I don’t have any experience designing magazines but I have some looking at them so I’ll give you the consumer opinion.” He nipped my earlobe with his teeth, chuckling when I shivered. “I won’t even ask for the $10 the people in the mall normally give you for doing those marketing surveys.”

“Something tell me you’ll come up with a different way of getting paid.”

––––––––

IT WAS CLOSE to midnight before I crawled in to bed, groaning as I stretched out on my stomach. “Tell me it’s not always going to be this difficult.”

“In theory, it won’t, but I don’t want to say for sure and wind up being a liar.” Abraham reached over and patted my naked ass, his attention still focused on his book. I’d been shocked when he pulled out a set of reading glasses and even more shocked when I realized they somehow managed to make him look even sexier than he already did. “It’s first day of school jitters. Don’t you remember being nervous before school started?”

“Only about how many people were going to point and whisper about my hand-me-down clothes and mention my parents or my sister.” I rolled to my side, pillowing my cheek on my arm. “Don’t tell me you were nervous.”

“I’m not a smart man, Jeannie.”

“I’m sorry, are you quoting Forrest Gump?” I giggled. “Really?”

“No, you dork.” He smacked my ass, snickering when I squealed. “I’m just saying, I’m not smart. Not like you. So I was always worried because I knew I had to get good grades or my father would punish me but the teachers kept sticking me in the hard classes even when I didn’t know the basics.”

“Abraham.” I sat up, shifting over and straddling him, waiting until he marked his place in his book and set it on the nightstand before cupping his face in my hands. “There’s smart and then there’s smart and you can have the brains to solve trigonometry in your sleep and not have a damn clue how to parse a sentence. Or how to run a bar.”

“If you think being nice to me is going to get you out of settling your debt from earlier, you’re very, very wrong.” He streaked his hands up my torso, cupping my breasts and flicking his thumbs over my nipples. “I thought you were exaggerating about going blind from those photos but if anything you underplayed how horrible they were.”

“I’m always serious about photo spreads.” I took his mouth with mine, pulling back only when breathing became a necessity. My voice was low and hoarse when I said, “We should lock the door.”

“The kids are asleep, remember?” He scraped his nails over my nipples, gently at first and then harder, his breaths turning harsh and ragged when I started to squirm. “I figured out how I want you to repay me.”

“Great.” The instant he’d touched me, my fatigue had disappeared, replaced with a stomach clenching hunger that would only get worse until I’d had an orgasm. Or two. Or several. I attacked his mouth again, sliding my hands over his shoulders only to lace them through his hair, holding him tight against me. Drawing back, I whispered, “How can I repay all your hard work, Mr. Hansom?”

“Fuck.” He dragged his hands down over my stomach before curving them around my hips, his fingertips barely grazing my ass. “Keep that up and I’m not going to have the patience for what I really want.”

“I think I know what you want.” Which was the reason I’d taken an extra-long—and extra thorough—shower after I’d finally put the kids to bed. “Look in the top drawer of the nightstand.”

“What I had in mind didn’t really involve toys but....” He trailed off as he apparently found what I’d put there yesterday. He dug the fingers of one hand in to my ass and whispered, “You’re amazing. Phenomenal. They should build monuments to you.”

“For some reason I don’t think that’s going to happen.” I slid off him, settling myself on my knees and elbows, resting my cheek on the pillow. “You do, however, get to fuck my ass, which—and I’m not bragging—is a better thing for you than commissioning a monument.”

“Jesus, yes.” He moved behind me and I heard the distinctive pop as he uncapped the bottle of lube. “I know you said you’ve done this before but we’re still going to go slow.”

“Considering how big your cock is, that’s probably for the best.” I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from squealing when the first drop of lube splashed over my skin. “Christ, that’s cold.”

“It won’t be in a few minutes.” He laid one hand on the small of my back, pressing until I shifted in to his preferred position. “One finger.”

I sucked in a quick breath and then exhaled, forcing myself to relax and go limp as he eased a single finger inside me. I hadn’t lied about having some experience with anal sex but it had been more than a few years and if I was being honest I’d been too drunk to remember specifics. All I could say was thank God for the Internet.

It wasn’t unpleasant and it didn’t hurt but it was... odd. That seemed to be the best word I could think to describe the feeling, especially when he started a gentle thrusting motion, working his finger in a small circle at the same time. After a few minutes, he slipped his finger out and said, “You ready for two?”

“Yeah.” I had to pause and clear my throat, my voice thick and raspy. “Yeah, I think so.”

He added more lube before pushing two fingers in, slower this time, my breath catching in my lungs for a moment before I remembered to relax. I closed my eyes, flicking my tongue over my lips and turning my face in to the pillow. There was the tiniest bit of pain, more the promise of pain than the actual sensation, but it didn’t make me want to tell him to stop. After a few minutes, even that went away and I sighed, pushing back gently. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

He didn’t answer, instead going through the same thrust and stretch motions from before. The only indication he was even marginally affected by anything was the ragged nature of his breathing and the jagged edge of his voice when he spoke. “Three?”

“Yes, please.” For a split second I was tempted to call him ‘Mr. Hansom’,  just to see what he would do, but I decided he was already teetering on the metaphorical tightrope. ‘Mr. Hansom’ would probably push him over an edge neither of us were prepared to deal with yet. My breath came out on a shaky exhale when he slipped his fingers out and I had to remind myself yet again to not tense up. Still, when he started to work three of his long fingers inside me, I stiffened, murmuring, “Abraham—.”

“Take a deep breath.” The mattress shifted under me and second later he pressed his lips to the nape of my neck. “You have no idea how fucking amazing you look like this, on your hands and knees, my fingers barely in your ass.” He dragged his teeth over my shoulder, both of us shivering from the action. “My cock is so hard right now it actually hurts. I don’t think I’ve been this hard in my entire life, not even the night you walked in to my bar.”

Gradually, in movement so slow it seemed almost glacial, he eased all three fingers in, until his palm rested flat against my ass. Kissing the side of my throat where my pulse hammered in double time, he whispered, “How do you feel?”

“Full.” I had to swallow to get enough spit before I could continue. “I never appreciated how big your hands are until now.”

“On the plus side, there won’t be too much of an adjustment between three fingers and my cock.” He eased his other hand under me, both of us sucking in quick breaths when he brushed his fingers over the wet folds of my cunt before separating them, touching a single finger to my clit. “Jesus, Jeannie.”

“If you don’t stop that, I’m going to come and that’s going to be it.” I shifted my weight to one hand, using the other to grab his wrist and yank his hand away, nearly toppling us in the process. “I’m serious, Abraham. I can’t take any more sensation right now.”

“Fuck.” He straightened, pulling his fingers free at the same time. There was a wet, sluicing sound as he slathered lube over his cock and then a brief flash of cold as he applied more to my ass before he gripped my hip with one hand. “Slow and steady?”

“Slow and steady.” And even though I was ready, even though I wanted it, I still found myself biting down on the pillow as he started working the head of his cock inside. I pushed back, my entire body shaking as I strained to relax, to open up, the pain sharper this time, brighter, although still not unbearable. When the head slipped inside, we both let out shuddering breaths and I whispered, “Christ, you’re big.”

“Not to state the obvious but you’re tight.” He eased forward another half inch, hissing out a breath. “I’m not ashamed to say I’m not going to last very long.”

“After all that buildup, you better last long enough.” I wiggled back a half inch at the same time he pushed forward, my head swimming for a moment from the combination. “You’re not even halfway in, are you?”

“No.” He let out a hoarse laugh. “Has to be the only time in my life I’ve wished my cock was smaller.”

“You and me both.” I took a deep breath. “Just... all in one go. Don’t stop.”

“Are you sure?”

“It doesn’t hurt now.” Or not really, anyway. The worst part had been the first few inches but, thankfully, the shaft was slightly narrower than the head. And once again, that little barbell was doing wonders on the innermost parts of my anatomy. “And if you’re really that close to coming, I’d rather have all of your cock inside me when you do.”

“For fuck’s sake, Jeannie.” Taking me at my word, he pushed forward, not stopping until his hips were pressed against my ass. Draping himself over me, he brushed a kiss over my sweat dampened shoulder and whispered, “You say things like that and it takes all of willpower to not fuck you until we’re both senseless.”

“Abraham.” I spread my knees wider, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from groaning at the sudden flash of pleasure caused by the change in position. “I need you to touch me.”

“How? Like this?” He rubbed the palm of his hand over my practically dripping folds, chuckling when I whimpered. “Or like this?” He pressed the pad of his thumb to my aching clit, nipping at my earlobe when I started to squirm. “Or maybe like this?”

He eased two fingers in my cunt, pressing firmly on my G-spot.

The orgasm hit me like a freight train, my entire body going taut before I simply went limp, practically melting in to the mattress. I was still struggling to remember how to breathe when he started moving, more of a roll of his hips than a thrust, his fingers still deep inside me. Between the two sensations, it took less than a minute to push me over the edge again, although this time I took Abraham with me. He collapsed on top of me, his body shuddering in time with mine, his skin hot and slick with sweat.

After a few minutes, I cleared my throat and whispered, “Abraham?”

“Yeah?” He sounded as lazy and drugged as I felt. “Jeannie?”

“I need to get up and take a shower.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Neither one of us moved.

After another five minutes or so, I managed a weak chuckle. “Seriously, Abraham. We need to get up.”

“I’m not sure my legs work.”

It took some maneuvering but I managed to jam my heel in to his shin, chuckling again when he yelped. “They work.”

“Was that really fucking necessary?” He shifted off me, both of us hissing when his cock slipped free. Pulling me to my knees and turning me to face him, he brushed my hair back from my forehead and said, “How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted.” That was one of the problems about having sex with Abraham. I always felt as if I’d run a trio of marathons, one right after the other.

The other problem was the struggle to not blurt out words brought on by endorphins—words he’d hold me to when I wasn’t entirely certain I was ready to give up that much control to anybody.

“I’ll hold you up in the shower if you do the same for me.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “No hanky-panky, I promise.”

I snorted. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”