Graham

Milo and I bonded over soccer. He'd started firing questions the second Lori opened the door. He showed no sign of stopping while they gave me a tour of the two-bedroom house. The kitchen was separated from the dining area by a sliding wall made out of stained glass.

"And I thought I'd heard every soccer-related question," Lori murmured as we took the dinner ingredients from out of the shopping bags. I only needed Lori to provide me with salt, pepper, and oil.

She smacked her forehead. "I ran out of olive oil the other day. There's a convenience store one block away."

"Want me to go?"

"Mooom, please don't make Graham go. I have to talk with him about the foul in the last game." Milo was perched on a stool, clasping the edges with both hands.

"I'll go. It's close," Lori said.

"I'll get started here."

After she left, Milo hopped off his chair, leaning against the counter while I was slicing potatoes. His soccer knowledge was impressive.

"Can I have orange juice?" he asked when he paused for a breather.

"Sure," I said automatically... but then I wondered if I should have given it more thought, because Milo kept glancing over his shoulder at the entrance door while he took the orange juice out of the fridge, as if he was sneaking around.

He put the carton back right after he poured himself a glass, which he asked me to rinse after he drank it. I became even more suspicious. Somehow, I didn't think seven-year-olds tidied up after themselves unless they wanted to cover their tracks.

"Do you go to the stadium to watch every game?" he asked.

"Not all of them. We could go together sometime. If it's okay with your mom."

"Can-I-have-popcorn-while-we-watch? And-ice-cream?" he asked, all in one breath it seemed. Were those trick questions?

I didn't know what the protocol was, but common sense dictated I should ask Lori first before committing to anything. Said common sense flew out the window when Milo put his hands together as if in a prayer. How much harm could some popcorn and ice cream do?

"Pleaaase."

Then he widened his eyes. How could I not say yes to that? I had to ask Lori.

"Sure."

By the time she returned, I'd already sliced all the potatoes and the oven was the right temperature.

"You've had orange juice," she exclaimed the second she saw Milo. Turning to me, she explained, "Ground rule: no sugary drinks allowed in the evening."

"Duly noted," I said.

Milo's grin was contagious. That little marauder had me in the palm of his hand. He'd charmed me faster than even his mother had.

"Milo, go wash your hands and then set the table," Lori instructed. Milo left the room without arguing. I couldn't help smiling.

The corners of Lori's mouth twitched. "He played you."

"No, he didn't." I tried to hold my ground, but hey, she'd busted me, so why not man up and admit I'd been played by a seven-year-old? "How could you tell? He put the carton back in the fridge and I washed the glass."

"Never wipes the corners of his mouth. They were a little orange."

"By the way, I also agreed to buying him ice cream and popcorn when I take you both to a game."

"I was gone fifteen minutes. How did the shit hit the fan so quickly?"

"Babe, his eyes were this wide." I held out my fingers like goggles in front of my eyes to demonstrate.

"Ah, he brought out the big guns. You'll grow immune to it."

Didn't seem likely. Milo had me wrapped around his little finger. But I didn't want to waste time challenging her assumption. I had other things on my mind. I glanced over my shoulder to confirm that Milo wasn't on his way in. We were in the clear. I backed Lori against the counter.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm about to kiss you. Have a problem with that?"

She wiggled her ass a little. "Not at all."

I brought her sweet face close to mine and sealed my mouth over hers. This was heaven. She was my heaven. I'd seen her this morning. How could I need her so much already? At this stage, we were just supposed to get to know each other better. I was supposed to take her out, show her and Milo a good time, but not go around promising him things, bonding with him. My rational side was warning me that I was already in too deep with Lori, that I should stomp the brakes. My instincts bulldozed over my rational side. Holding her in her kitchen and kissing her was exactly what I wanted to do.

"Stop that sound," she whispered as she pulled back.

"What sound?"

"I'm not sure. Was it a growl? Was it a groan? Sexy as hell, anyway. Makes me want to climb you."

"Jesus, Lori. How d'you expect me to control myself when you say that?"

"Maybe I don't want you to control yourself." She gave me a sassy smile, but moved away as we heard Milo gallop through the house.

"What are all those herbs for?" she asked while Milo set the table. He was proficient enough that it was clear he did it quite often. I was impressed by Lori's education skills. You wouldn't have caught me dead doing a chore at his age.

"Thyme and oregano. They're great with fries."

"And what kind of cheese is this? Cheddar?"

"No. Something better. You'll see." 

"You should be a chef," she said.

"It's my hobby."

"You're a pro at it."

"I considered going to culinary school in my twenties, after college." The buns were almost roasted. Everything else was ready.

"What made you change your mind?"

"I loved the club more than cooking. I worked there straight after college. When my grandfather died, my father took over. He'd never worked before, so he made a mess of things, nearly bankrupted the club. He convinced Nana to put up the restaurant as collateral for another debt of his. She nearly lost it. That happened about three years ago. It's when I took over, before Dad could do more damage." 

"Why do I get the impression you don't get along with your dad?"

"Because I don't. I didn't get along with my grandfather either. He put Nana through a lot with his cheating. Dad didn't do much better in that department."

"How did you save the club and the restaurant?" 

I hesitated. "I had a trust fund from my grandfather. I hadn't used it before on principle, and it was enough to get out of trouble."

What was it about this woman that made opening up so effortless? I usually changed the subject when asked about this, but with Lori, I didn't want to hold back or pretend. I wanted to show her all sides of me. And if she didn't like them? Better to find out now than later.

Using my trust fund to bail out the restaurant and club had driven a deep wedge between me and Elizabeth. She didn't speak to me for five weeks after I told her.

She'd always pestered me to use the trust fund for our own benefit, even though we had more than enough money. But we'd always had wildly different opinions of what "enough" was.

"That was clever," Lori said. There was no judgment in her tone, but that could change in time. For now though, she seemed to like the man I was. It made me want to back her against that counter and kiss her until she begged for more. She winked and blew me an air kiss when Milo wasn't looking. Sassy woman. I'd show her who was in charge here as soon as dinner was over.

***

Lori

The cheese was to die for. Seriously. The fries too. During dinner, Graham and Milo dove right back into their soccer talk. Graham answered every question in detail, and they'd been debating a penalty for the past five minutes. I loved that Graham paid attention to what Milo was saying, instead of just pretending to. People thought kids didn't notice, but they did.

"We have fries left," I announced once we'd cleared the plates.

"I want more fries," Milo said.

"Give me a minute. I have a trick." Graham rose from his chair and headed to the kitchen. I couldn't spy on what he was doing through the colored glass, but I thought I heard the oven door open and close. A few minutes later, he set fries with melted cheese on the table. They were divine.

This man was a wizard. How could he make food taste so good? We reached for them at the same time and Graham interlaced our fingers for a brief, sweet second, as if he couldn't help touching me.

"Best fries ever," Milo declared. Making me happy was nice. But making Milo smile? That was the way to my heart.

Once the last of the fries were gone, Milo started firing off questions again, but he was yawning and rubbing his eyes, signs that he was tired.

"Milo, say goodnight to Graham, then go brush your teeth and shower."

"I don't want to go to sleep yet. Graham and I are talking."

Graham grinned at me. I grinned back.

"Buddy, I'm going to leave too. I have to wake up early tomorrow, just like you. Responsible men go to bed early, so they can wake up early."

"I want to be a responsible man," Milo parroted back, squaring his shoulders and standing straighter. He bid Graham goodbye before heading to the bathroom. I started on cleaning the table, and when Graham gathered some plates, I shook my head.

"No, no. You cooked. I'm cleaning."

Graham came next to me, bringing a hand to my waist and tucking me into him. I nestled against him as best as I could. I'd been craving his nearness and his body warmth the entire evening.

"I had a great time tonight, Lori." He cupped my cheek, his fingers feeling warm against my skin.

"We had a great time too."

"You've got a lovely boy."

"Thanks."

As Graham leaned forward, Milo called from the bathroom, interrupting our moment.

"I'm going to see what he needs. His bedtime routine takes about twenty minutes."

"I'll wait."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

Milo talked nonstop.

"Graham is so cool," he said while putting on his pajamas. "He knows all about penalties. And he likes to talk. Can we have burgers with him again?"

"Yeah, we will."

"Yay!" 

My heart squeezed as Milo slid under his covers. He was already starting to hero-worship Graham. Was I doing the right thing here? Risking not just my heart, but Milo's too? The two of us had achieved a precarious balance. Was I being selfish, choosing to bring someone else into our little world? 

When I closed the door, Milo was already half asleep. He went out quickly, and once he fell into slumber, he slept through the night.

I closed the door connecting the corridor between the bedrooms to the living room and found Graham still in the kitchen. I joined him, sliding the stained glass wall closed too.

"He's asleep," I announced.

"That was fast."

"He's always been like that. He likes you, by the way."

"I was hoping he would. I like him too, and in the near future, I'd like for us to tell him we're dating."

"We will," I assured him.

Graham moved toward me until he stood so close to me that our chests almost touched. This man was more potent than anyone had the right to be.

He feathered his thumb across my lower lip, then my upper one, and I felt the gentle touch straight between my thighs. The world around us seemed to blur as he pulled me into a kiss. He traced my lips with the tip of his tongue before exploring my mouth. He wrapped one hand in my hair, tugging a little. A white-hot bolt of energy ran through me. I bucked my hips in reflex and discovered Graham was hard.

"See what you're doing to me, Lori?" he asked in a low, molten voice when we pulled apart.

"You're insatiable."

"No, you just have this effect on me." He kissed my forehead. "Now, be a good girl and don't tempt me."

"Or what?" I challenged. His eyes were hooded, and judging by the wood in his pants, he was close to the edge. What would he do if I pressed too much? I'd never been one to thread too close to the danger line, but Graham had this inexplicable effect on me. He made me want to dare more. 

"I'll sweet talk my way into your bed."

"You think I'm that easy?" I pretended to be offended. Graham saw right through me.

"No, but I'm not the only one who wishes we could spend the night together."

Well, the jig was up. Pretending was one thing, but I didn't lie. Besides, I wanted to see his reaction when I admitted it.

"True. I keep daydreaming about tasting you... everywhere."

Graham exhaled sharply. He backed me into a corner of the kitchen, roaming his hands everywhere. God, I wanted him to touch me more. Why was I wearing so many clothes? I wanted those talented hands directly on my skin. As if reading my thoughts, Graham snaked one hand under my sweater, then under my bra, rubbing my nipple between his fingers. I braced my palms on those strong biceps.

“I want a taste of you, Lori. And I’ll have it.”

He pushed my shirt up then unclasped my bra. He drew his thumb around the outer edge of my peaks before giving my nipple a lash of his tongue. I drenched my panties. He smiled against my skin.

“Does this make you wet?”

I nodded.

“Say the words. I want to hear them.”

“Y-yes. It makes me wet,” I stuttered in between flicks of his tongue. He pressed two fingers against the crotch of my jeans, rubbing the fabric against my sensitive skin.

“Do you want to come, Lori?”

“Oh, God, Graham. Yes.”

He was moving his fingers fast, and even through the denim, every time he touched my clit, tremors spread through me. Then he took the hand away.

“Why did you stop?”

He brought his lips up to mine. “Because I want to touch your skin. I want my fingers inside you when you come.”

When I felt him undo the fly of my jeans and lowering the zipper, all my nerve endings felt on fire.

"I will make you come, Lori. Hard and fast."

I clenched from his dirty words and dug my fingernails into his muscle-laced arms when he touched my center. He teased my folds first, dipping one finger in between them before nudging my clit. He was kissing my neck, nipping gently with his teeth. With his other hand, he grabbed my ass, hoisting me farther up. He moved his fingers rhythmically, rubbing me until I came apart, clinging to him, burying my face in his shoulder.

“Orgasm number one,” he whispered in my ear.

“There will be more?”

In response, he slid a finger inside me, then another one, pressing the heel of his palm on my clit. I bit into his shoulder, muffling my cry. My knees nearly gave out when the second orgasm rocked through me.

"Woman, you're so sexy it's killing me."

"Mmm..." was all I could say as small tremors of aftershock spread through me. He held me for a few minutes before stepping back and washing his hands at the sink.

"Earth to Lori... everything okay?"

I nodded, still feeling a little lightheaded. "Oh yeah. Better than okay. Still on cloud nine. Might take me a while to return to earth."

"I should go." His lips opened in a gorgeous wide smile as he made his way out of the kitchen. I caught up with him in the foyer.

"Are you sure?" I moved closer, running my hand down his chest, stopping at his belt. He was still hard. Graham took my hand in his and brought it to his lips, peppering it with soft kisses.

"Yes, I'm sure. Otherwise, tomorrow morning, you'll have to explain to Milo why I'm in your bed."

"I see. Well, have a good night. Thanks for the burgers and the fries."

"So I'm forgiven for the orange juice mishap?"

"Only if you don't do it again."

"Can't make any promises. No clue how you tell him no, especially when he looks at you with those eyes. He'll have me eating out of his palm for a long time. I can tell already."