Page 156 of Sloane

None of us guys even tried to fool ourselves that once we lived on our own, we’d be eating homemade food like we currently were.

My meals would be takeout or microwaveable, and the other two had echoed my prediction when we’d been alone. None of us, however, were about to say that to Ashley, lest she decide that cooking for us was futile. We were going to milk this gravy train as long as we could.

While she and I worked side by side in the kitchen, I took every opportunity to subtly stroke her hip or slide my fingers along her ass. Every touch was below the cabinets, out of view of the two sitting on the couch.

She didn’t smack me or twist out of my reach, so I took that as a good sign.

“Are you going to be able to help me with my pelvic tilt tonight?” I asked quietly when our back was to the living room.

“I thought it was your hip flexors that were giving you trouble?”

“It’s both. I’m going to need a lot of help.”

“Well… I do owe you.”

While my intention with making sure she came more than once had been to entice her back, the idea of her thinking she “owed” me didn’t sit well.

“Sweetness, I told you before. You don’t owe me anything.”

My cock jumped when she scored her nails over my shorts covering my junk.

“Are you sure? Because if I don’t owe you, we probably should adhere to our original agreement.”

As far as I was concerned, our original agreement was I loved her and she loved me, but that got blown to hell, along with my leg and the left side of my body. So, I was willing to settle for the “one night only” agreement she was talking about, especially since it had been far from one night.

“You know, now that you mention it, you do owe me.”

“Then I guess I’ll be down later to help with your stretches.”

****

Ashley

I needed to keep it about sex with Sloane, otherwise I was going to fall in love with him all over again. And I didn’t trust him not to break my heart once more.

Besides, sneaking downstairs every night was sexy and exciting, and made me feel a little naughty.

But each night, Millie’s demands to be fed coming through the baby monitor would bring me back to the reality that I was a responsible mom and not really a sex kitten.

Tuesday night, Sloane kissed my shoulder and once again asked, “Why don’t you bring her down here and let me help you?”

“Because it’s easier to put her back in her crib once she falls asleep. I don’t want you sleeping on the floor again.”

He shrugged. “I can sleep on the couch.”

“So, what’s the point?”

With a sigh, he grumbled, “I guess you’re right. I just wish I could help you so you could get some real rest.”

“Maybe we can address it once she finally starts taking a bottle.”

“I’d also like to fall asleep with you in my arms again.”

I just smiled in the darkness and reminded him—and myself, “That’s not part of our agreement.”

As I tiptoed up the stairs Tuesday night, I had an epiphany. I’d order a bassinet to put in his room.

Then we’d see if he really wanted to help with Millie like he said.

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