Page 32 of Milk & Cookie

My knees get weak and threaten to buckle. “So would I.”

He lets my nipple slip from his mouth, and I already miss the sensation. “How will you do that while I’m gone?” he asks. “Do you have a pump?”

I nod.

“Good. Touch yourself when you use it and think of me.”

Curious what he’d have me do, I grip my breasts, and then my ass. He tracks my path with his gaze, and it lingers when I give my buttocks another jiggle. He wets his lips, and one side of his mouth curls in apparent appreciation. He likes this? What else does he enjoy? I’ve never thought to please a man beyond offering parts of my body for his use, but this is different. I like it.

“Touch myself how?” I ask. “There are so many ways.”

“Any way that feels good, Angel.” He takes my hand and guides it to the slickness between my legs. He isolates my clit in the slipperiness, presses my fingers against it, and slides them in circles until the hair on my neck prickles and my breath catches in my throat. He takes away his hand, leaving mine to continue alone, while he licks his fingers.

I bring my fingers to my mouth and taste too. Taste him. His flavor overpowers mine, and something about that feels dangerously right.

His eyes are practically black with the size of his pupils, and he looks even hungrier for me than he did before. He runs a finger lightly down my centerline from neck to clit. “So we’re doing this?”

“Doing what?” I stroke my pussy again and marvel at how soaked and swollen it is. I feel like a new woman. One borne of pleasure.

Vince is nature’s surprising gift of beautiful compatibility. It’s as if we’ve done the impossible. Like we could do anything now.

“Making babies and a life together.”

The moment he says it, I imagine us reading stories under the fruit trees in the summer to come, with a whole swarm of happy children around us. I swallow hard.

It seems wonderful, but that’s not what I promised my mother.

“I’d like that,” I say, because it’s true. “Imagining a family with you is easy, but you have to know the reality isn’t so simple.”

“I’m not scared of working hard for what I want, Fred. You’re worth it.” He stares straight at me, and my face warms from the determination in his tone.

I rest my hand against his chest and feel his heart pounding. Mine is doing the same.

“I have zero experience with this kind of relationship,” I warn him. “And thanks to my parents, I only know what can go wrong. I will guard my children from that fear and pain at all costs. They are my priority, Vince. Not me, and not you. I’ll always do what’s best for my girls.”

He presses his lips together and nods. “Then I’ll be what’s best for your girls.” He runs his hands up and down his thighs. “My dad passed when I was a boy, but my stepdad loved me like his own. I couldn’t have asked for a better role model, and I hope to make you all proud by passing on the kindness he showed me. It’ll be easier for me, because your kids are way more adorable than I ever was.” He gives me a shy smile, and his sincere eyes become even more earnest. “We’ll find a way this can work, Fred. This — we — feels more right to me than anything I’ve ever had.”

“I feel the same.” I stroke his beardy face. “But you’re going to need to convince more than me.”

He nods again. “I will. May I please have your number? It feels wrong that I don’t have it already. I’m going to want to talk to you while I’m gone.”

My insides get a little giddy, and I climb off the bed. I bend down to find my phone in my coat pocket. “What kind of things will we talk about?” I check the time on the screen. Shit. I should be almost home by now. I quickly send Mom a message, to say I’m running late, but I’m on my way.

“We’ll talk about everything. Things we love. Your family. My family. How we grew up. How much I like seeing your bred cunt when you’re bent over like that.”

I straighten and turn around, my face warm. “You say naughty things.”

He closes one eye but keeps the other trained on me. “I do. Is that okay?”

I let him stew a moment before I smile. “I like it. But you’re going to have to watch your language around the kids.”

“Of course.” His eyes grow round. “I wouldn’t say… That’d be so inappropriate, Fred. I would never.”

He looks so mortified, I chuckle. “I believe you.” I tickle his chin. “You’re cute when you switch from dirty-talking Daddy to responsible daddy. I have to go. My workout was meant to end ten minutes ago, and Mom needs to get to the bakery, for her shift.”

“Can I drive you home?”

I shake my head. “I’ve got my bike, and I’m trying to get my body in fit condition for pregnancy and birth. It takes stamina, you know, and my doula agrees that losing a few pounds would help my journey. I tend to overindulge in creamy desserts,” I admit the last part sheepishly. “Mom jokes we may need a second cow, to sustain my custard addiction.”

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