Page 69 of Under One Roof

“I dreamed about this,” he grits out, muscles tense. “I imagined your puffy lips around my cock, exactly like this, and fuck, baby, it feels so goddamn good.”

I preen under his praise, goose bumps racing along my skin in the humid air as desire pools in my core. Keeping one hand around him, I slip the other between my legs, dragging my fingertips over my aching clit, and Griffin tosses his head back to the ceiling, “Fuck yes. Touch yourself. Come with me.”

I didn’t realize how wet I was, how turned on, and it doesn’t take me long to get there, tipping over the edge with fast circles of my fingers. I groan around his cock, bringing his eyes back to mine. “You gonna let me come in your mouth?” When I nod my answer, he clenches his jaw. “Atta-fucking-girl.”

He orgasms, hot spurts coating the back of my throat and tongue, and I have to close my eyes, reminding myself to breathe as I gag again, but when he finishes and I open my eyes to him, swallowing his orgasm, he wastes no time hauling me up off the floor. Brushing his thumbs over my cheeks to wipe away the wetness, he laughs, genuinely. “Jesus, Andi, you need to come with a warning label. Fucking break my heart and my dick.”

I laugh too, a little dazed as he unclasps my bra and pushes down my underwear before scooping me up to take me into the shower. While his shower is bigger than my little stand-in downstairs, it’s not as big as the one in my fantasies. But Griffin is even better.

We take turns soaping each other up, and he’s careful not to get my hair wet when I tell him it’s not my hair-wash day, which I then have to explain. His eyes crinkle with amusement as he shakes his head in exasperation.

“You’ll have to get used to it,” I say, meaning he’ll have a teenage girl living in the house soon, but he doesn’t take it that way.

Instead, he wraps his arms around my waist, lifting my feet up off the tub’s floor to kiss his understanding into my mouth. “I’m ready when you are.”

Like he’s only waiting for me to say the words.

I love you.

Chapter23

Griffin

When the timer on my watch goes off, I carefully lift Andi’s feet off my lap and stroke my fingertips down her cheek. She fell asleep in the middle of reading a book she picked up from Chapter and Verse, some collection of Middle Eastern poetry that she’s slowly making her way through, highlighting certain lines and dog-earring other pages. In the last two days, we’d taken to reading together in the afternoons, and I hope we’ll continue to.

Since I came home from work Wednesday, and she sucked my soul out of my dick, I’ve been attached to the girl like a barnacle. Probably because she owns me now. Got my heart in her back pocket.

She’s joked about how I’ve been following her around. Even the kids noticed, making comments this morning about me needing to stop pretending I’m not creeping back up to my bed in the morning, when I assume they’re asleep and can’t hear me.

I suppose my stealth skills aren’t what they used to be if I can wake my tween children at six in the morning. Then again, maybe it’s a subconscious thing. Maybe I’d like my kids to figure it out, notice I’ve been sleeping in Andi’s bed and be okay with it.

Because what I really want is for Andi to sleep in my bed. To move all her things upstairs. Have her hair ties on my nightstand and her sweet-smelling shampoos and soap in my shower. Her cowboy boots next to my work boots. Her cute little slip-on sneakers next to my HOKAs. Like I told her, I’m ready.

Her eyes flutter open, finding mine after a few seconds, and she leans into my touch. “I fell asleep.”

“You did.” I smile, another crack in my chest. It’s been happening more and more. Every smile I let free tears down another brick from my wall. Pretty soon, there won’t be any protections left, and all Andi will have to do is walk right in. Take the castle. Plant a flag on me.

“It’s time to go pick up the kids,” I tell her, and she nudges Cat off her lap then sets her book aside with a yawn. She’s so cute like this, hair flopped over in something that’s half ponytail, half bun, her brown eyes all sleepy, lips begging to be kissed. I give myself what I desire and plant my mouth on hers. “I’ll get your shoes.”

She yawns again and slowly stands, stretching her arms above her head, as I grab our shoes from the back door, stepping into my sneakers without untying the laces before carrying hers over. I kneel down to hold them out for her, putting them on one at a time. She balances with her hands on my shoulders. “You really are my Prince Charming, huh?”

I straighten with a tap to the side of her thigh. “Only if you’re my Cinderella.”

She laces her fingers with mine, leaning into me as we head toward the back door, exiting out of the garage. “I guess the broke-down car does count as the pumpkin, but I’m missing a fairy godmother.”

“You could have two in Marianne and Clara.”

She tosses her head back when she laughs. “You’re right. They’re absolutely my fairy godmothers.”

We stroll down the sidewalk to the bus stop at the end of the development, the warm May sun shining on us while Andi goes on about an idea she has for a song, and my life has never felt more right than this moment. These last few weeks, I feel like I finally have a family. One that my kids deserve. One that I deserve.

I have a woman who cares about me and loves my children.

I have a house that is a home, with laughter and movie nights and decorative bullshit that doesn’t make any sense to me except that Andi loves it, and I love anything she loves.

In hindsight, I know I never loved Beth the way a husband should love his wife. I cared for her, sure, but it was more out of obligation than genuine affection. She was carrying my children, and I wanted to do the right thing. But with Andi, it’s different. I love her in a way that consumes me, that makes me want to be a better man, a better father. I love her in a way that makes me dream of a future I never thought I’d have.

When I imagine the years ahead, I picture Andi by my side. I see her cheering on the kids at their graduations, her eyes shiny with pride. I see us becoming empty nesters, filling our days with spontaneous adventures and quiet moments together. I see myself growing older, my hair turning more and more gray, and Andi stroking it, a playful smile on her lips as she tells me, “I like mature men.”

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