Page 40 of Make Me

“What are you doing, Laces?” he asks.

“I think you know,” I tease.

“Is that for you or for me?”

“For us both.” He drops my hands, and I open his pants. His cock is already hard when I pull it out and take it into my mouth.

Right there, on my deck in the bright light of day, I savor the taste and smell of my man while he smokes his joint.

He blows the smoke out, and the wind pushes it to my face, but nothing stops me from enjoying the feel and taste of him in my mouth. It doesn’t take long for him to convulse and release down my throat. I don’t stop until he gives me every last drop. I swallow it all before I button his jeans again.

He reaches for me and pulls me up. Before I realize what he’s doing, he has me in his arms and is carrying me inside.

“I’m going to make you feel really good, Laci,” he promises, but unfortunately it wasn’t meant to be. As soon as he walked me to my bedroom, Ivy’s door opens, and she comes running out.

“Mama! Daddy!” Her short little legs run across the room, and she wraps her arms around one of Cooper’s legs. Sam barks in the background, and Midnight walks into our bedroom and jumps on the bed. “Hungry,” Ivy says.

“You feel better, baby?” I ask. Cooper puts me down, and I place a hand on her forehead. She nods.

“Let me get my girls breakfast.”

Epilogue

Cooper

“Daddy!”seven-year-old Ivy says. She comes running into the kitchen right as I flip over the most perfect pancake.

“Yeah, Ivy?”

“Marigold pulled all the teddy bears from my bed and threw them on the floor. And she cut up some of my leggings again.” Two-and-a-half-year-old Marigold comes running behind her sister, her chubby little legs going as fast as possible. She’s immune to her sister’s irritation as she hugs my legs and smiles up at me.

My little girl is the perfect combination of me and her mother. From her dark eyes and hair, right down to my crooked smile. I put my spatula aside and pick up my toddler. She giggles when I kiss her cheeks and tickle her tummy.

“You know you’re not supposed to cut up clothes,” I chastise. She sticks out her bottom lip and bats her long eyelashes at me.

“Sowwy, Ivy,” she says. Ivy smiles, comes over, and takes Marigold from me.

“It’s okay, Goldie. We’ll play with the dolls when I get home from dance, okay?” Goldie, as we affectionately call her, nods at her sister right before she hugs her.

“Why don’t you go put the teddy bears back on Ivy’s bed? And when you’re done, come and have breakfast.” I rub her brown curls, and she runs out of the room, screaming about pancakes along the way.

“Come here, my little sugar plum.” I open my arms, and Ivy walks right in. I hug her tight before I bend down and kiss the top of her head. “Let’s get you fed. I’ll ask Grandma to take you to buy new leggings after dance.”

“Thanks, Daddy.” I kiss her again before putting a plate of bacon, eggs, and pancakes in front of her.

“I’m so proud of you,” I tell her. She blushes. “I’m coming to every show.”

“Can you not cry like you did at dress rehearsal last night?” she asks.

“No promises.” Ivy’s been going to Oak Bend Dance Academy since she turned three, and we’ve learned that our daughter is not only a talented dancer, but she’s also a gifted singer and musician. This year, her dance group is doing The Nutcracker, and Ivy is playing the role of the Sugar Plum Fairy.

Goldie comes back, and while I get her breakfast, the doorbell rings.

“Gramma,” Goldie says. As soon as she sees my mother, she opens her arms, and my mom picks her up.

“There’s my star,” my mother says. “All the ladies at church are green with envy because I have the most beautiful and talented grandchildren.” She hugs Ivy. “Go get your stuff, honey. We want to make sure you get there in plenty of time to warm up.” Ivy runs to her room and returns a few minutes later. While my girls eat, my mother looks on lovingly at them, then back at me.

“How’s Laci feeling?” she whispers. “I know she must be going stir crazy.”

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