Page 212 of Lost in Love

Little bastard has the worst timing and I know any minute he’s going to wake the baby in the next room.

“Damn it,” she mutters, shaking her head and turning into my chest.

Her legs fall from around my waist when Rowdy’s barking reaches an all-time high, and he begins his obsessive jumping as though he’s going to come through the door at any minute or destroy the bathroom. Both of which he’s done before. Many times. It’s a good thing I can fix drywall and doors.

Have I mentioned I don’t like dogs? All I can say is at least it’s not a cat.

Madison sighs, her arms flopping against the mattress. “Ridley, he’s going to destroy the bathroom again. We should stop.”

I pin her hands above her head against the headboard. “Don’t you dare stop, Madison.” I groan against her lips, my breath catching in my throat as I continue to move in and out of her. “Weneedthis.”

I’m mostly referring to myself here, but judging by the wetness coating my dick, she feels the same way.

“I know we do….” She sighs. “But he’s destroying the bathroom.”

I’m not having this end on account of that fucking dog, so I rise up on my hands to change the angle. “I don’t care. I’ll fix it.”

I nearly come when we switch positions because when you’ve been denied sex for so long, even the slightest movement can make you come because it’s literally been so fucking long since you’ve had any stimulation down there.

All that aside, I can hear Callan outside the door with the baby. Thank goodness I locked the bedroom door.

“The kids are up.”

“I don’t care,” I mumble, shaking my head. And I don’t.

As in most situations, when I have something in my head, I need to finish. A mission like this, there’s no stopping me. You probably know this by now.

It’s then that damn dog starts in with his howling.

“Come on, baby. Stay in the moment,” I grunt, my hips moving at a steady pace, focused on getting both of us off in the next five minutes.

Just as she’s beginning to relax and finally be in the moment, the baby begins crying.

“Mommy!” Callan yells, knocking on the door. “Evie wants you, and Noah is drinking out of the toilet again.”

There’s no way Evie got out of her crib on her own, so he must have snuck into her room and grabbed her. While it’s cute when he does that, it’s annoying right now because I still haven’t finished.

And what the fuck, Noah? Really, dude?

Despite all this, I don’t stop and instead speed up my movements as a growl emerges from deep in my throat. I’m determined to finish.

At that moment, the fucking dog bursts through the wooden door of the bathroom and into our room and starts to hump the bedpost.

Welcome to the life of a couple with three kids and a goddamn dog.

“What’s going on in there?” Callan asks when he hears the door breaking. “Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine. Just take the baby downstairs,” I yell back, my mouth only parting from Madison for a moment before I go back to work, kissing her.

Only she’s just lying there laughing. Look at her. She’s fucking laughing like it’s funny. It is, a dog humping the bed, me trying to hump her, two of our kids at the door and one drinking from the toilet, but still. Laughing kinda hurts my ego if we’re being honest.

It’s quiet for about a half a second when Callan, still outside our door, asks, “What’s that noise?”

I stop for about a half a second and then continue despite the squeaking bed springs. “Nothing. Go downstairs.”

“Ridley, maybe we should—”

“Hold on, I’msoclose.” My arms give way, and I collapse against her chest, my hands moving to her ass driving her into my determined thrust.

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