Page 57 of Everywhere You Look

“We’re married, Luke. What happens now is that we stay married. We live our lives exactly the same way as we have been, loving each other and spending our time together. We get custody of our kids, and we officially become the family that we’ve been all along. Everything changes for the better.And tonight,” he grinds his hips in a long, slow stroke over my cock that has me seeing stars. “You get down between my legs, wrap these pretty pink lips around my cock and suck me off like the good little husband you are, yeah?”

And who am I to say no to that? We switch positions so that Dean is on his back and I’m settled between his thighs. As soon as he kicks off his pajama bottoms, I swallow him down, taking his cock to the back of my throat and sucking. His hands fly to my hair, fisting the strands while he grunts and bucks his hips, fucking my mouth and making me messy. I graze my teeth along his shaft and he hisses, loosening his grip on my hair and allowing me to pull back and get air into my lungs.

But I don’t stay away for long. I flick my tongue against his tip, lapping up the salty precum beading from his slit and then alternate between shallow sucks and long, hard pulls with my mouth. I fist his cock, stroking and twisting the base while my other hand dips down to his balls, teasing and rolling his sac in my palm. Dean groans, a low, throaty noise that has my own dick thumping. I need to arrange a sleepover for the kids sometime soon so that I can enjoy all of my husband’s sounds of pleasure, unabated.

I dip my finger behind his balls, teasing andtapping at his rim. I haven’t fucked him here yet—I definitely prefer to bottom—but the sound of his moans and the “coming” from behind his gritted teeth when I slip my finger in to the first knuckle is enough to have me grinding into the mattress, wishing it was my dick inside of him.

Dean floods my mouth with cum as he fucks my mouth from below, his dick hitting the deepest parts of my mouth while his balls slap my chin.

“Do not swallow,” he commands as he pulls me up by my hair. I fumble my way up until I’m straddling his chest, my head confused and my cock leaking, threatening to burst out of my briefs while Dean’s cum dribbles from the corner of my mouth. He yanks at the waistband of my underwear and my dick bobs free.

“Spit on it,” he says, and my eyes roll back in my head as realization dawns over me. I open my mouth, allowing the mixture of my saliva and Dean’s cum to spill from my lips and on to my weeping cock. He fists me, pulling in long, hard strokes that have me on the verge of orgasm before my mouth is even empty.

“Such a pretty fucking husband. So messy and needy for me. Come for me, corazón. Come all over me, make me yours.”

My orgasm slams into me like a truck, knocking me sideways and stealing the breath from my lungs. Colors burst behind my eyes as pleasure spreads from my center out, warming me and coating me in bliss. All the while, Dean coaxes me through it, singing my praises and being my anchor while I float away on a cloud.

Later, after we’ve showered and cuddled back up under our pile of blankets, Dean is at my back with his leg trapping me in, like he thinks I’m going to run away from him any moment.

“Does it ever piss you off that we could have been doing this the whole damn time?” He grumbles into the crook of my neck.

“Do what? Fuck? Be together?”

He murmurs an affirmation against my skin.

“Like since we got married?”

“Longer than that. Forever, really. If I hadn’t been such a chickenshit and told you how I felt back when we were younger?—”

“Nah,” I cut him off with a shake of my head. I can sense Dean’s impending spiral, his rambling a symptom of feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders, and it’s my job to stop him from losing the plot. “I think we were meant to happen exactly like this. If we were together when I was injured or right after Gigi died, I would have pushed you away. I wasso broken, and I had a lot of growing up to do to become worthy of you.”

Dean squeezes my middle and sighs, his hot breath causing goosebumps to erupt across my chilled skin.

“I think I had some growing up to do, too. I didn’t realize how lonely I was until I moved here. You and the girls make me feel whole in a way I didn’t know was possible…” he trails off, and I find his hand, giving it three firm squeezes. I know what he’s thinking. It’s the same worry that’s been plaguing me for months, making me restless and sick with anxiety. But it’s my turn to be the strong one for my husband.

“We’re going to win, Dean. The judge is going to grant us custody of our kids and my parents will be forced back to Idaho and we’ll get to continue our lives as a family.”

“How can you be so sure?” he whispers. I close my eyes, biting back the tears that threaten to spill, because I’m not sure. I’m fucking terrified. But I think of my sister, and the strength she had to find in herself when she was impossibly young to get not just herself, but me out of a terrible home life. All the hours she worked so that she could afford to keep me in football. The years of her life that she sacrificed to give me the teenage life she didn’t get. The daughters she loved so dearly and trusted me to care for. If I canchannel even an ounce of Gigi’s strength, I know that I’ll be able to do the one thing she ever asked of me and make sure her daughters are loved and safe.

“Because I have to be sure, baby. There is no other option.”

Dean is silent for long moments, his breath coming in a slow, even pattern. I think he must have fallen asleep, and I envy him for that. But then he places a soft kiss on my neck before nuzzling there.

“I love you, corazón,” he says, slow and sweet.

“I love you too, Dean, more than I could possibly tell you.”

24

IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT

Luke

There have been less than fifty thunderstorms in San Francisco in the last twenty years. Something about the relatively stable air temperature brought on by the Pacific Ocean keeps them away, since thunderstorms are caused by warm air rising and smacking into falling cold air.

I don’t know. I’m not a meteorologist, but I did find myself frantically researching storms this morning while Dean fed the girls pancakes and got them ready to spend the day with friends. When I woke up to clapping thunder in the middle of a dark and stormy night that turned into a dark and stormy day, I thought a scientific explanation might help merationalize the rare storm occurring on the day I have to meet my parents in court.

The science didn’t help, mostly because I don’t understand it. So instead, I searched for omens, because if Gigi was here she’d talk my ear off about the spiritual connections all around us to try to calm my racing thoughts. And today of all days, I miss my fucking sister.

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