Chaser (Dive Bar #3)(77)

“Mm.”

“Bet she gives me like a box of broccoli for Christmas. Maybe a couple of potatoes thrown in for fun.”

Jean snickered. “I think I like your mother a lot.”

“Great.” I took a deep breath. “We casual or not, sweetheart? What’s your answer?”

“When other women flirt with you in the bar, I get violent urges,” she said, choosing her words with care. “And if I don’t see you for a day or two, I miss you. Badly. It’s about more than just how good the sex is with you or how you help me with Ada and everything else. I miss talking to you, being with you.”

“Same goes for me.”

“But, Eric, I don’t have an answer about Florida,” she said. “I wish I did. There’s positives and negatives to living in both places, you know? Mom and Dad shouldn’t have talked to you about it. That was wrong. But they were so great with Ada while they were here. She really enjoyed being with them too, and I do have some friends back there.”

“All right.”

Her sigh seemed bone deep and weary. “On the other hand, I love this apartment and you and Nell and all of your friends have been so great to us. But I’m worried that Mom and Dad were right about how raising a child is always difficult, just in different ways as they get older.”

I kept my mouth shut, letting her get it all out.

“I also think I was pretty naive, because winter here has been a lot more challenging than I expected. Beautiful, but a little hard in some ways too. Having to stay inside so much and all of the heavy coats and everything,” she said. “Pretty sure long-term I’d be fine in either place, but I just don’t know where Ada would have the best life.”

“You’re right, there’s a lot to consider. But there’s no rush to make a decision, right?” I asked. “You can take your time, see how you feel about everything.”

“Yeah.” Her grip on me tightened as a happy voice drifted down the hallway. “Eric, is your mom singing a song about … baby poop?”

“Yes, she is.”

“Wow. I think I love her.”

*

Jean trailed kisses over my stubbly chin, down my neck, and onto my chest while I lay flat on my back on her bed. An excellent place to be. When the baby slept, the adults played. If that meant midday sex shenanigans, then so be it. Fine with me. I still wasn’t sure where Jean’s head was at, and whether sex with me was just what she liked to do to avoid making any big decisions. But I was beginning to think maybe the thing that mattered was where my head was at. And I had some increasingly firm thoughts about that. So I just relaxed back into the mattress and enjoyed her attentions.

“Can’t believe you made your poor mom show up here at the crack of dawn,” she murmured.

“Let’s not talk about my mom while we’re naked.”

Amusement lit in her eyes. “Hmm.”

“Please?”

“All right.” Her hand wrapped around my aching dick, giving it a pump, making my head spin. Ever so slowly she worked her way down my torso.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

The grin she gave me was an even mix of evil and delighted. Wicked woman.

Basically, being in bed with Jean was like every Christmas, birthday, and any other happy event all rolled into one. I shoved another pillow beneath my head, all the better to watch her do her thing. Currently, that involved lightly nibbling high on my hip bone. I shifted restlessly, sucking in a breath, and her fingers tightened, playing with me.

“You’re ticklish,” she said.

“Am not.”

“Liar. But I’ll revisit the issue later.”

I just watched her.

“I have other plans right now.”

Thank fuck for that. So being tickled wasn’t my favorite thing in the world. Pretty sure, however, having Jean’s gorgeous lips wrapped around my dick would be. It was on the edge of my tongue to blurt out that I loved her or other such craziness (not saying it wasn’t necessarily true—just that spitting it out right at that point in time would be insane). To tell her all my secrets, though she probably knew most of them already. But luckily, she used her tongue first, swiping it across the head of my cock.

She smacked her lips at the bead of pre-cum and honest to god purred. “Salty.”

“I love … being with you.” Oh, shit. Good save. “Yeah. This is … this is really nice.”

“Nice?” Her brows quirked. “I’ll give you nice.”

And she did.

The woman sucked my cock like she owned it. Let’s face facts, she probably did. Eager tongue and just a trace of teeth. Her lips working me up and up. Holy hell, I’d never been so hard in my life. Clever fingers rolled my balls, pausing to tug a little now and then. Next, the pads of her fingers massaged my perineum, slipping back to tease over my asshole occasionally. At some stage, I gave up trying to watch and just let my eyes roll back into my head. So much sensation.

“Jean. Sweetheart,” I said, voice hard and gritty.

“Nice enough, Eric?”

“Fuck me, yes.”

Her tongue traced lines along the veins in my dick before teasing around the ridge around the head. Then she took me deep, dragging her lips up the length of me before giving me her tongue again. The muscles in my thighs and stomach were rock hard. Come boiled in my ball sack, just like my blood. Then, when I was almost there, she whipped out a condom and got me sheathed. Threw a leg over me, and took me deep into her hot wet cunt.