All In With Him (Men of Summer 3)

Pleasure annihilates me, and I shoot all over his hand and my stomach. With a savage grunt, my man goes wild in me, filling me up with his come, biting down on my neck before he lets go and roars out a deafening yes, fucking yes, yes, yes, yes.

It’s the loudest Declan’s ever been, and that’s saying something.

He’s right. It gets better every single time.

Because it’s sex, but it’s also love and trust and hope. And it’s how we show each other just how far and deep we can go.

As Declan wraps his strong arms around me, he holds me close, sighing happily. We don’t need words right now. We can talk without them, and I know we’re both feeling the same thing.

This is forever.

A few minutes later, we get in the shower to clean up. I’m still in that state of exhausted bliss as he runs soap up and down my body. “I like getting you dirty. I like getting you clean. I like when you let me into your body and your mind,” Declan tells me.

That’s the other thing—sex is intimacy in every way. It brings us closer each time. “I want you there in every way,” I say as he washes me.

When we’re out, I grab a towel, wrap it around my waist, and make an announcement. “I’m really hungry.”

“Want me to make you a sandwich?”

“I do.”

In the kitchen, he whips out a skillet, butter, some Gouda cheese, and a couple orange and yellow peppers. He cooks with more finesse than I’ve ever seen him manage in the kitchen. Soon, he serves up a perfectly oozy, yummy sandwich that we share over the kitchen counter, both wearing nothing but towels wrapped around our waists.

“This is kind of both sexy and domestic,” I observe.

“Sounds like us,” he adds.

“You’re better in the kitchen than I thought.”

“Mom loved to make sandwiches. She taught me how.”

“I like your mom,” I say.

Declan laughs around a bite, then finishes it and says, “Me too.”

This seems like a good moment to let him into my mind. If he wants to know all of me, I’m going to keep showing him. Because I know this man. I have a good feeling that he needs what I can give him. Faith in him. The faith I hope he’ll have in himself. “You know, Deck, you’re more like her than your dad.”

With a grin he asks, “You think so?”

“She’s amazing. So are you. She’s a great role model,” I say, with none of the trepidation that I felt in the car a month ago. With none of the nerves. He knows what I want. I’m not afraid to let him know I still want a family, and that I have enough faith for the two of us. “Just think about that, Deck.”

He sets down the sandwich, reaches for my hand, threads our fingers together. “I am thinking about it. I promise. Don’t take my silence for a no.”

I smile as Declan kisses me. I won’t take it for a no. But it’s not a yes either.

25

Declan

A month later

When I finish my Friday morning workout at the neighborhood gym, I walk up Fillmore Street, grab an iced tea at my favorite coffee shop, then call Mom as I make my way home.

Even though I lived in San Francisco during my first four years on the Cougars, this city is home to me now in an entirely new way. It still blows my mind how much I love being here with Grant. What would it be like to be here in ten years with him? Maybe with Grant and a family? That’s what I’m still trying to imagine, and the picture’s still blurry.

That’s why I need to talk to Mom.

“Any chance you’re free tomorrow after my game? I was hoping to chat with you again about the whole making you a grandma or not thing,” I say.

With a laugh, she answers, “Yes, of course.”

This isn’t the first time I’ve reached out to her to talk about the big issue. We chatted a few weeks ago when Grant was out of town in August. Grabbed a coffee one morning before she went into work, and I told her everything he’d said about wanting to have a family someday.

She listened, nodded and said it was a lot to think about.

It was.

It is.

And I’m still thinking.

I haven’t stopped thinking.

“Do you want me to come over now? I know Grant’s in Seattle,” she says, since she follows the team’s schedules.

“He’s coming back Sunday night. But it’s not urgent, Mom. I’m just working through some stuff. I talked to Carla too, but wanted to chat with you, as well.”

“Ah, I didn’t know you were still seeing your therapist, sweetie.” I can hear the smile in her voice. The pride too—she’s the one who encouraged me nearly two years ago to see someone. “That’s great. I’m so glad you’re still in touch with her.”