The Player and the Single Mom

That’s all he said. Nothing else.

The idea hung in the room between us and I turned it over in my head. I trusted Cash, first and foremost. That was huge. He was a good guy and would be careful and considerate with me. He knew my history. Those were definite advantages. But it seemed unlikely that we would have the kind of chemistry required to get me where I wanted to go.

“You said every woman requires a different approach. How would you approach me?” I asked, more curious than I cared to admit. “Since you know me a little. You know, approach me theoretically.”

He gave me a look, one I’d never seen him wear before. It was intense, sexual. “Well, you’re a single mom running a business. You have very little free time and you’ve been out of the game for a long time.”

All true. I nodded.

Then he shocked the hell of me.

“The first time, I’d take you hard and fast. Skirt up, panties down, against a wall. Shake it all loose and remind you of what it’s like to feel like a woman. Not a mom, but what it is to be a woman. To feel a quick, hot satisfaction.”

His words went straight to the heart of the matter and to my inner thighs. I parted my lips, nipples hardening, imagery of just what he’d described floating across my mind. I was going to speak, ask him something, but then I couldn’t think of anything to say other than, “Oh yes, please.”

Not exactly playing it cool.

Cash kept going.

“You make a hundred decisions a day by yourself as a mom and a business owner. You need someone to make the decisions in bed for you. Then you can just let go, forget everything in your regular, everyday life, and just enjoy yourself. So after we have a quick, hard fuck, the second time I’d give you a relaxing massage, rubbing oil all over your body, listening to you moan in pleasure. Then I’d go down on you and stay there with my tongue until you were one-hundred-percent relaxed. Then you would come so hard that your back would arch and your nails would dig into my scalp and you'd forget how to breathe.”

His words painted a picture I had no trouble seeing. Massage, check. Tongue, check. Come, check. “Um, I’m actually getting turned on.”

“So am I.”

I glanced down at Cash’s jeans and saw the outline of a very hard, very large cock.

“Oh my God,” I blurted out before I could prevent myself.

“What’s going on, you two?” my sister’s boyfriend Miles said, coming up on us in the kitchen.

I took a step back from Cash so quickly that my ankle turned in the heels I was no longer used to wearing. I almost stumbled but Cash reached out and grabbed my arm, preventing me from falling.

“Nothing’s going on, what would be going on?” I said to Miles, even as I shook Cash off of me. My cheeks were burning and my voice sounded shrill and hysterical.

Miles studied me briefly and then said, “It was just a general sort of ‘what’s up?’ question while I grabbed some shrimp.”

“Right.” I put my finger out and pointed at him, which was a weird gesture, but I was already committed to it. “Gotcha. Of course. Welp. Nothing’s up. Bye.” I turned and fast-walked in the direction of the sofas and prayed the floor would swallow me up.

Miles hadn’t asked what was going on with us as a twosome, but asked us as two individuals. And I’d been so lost in a haze of arousal that when Miles had walked up, I’d felt like I’d been caught having sex with Cash buck-ass naked in the middle of the party. Things between us had felt intimate and dirty and very, very intriguing.

Now I felt confused and like I was going to need to go home and have a date night with Big Ben, my vibrator. Named for the fact that the clock was always ticking on my alone time. And my time with Big Ben would be spent replaying over and over those low, sexy as fuck words Cash had spoken. Who knew he had that kind of smooth talking up his sleeve? Who knew him saying the word “fuck” would feel so scandalous and dirty and like a hot jolt right to my pussy?

Sex with Cash Young.

I couldn’t think about anything else now.

Cash

Watching Sera rush away,I took in the sight of her small, firm ass in those tight jeans. I loved how tall she was, those long legs giving her gait a seductive sway. Well, normally. At the moment, she stumbled again in her heels and kind of fell onto the sofa, spilling her drink in her lap. I heard her swear from where I was still standing in the kitchen, fighting the need to adjust my very hard cock in my own jeans.

Miles was staring at me. I cleared my throat and picked up an olive off the island buffet and tossed it into my mouth. Then I lifted my beer to my lips and took a huge swallow. He was still staring at me.

“What?” I asked. “Why are you staring at me?” I knew exactly why he was staring at me. Sera and I had been standing really close to each other, heads down in conversation.

“I’ve never seen Sera like that. She looked guilty.”

I shrugged. “I think you just startled her.” One of my superpowers is casual nonchalance no matter the circumstances.

Miles didn’t know that I had been hot for Sera from the first second I’d laid eyes on her two months earlier in her bakery, Sugar Lips. She’d been covered in flour and flustered, her face naturally beautiful without makeup, and she’d gotten pissed off at me for calling her ma’am and accidentally making her feel old. Ever since that moment, I’d been watching and waiting for a moment when I could prove to her that I thought she was anything but old.

What she was, was smoking hot and I wanted to touch and taste every single inch of her from head to toe.

“Okay,” Miles said, picking up a plate and piling shrimp on it. “Let’s say that I don’t believe you, for argument’s sake. You do remember that Sera is my girlfriend’s sister, right? And that they’re really tight?”

“Of course I remember that. I see Sera almost every week when her kids go riding on my ranch. We’ve become friends.”

“Just friends?”

I nodded. Technically, that wasn’t a lie. “Just friends.”