Where We Belong (Alabama Summer #3.5)

Seems like a flawless plan, right?

Wrong.

Chase wouldn’t nap until Nolan came home from school. I should’ve known, my sweet boy needs constant noise to pass out. The non-stop chatter of his big brother seems to do the trick. This was also around the same time Chase became extra clingy, refusing to allow me even a moment of privacy to use the bathroom. So, when I thought I could sit him in his high-chair with a few toys and sneak into my bedroom for a quickie, he would scream, and scream, and scream, like someone was actually hurting him.

I felt terrible. I scolded myself for being the worst mother on earth. How could I put my own needs before his?

Now that Nolan’s off for the summer and home twenty-four hours a day? Chase naps anytime I want him to and doesn’t even flinch if I need to use the bathroom.

Their plan has been flawless from day one.

Tessa yawns, breaking up the soft noise of the T.V. in the background. “Just put on a movie for him or something. Or tell him to go play in his room. This is what iPads are for.”

“Tessa, you know how curious Nolan is. He hears a door shutting anywhere in this house and he comes investigating. And I swear to God, he knows when I’m naked and barges in at that exact moment. He’s just like Ben.”

“Those Kelly boys,” she laughs. “Tits men for life.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s in their blood.”

“Speaking of tits, I wanna go out and get a new bikini for the wedding. Mine are all faded from my parent’s pool.”

The wedding, Reed and Beth’s. We’re all heading down to Sparrow’s Island next week for the ceremony. Beth really wanted to get married on the beach, and her sweet aunt and uncle are sparing no expense. From the pictures I’ve seen online, the beach itself is beautiful. White sands and crystal blue water. Tessa and I are in the wedding, along with Riley, Reed’s sister, Ben, Luke, CJ, and the boys. We’re all staying in villas right on the beach with spectacular views of the ocean.

I can’t wait to get away for a few days. After the past two months, I feel like we all need it.

“You know, when you say you want to get a new bikini for the wedding, it sounds like you’re actually going to wear it during the ceremony,” I tell her, smiling. “You are planning on wearing the dress Beth picked out for us, right? They’ve already been paid for.”

Tessa gasps. “Oh, my God. Can you imagine Ben if you wore a bikini during the ceremony? He would gouge out every pair of eyes belonging to men within a fifty mile radius. You should absolutely do it.”

“What?” I giggle, shifting on the mattress a bit.

Is she crazy? He would do more than gouge out their eyes.

“What about Luke? What would he do if you wore one and he saw you walking down the aisle half naked?”

“Luke?” Tessa pauses, thinking silently for a minute. “Mm. He’d probably drag me down to the sand and fuck me in front of my parents. Like a savage.”

“Oh, that’s nice. I’m sure Ben wouldn’t mind watching his sister being taken.”

My phone beeps with an incoming text. I hold it above me.

Ben: Goddamn, Angel. This is the worst possible time for my dick to be hard.

My cheeks burn. Oh, is it?

I place the phone back to my ear, catching the tail-end of Tessa’s amusing reaction. “Hey, I gotta go. Let me know when you want to run out and I’ll go with you.”

“Cool. I’ll ask Beth too. One more night of this sexless hell.”

I laugh. “Yeah. See ya.”

I end the call and run my tongue along my bottom lip as I type out my response.

Me: So telling you how wet my fingers are isn’t something you should know right now?

Me: Oops . . .

My phone starts to ring, startling me and wiping the smirk off my face. Running my free hand over my racing heart, I answer the call in my most nonchalant voice.

“Hello?”

“Mia,” Ben growls.

The hairs on my neck stand up.

Shit. Is he pissed?

“H-Hi, babe. I wasn’t really . . .”

“How many fingers are you using?”

His question squeezes the air from my lungs, or his demand, rather, because that’s what it sounds like. An order, spoken by the only man I’ve ever gotten off with, for, from. You name it. Ben is and always will be the only man, and right now, he isn’t asking how I’m touching myself. He’s making sure I’m doing it.

While he’s at work.

Hot holy fuck.

I wet my lips again as I slide my hand down my body and into my panties, over my sensitive flesh and through my slick heat. “One,” I softly reply, my voice shaking, my fingers soaked and trembling.

His heavy breathing fills my ear. “You pretending it’s me, Angel?”

“Yes.”

“You forget how thick I am?”

I close my eyes, moaning. “Jesus, Ben. Are you by yourself?”

“Do you really think I’d be getting my wife off over the phone with Luke’s nosey ass sitting next to me? I told him to take a walk.”

A smile pulls at my mouth.

Seriously stupid question on my part. Of course Ben wouldn’t be speaking to me like this if anyone was in hearing distance. He doesn’t share my pleasure. The times that he has taken me while we’ve been out in public have been rare occurrences, and ones I usually beg for.

“You can be quick,” I’ll tell him. “And I can be quiet.”

He’ll debate both of my suggestions with believable resistance, but once my top comes off he forgets how to argue.

“Baby.” Ben’s voice sends a shiver up my spine. “How many fingers?”

“Three.” My breath hitches as I stretch myself. Wetness trickles onto my palm. “So wet,” I whisper.

“Fuck, I wish I was there. Touching you. Sliding inside of you. Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you, Mia?”

“Yes,” I gasp.

“I wouldn’t be slow, baby. God, I couldn’t. Not tonight. I need you . . . on my cock. That sweet, wet pussy gripping me.” His breath starts coming out in sharp pants. “Spread your legs. I want them wide, Angel. Come on.”

My hips burn as I bend my knees and pull my legs up. “They are. They’re so wide it hurts.”

“Good. Now fuck yourself like I would. Fast, baby. I want to hear it. Wanna hear how wet you are.”

Moaning, I think about Ben next to me, hovering over me, his wild gray eyes locked between my legs while I pump my fingers in and out. In and out. Faster. My thumb brushing over my clit, rubbing it like he does.

I twist my wrist. A soft squelching noise tickles the air.

“Do you hear me?” I ask, my heart racing and my breathing sharp. “Ben . . .”

“Angel,” he growls, his voice vibrating through my body.

I swear, it gets me wetter.

“Keep going. You’re making such a mess for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, it’s . . . I’m dripping. On my hand. Oh, God, Ben.”

“Fuck.”

He sounds desperate. Just as turned on as I am.

I picture him stroking his cock while he watches me. He’s throbbing, the head red and swollen. Dripping. Oh, God, he’s dripping too. He uses two hands, gripping his balls while rubbing his shaft against my thigh.