checking out every last detail.
I’m so focused on Prissy’s reactions that I fail to notice how pale Whitney has become.
“All right, Priss. Your momma’s not feeling well, and it’s late. I know you’re excited, but it’s time for bed, okay?”
“Fine,” she sulks, trudging to the bathroom with her bag.
“Are you okay?” I plop down beside her on the couch, resting a hand on her knee.
“Yeah,” Whitney says, yawning. “Just still really tired from that sleeping pill.”
“Go on to bed,” I tell her. “I’ll take the couch.”
“Y’all can stop doing that,” Prissy barks, ambling out of the bathroom in her mummy Halloween pajamas, her face screwed up in annoyance. “You can sleep in the same bed. I know y’all do when I’m not there.”
Whitney snorts, grabbing her daughter by the arm and hauling her into her lap for a cuddle. “I love you, brat.” She nuzzles her face into Prissy’s neck.
“I love you too…but you still don’t have to treat me like a baby.”
“You’re right, we do sleep in the same bed when you aren’t there,” her mother confirms, shocking me speechless. “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Quiet as a mouse, I sit here, a silent spectator, wondering how this’ll play out. I fully expected Whitney to deny, deny, deny. But I really shouldn’t be all that surprised by the honesty in her response. She has a respect for her daughter that I’ve come to admire. Whitney and her parents don’t talk down to her or treat her like any less of a person just because she’s little. It’s made Prissy a confident and very intelligent child, albeit sometimes a little too big for her britches.
Prissy gives an exaggerated shrug. “Why would I be uncomfortable? Y’all the ones with each other’s feet in your back. I have two whole beds to myself.”
“I apologize for treating you like a baby, Miss Priss.” Whit peppers her cheeks with kisses. “Can you ever forgive me?”
“Just don’t let it happen again.” Prissy squirms in her mother’s lap, trying to fight her off.
“Yes, ma’am.” With a giggle, she sends her off to bed with a playful swat to the behind.
“So…?” I look to Whitney, widening my eyes in question, not wanting to assume anything.
“We can share the bed.”
Yes!
By the time we’ve gotten ourselves ready and climbed in between the sheets, Prissy is already snoring the roof in.
“This is weird,” I say, lying flat on my back, staring up at the ceiling with Whitney beside me, but…not. At least a foot separates us. It’s more torturous than having her across the room. At this distance I can smell her perfume and feel the heat her body’s giving off. The urge to wrap myself around her is so damn strong, but our little cockblock is right on the other side of the wall in her bunkhouse.
I walk my fingers across the mattress until I find Whitney’s hand and give it a squeeze, then lift it to my mouth and pepper kisses along her knuckles. “I love you, Whit.”
She rolls onto her side to face me. I can just barely make out the whites of her eyes as she props her head in her hand. “I love you too,” she whispers, combing her fingers through my hair before stuffing a pillow between us. “Just in case we forget she’s here during the night.” Her giggle is one laden with frustration. But hey, delayed gratification is just one of those things you get used to with a kid around. Keeps the fire burning hot, desire constantly simmering beneath the surface, and the climax—fucking explosive. Every. Single. Time.
“Good thinking.” I’m still not quite sure that’ll be enough to keep me from pawing her in my sleep, but I’m willing to give it an honest try.
After leaning over the barrier for a chaste goodnight kiss, she flops onto her pillow. With her fingers intwined in mine, I stroke the underside of her wrist until we drift off to sleep.
Never in my life have I been more thankful that my child loves her some sleep than I am right now, as I find myself waking up to Wyatt’s face buried in my nape and his morning wood pressing into my ass like a light saber ready to do battle. Desire floods my veins, and the rhythm of my heartbeat borders on erratic.
Powerless to resist, I trail a hand between us, palming the steel rod and caressing him in long languid strokes until he awakens fully.
“Shhh,” I whisper at the sound of