Playing with Love by Jess Gleam

Author:Jess Gleam [Gleam, Jess]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jess Gleam
Published: 2019-01-06T16:00:00+00:00

SO DAD’S ALMOST CHOKING on a piece of toast, and Mom is glaring at me like the crumbs shooting from Dad’s mouth onto her white pantsuit are somehow my fault.

Thanks, Alistair.

Honestly, it’s pretty shaded so it’s not like we could make out any details other than the fact he was naked. Though Mom did seem to be staring rather intently. That is embarrassing; I don’t want her looking anywhere near my — my boyfriend? Partner? Fuck buddy? Eurgh.

I can’t be too mad at having the chance to admire his fine body again. It took me forever to get out of bed this morning, I just didn’t want to leave him.

What a night.

I can’t quite believe what we got up to. I woke up with the dizzying, sickening sense that it must have been a dream — a man so focused on my pleasure? It’s never happened. Not once in my entire life.

If I knew how happy I could have been with a kind and decent man, there’s no way I would have spent a second on that loser Danny.

Of course, at least one good thing came out of that mess.

I stroke James’s head. He’s resting comfortably in his sling. I actually felt a little embarrassed this morning, when I slinked over to him. It was like performing some kind of walk of shame, only toward a travel cot. It’s not like I’ve had sex since James was born — this whole world is new to me — and I’d been worried that perhaps we’d been ridiculously inappropriate. Maybe we’d let our emotions overrule our common sense, and James had picked up on it? In the bright light of day, the thought of him being mentally scarred for life terrified me.

But there he was, kicking his limbs with glee, as he looked up into my face.

I like to think he was saying, “Well done, Mom, proud of ya,” but he was probably too busy dreaming of milk.

“Oh, and there he is,” Mom says. I look up.

Alistair is striding across the lawn, hair damp from the shower, wearing some sort of flannel shirt. He looks like a handsome lumberjack, which makes me laugh, because if ever there was anyone advised by their school’s career counselor not to become a lumberjack, it would have to be Alistair.

I can’t stop the enormous grin from breaking over my face. He returns it, kinda shy, because we’re in front of my parents.

It’s like we’re in our own little world.

He nods at the little one. “Hey, James.” Then, eyes meeting, he greets my parents in turn before settling down himself.

“Apologies for whatever you may or may not have witnessed by the window,” he says smoothly. “I was getting ready for a shower, and your beautiful lawn was just too irresistible. I had to take a second to admire it.”

I try to stifle my snort.

He looks over to Mom and asks in a conversational tone, “How is it you get the grass such a vivid color?”

Bless him for trying to get involved.

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