Sterling Clay by L.B. Dunbar

Author:L.B. Dunbar [Dunbar, L.B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: L.B. Dunbar Writes, Ltd.
Published: 2024-09-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

[Mavis]

Nothing surprises me more than when Clay exits his bedroom, wearing the VillainMan costume from Princess Power.

“Dutton, look!” I choke, as he has his back to the hallway when Clay enters the living room. From his position on the couch, Dutton does a double take, then jumps up on the cushions and squeals, shocking me. I thought he might shriek in fright.

Instead, he leaps over the back of the couch, like he’s the actual Pink Princess and intends to tackle Clay. Only Clay catches Dutton and brings him to his chest, holding my son like he’s a gift. Like he’s his.

I shake the thought. It’s too much to consider.

“What do you think?” Clay holds Dutton on his hip while glancing down at himself, cool as a cucumber, and not displaying one bit of emotion about the sexy time that just happened in his bathroom.

As for me, I am still wet between my thighs and feeling the imprint of his fingers touching me. It’s going to be a long evening.

And yet, Clay looks even sexier, holding Dutton and dressed in a costume that complements my son’s.

“This looks amazing.” Dutton squeals again, running his hand over Clay’s chest and the padded pieces that exaggerate his size.

Clay sets Dutton on his feet. “I was going for scary.” He jumps into a karate pose.

Dutton only laughs, and the sound tickles my insides. “I’ll give you a nine point two.”

“What?” Clay straightens and his expression stills. “I’m at least a nine point eight six.”

Dutton bites his lip and shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Oh, man,” Clay drones like a child. “I’ll work on it.”

“You do that,” Dutton admonishes, attempting to sound stern but giggling afterwards.

“Okay, people.” Clay claps his hands once. “Ready for a party?”

“Yeah,” Dutton raises his arms in the air and wiggles his hips side to side before rushing to the front door.

“Jacket,” I holler as the temperature has dropped in the final days of October. “Let me just grab the function dip and—”

I’m cut off as Clay follows closely behind me, practically shoving me into his kitchen. He checks over his shoulder as if he can see the front door from our position then turns toward me. “You didn’t kiss me.”

“I certainly did.” I keep my voice low reminding him with a glare that I had him deep down my throat only minutes ago.

“No, a kiss.” He taps his mouth, and I chew my lip. He glances around the corner of the kitchen again. Then he sneakily dives for my mouth with his, the kiss fast but direct, sucking on my lower lip before swiping his tongue into my mouth. When he pulls back, he steps away from me like he didn’t just take my final ounce of energy. I fall against the refrigerator and nervously laugh, covering my lips with my fingers as I can still feel the kiss on my lips.

And the kiss is the last thing I need to officially calm my nerves and face this party, where his family will be present in one place and old neighbors will gather and speculate about me.

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