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His erection presses into me, and before I know it, he’s grinding into me. “How easily does this come off?”
“Not easy,” I tell him, my own breathing ragged and out of control.
He tries and fails. “Jesus Christ, is it glued on?”
I laugh, trying to untangle myself from him. No way do we have time to be doing this, and the door isn’t locked.
As luck would have it, Sevi crawls into the room, points downstairs and barks.
Noah laughs. “What is it, boy? Did Johnny fall in the well?”
Sevi looks at him like he’s lost his mind, which could be argued on both sides here. Of course, Sevi doesn’t answer Noah either and crawls off while continuing to bark. Then we hear pounding, like someone is beating on the door.
Noah rolls his eyes. “I’m getting this off you by the end of the night.”
I smile and pat his shoulder. “If you’re nice, I might help ya out even.”
I push away from him, intending on seeing what the pounding is all about when Noah whirls me into his chest. “Did you hear a question mark on the end of that statement?”
With my hands on his chest, I curl my fingers into the cotton of his shirt and stare at him, fighting back a smile. He’s so hot when he’s rough and possessive. “No.”
“It was a demand. I’m getting you out of it, and you’re going to let me suck on those hangy-down tits I love so much.”
I burst out laughing because guess who is at our feet and points up at me as she says, “My tits!” and makes the sign she knows for milk while scowling at Noah.
Clear as goddamn day, our daughter’s first words are, “my tits.” They’re not said politely either. It’s like she’s been thinking about it for an entire year and chooses that moment to claim her territory.
Parents of the year, right here.
Noah and I stare at one another, then to Finley, and burst out laughing. We could argue she was hungry, but I don’t know. Maybe not?
Eighteen
Haunted Houses and Neighbors
(I could have done without both.)
Tits.
My daughter’s first word is tits. With Oliver or Sevi, I think I would have been proud. With Fin, I’m concerned. Her first words after seeing me with my hands on her mother’s tits are “My tits!”
Part of me wanted to pick her up and celebrate the moment. After all, she said her first words. That’s a big deal. Then there’s a portion of me, a very large portion, that wants to tell her, “They were mine first.”
Instead, I laugh, because apparently, I lack maturity, and hearing the word tit by someone so small makes me laugh. Don’t tell Kelly this, but I used to teach Oliver bad words just because I thought it was funny. Now I understand why this is potentially a bad idea.
While Kelly feeds Fin, I sneak downstairs with my Dracula cape Kelly told me I was wearing tonight. I hate dressing up for Halloween. Even as a kid, I never saw the point in it. I also can’t stop thinking about Kelly in that fucking Catwoman outfit, if you can call it that. Jesus Christ. How the fuck am I going to make it through the block party with her dressed like that? Do you remember the pounding we heard? I’m on the hunt to find out what it is when I round the staircase and into the kitchen. That’s when the pounding gets louder and louder, until… I find it.
Side note here. Since having five kids around, nothing surprises me anymore. Okay, rarely anything. Even the scene before me isn’t all that surprising because you knew Hazel would get her revenge on Oliver someday, didn’t you?
That being said, I find Hazel leaning against the basement door eating candy. One piece at a time with about five wrappers around her.
And then I hear the banging continue and Oliver yelling at the top of his lungs. “Let me out, butthead!”
“No!” Hazel yells back.
I fight off a smile. I should keep a straight face, but it’s hard to with how mean Oliver has been to her lately. “Hazel, what are you doing?”
She looks up at me. “Mind your business.”