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Despite the cherry pie incident, Ridge is good with the boys. He even helps me get them into bed that night, and I think the only reason he does is so he can get some. He’s like an eager teenager.

Do you see the way he’s looking at me? No? Oh, right, he’s not. He’s standing in the hallway with his arms crossed, shaking his head and refusing to step foot in my bedroom. “I’m not doing it inhisbed.”

Now I get it. Can’t say I blame him. “Then what do you suggest?”

“The floor. . . or your minivan.” Take notice in the way he’s waggling his eyebrows. He wants me to choosethatoption.

But that’s perfect because it’s in the garage. . . away from the house and the boys wouldn’t hear us. “That’s actually a good idea.”

“Really?” He looks surprised, but still eager.

“Yep.

“All right then. Go.” He slaps my ass, hard, leading me out the sliding glass door to the garage.

We sneak through the yard, tiptoeing to the garage like we’re teenagers again. Because we are.

I open the side door, and Ridge leans in, his hands on the roof examining the inside. “Do the seats fold down?”

I think I already told him, but apparently, he’s forgotten. “It’s a minivan. Of course they do.”

I begin flipping levers and folding seats down and Ridge is absolutely no help. He’s watchingCars.

“Thanks for the help, jerk.”

“Sorry.” He moves to lay down. “You. . . ow.” He pulls a football cleat out from under him. “Shit. You need a mattress back here.”

I eye him carefully. “Idon’tplan on making a habit out of this—”

My words are cut off by Ridge biting my shoulder. Hard. He leaves an imprint of his fucking teeth. “I plan on making a habit out ofthat.”

“Goddamn you.” I touch the red mark with my fingertips. It’s tender yet strangely numb. “Stop biting me.”

“Why?”

“Because it hurts.”

“It gets you off.”

“Bullshit.”

His eyes have that spark to them, like he’s accepting a challenge. “I’ll prove it.” He grabs me, grinding his hips into mine as I climb on top of him.

I giggle at his excitement. “You’re hard already?”

“You’re on top of me straddling my waist. Of course I’m hard. And you know,Carsalways gets me hot.”

A minivan seems like the perfect place to have sex. Seems being the keyword here. In actuality, there’s knobs, seat buckles and then all the other crap inside the van I pushed aside to get going.

Also, I’ll point out, the door is open. Not the garage door. That’s locked. The door to the van. Pay attention to that particular detail in about, I don’t know, five minutes?

Anyway, there we are. . . the van’s a rocking, and I’m enjoying the hell out of it. Aside from the fact that I literally have rug burn on my cheek and my ass is up in the air while Ridge pile drives me from behind.

I open one eye about the time Ridge shifts his position, his hand on the ceiling and I realize what he’s about to touch.

“Wait, don’t put your hand up there there’s a. . . .” Notice how my voice trails off?

That’s because, despite my warning, Ridge pushes the SOS button with his thumb.