Page 21 of Accidental Dad’s Best Friend (Unintentionally Yours #7)

Izzy

“ Y our dad needs to be stopped.” I hear Ethan’s voice followed immediately by the front door closing.

I’m in the kitchen making mac and cheese for Jax and I nearly come out of my skin.

“Ethan!” Jax leaps up from the couch, Spongebob still playing on the TV, and runs over to him. “Mommy, Ethan is here!”

I appear from the kitchen, arms crossed and my hip popped in clear disapproval. “I see that. Apparently Ethan doesn’t realize that he can’t just come and go as he pleases.”

I know he has the door code. I could have changed it after he signed the papers on the place but I never bothered to.

Now I’m rethinking it. It’s bad enough that I am on edge from the recent events.

But the fact that seeing him in my living room, my kid ( his kid…) wrapped around him in a koala hug, is doing nothing for my nerves either.

If I am going to get used to my life long forbidden crush just appearing in my house on a regular, unannounced basis, I’m going to need to prepare for it.

At the very least, I should have a bra on under my Men at Work t-shirt so he can’t see that the sight of him makes my nipples hard.

Speaking of the sight of him, he’s in jeans and a Rockies baseball jersey. He’s also unphased by my expression.

“He’s going after the League,” he goes on, walking into the kitchen and searching the fridge for a beer.

“Hasn’t he already done that?” I ask, returning to the pasta.

“Yeah but it fell flat last time.” He uses the New Belgium Brewing bottle opener slash magnet on the fridge to pop the cap of his beer and takes a swig.

“Not enough facts?”

“Not enough lies,” he snorts.

“So what do you suggest we do?” I ask, moving the pot to the sink to strain the noodles.

Meanwhile, Ethan is leaning back against the counter casually, feet crossed at the ankles, beer in hand, like he owns the place. Like he belongs here…

“About the League? Nothing. Nothing we can do. But we can get this article rolling and put a stop to it. That we can do.”

Ethan’s tone is on fire. He is really riled up about it.

I am still nervous. I am also wondering why he came here to tell me this instead of calling or texting.

As I finish throwing the mac and cheese together complete with sliced hot dogs, I set the bowl on the table for Jax and tell him to come eat.

“Kraft with hot dogs?” Ethan asks.

“Yeah,” I grimace. “He loves it.”

“It’s the best,” Jax says, sitting down and digging in. “Mommy doesn’t like it but I love it. More than McDonald’s even!”

“Which is good because it’s cheaper,” I smile, setting a juice pouch down for him.

“I’m not surprised,” Ethan says. “Your mommy used to eat that too.”

I freeze.

“You knew mommy when she was a kid?” Jaxon asks and Ethan’s face tells me he realizes this is complicated.

“I’ve known her…a while,” he says. Luckily Jaxon is five and not fifteen and the answer suffices.

“I don’t like mac and cheese anymore,” I add. “But I love hot dogs.”

“That’s good,” Ethan says, tossing his empty bottle in the trash. “Because we are going to a baseball game.”

“We are?!” Jax exclaims.

“We are?” I echo.

“Yep. It starts in about an hour so eat up.”

I shake my head but Ethan avoids eye contact with me. I can’t exactly say no now that he got the idea inside Jax’s head. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he knows that.

“I haven’t been here since high school,” I say as we take our seats at Coors Field.

They’re good seats, right behind the catcher.

Not that I am surprised. Ethan isn’t really like my dad when it comes to money.

He doesn’t flex it. He doesn’t over spend it.

But he uses it with things that matter. Like baseball.

“On a date actually,” I go on as Ethan sits next to me.

“A date huh?” He asks, handing me the beer he bought for me. He also got me a hotdog, along with a foam finger, a jersey and an icecream for Jax. “Did your dad know about it?”

I snort. “Of course not.”

“And who was this date with?” He asks, taking a bite of his own dog.

“His name was David and he was interested in only four things– skateboarding, baseball, and me. He was charming and cute and smelled like Axe and the tail end of a cigarette he shouldn’t have been smoking.”

“Sounds like a winner.”

“I thought he was exciting,” I shrug, taking a bite of my mustard only hot dog and washing it down with a gulp of beer.

“So what was the fourth thing?”

I swallow before answering. “My best friend.”

Ethan cringes. “Ouch.”

“Yeah. He dated her for four years after that until she cheated on him.”

“So he’s up for grabs again?” He teases and I laugh.

“No idea. Not interested.”

We both smile and eat our food in a comfortable silence. Ethan explains to Jax how baseball works and Jax takes it all in like a sponge. I would expect a five year old to eventually get bored at a baseball game but he doesn’t. We glance over at him and find him pumping the foam finger into the air.

“I think you ruined him,” I smile, leaning into Ethan.

“Baseball is good for the soul,” Ethan says. The static from the sides of our bodies pressed together in the too-small stadium seats is making every nerve in my body tingle.

“Hey,” he says, and the moment I turn to look at him, his, he steals a kiss.

I gasp, nearly sucking his breath from his lips. “Ethan…we can’t.”

“He didn’t see.”

“Still,” I smile, “If he does see, it’ll confuse him.”

“Do you think he would be upset if you were dating someone?” Ethan asks and I have no idea what to do with that question, for more reasons than one.

“We aren’t dating, Ethan.”

“But if you were to date someone…”

“He’d be nothing like you.” I cut him off and his mouth pops open. I giggle and nudge him and Ethan pokes at my ribs playfully. I laugh and grab his hand. “I’m kidding.”

“Are you though? Would you ever?”

“Would I ever what?”

“Date someone like me.”

I think about how to answer that. I can’t say what I’m thinking. That I don’t want to date someone like him, I want to date him . Instead, I just smile over at Jax who is still watching the game happily.

I bite my lips. “I’m not sure. Sometimes he seems perfectly content that it’s just him and I. Other times I see him watching families and I wonder what he’s thinking.”

Ethan studies me for a moment before settling back into his seat, his eyes on the field.

But his gaze is somewhere else. Somewhere far away.

Contemplative. He chews on the inside of his cheek and for a moment, I wonder what he is thinking.

I wonder if he’s connecting dots. If maybe he already knows what I’m not telling him.

And if he does, how does he feel about it.

We get home and I expect Jax to be beat.

But thanks to the ice cream and the soda and whatever else he snuck the kid when I wasn’t looking Jax is wired.

We turn on Aladdin and Ethan helps him make a pillow fort in the living room, complete with Christmas lights we find in the closet.

Then we all cozy down and watch the movie, us sitting in the back and Jax laying in front of us.

“Cozy?” I tease Ethan as he settles under a dinosaur printed blanket, reaching for his beer.

“Very,” he winks. Then I feel his hand on mine under the blanket.

It’s just a hand. And it’s hidden. But I can’t help but focus on the sparks shooting through my veins at the touch. I find myself hyper aware of it. Of him. Of everything.

The rest of the movie seems to take years but by the end of it, Jax is dozed off and we sneak out and down the hall, closing my bedroom door behind us.

“God, I feel so old,” I yawn, rubbing my neck.

“You’re not old. Not even close.” Ethan comes up behind me, rubbing my neck. “But you are pretty tense. Maybe I can help.”

His hands are large, warm and consuming as they cover my shoulders, working the sore muscles and making the nerves tingle. He slides my hair to one shoulder and I can feel his breath on the other.

“You need to unwind, mama,” he says in a low gruff voice.

“We can’t,” I whisper.

“We can…if you’re quiet.”

When I don’t say anything, Ethan spins me to face him. His dark eyes are deep with possibility and need.

“Do you want me?” He asks.

I nod. Then my eyes go to the door.

“Then you’re going to have to be quiet,” he whispers.

He locks the door and comes back over to me.

His palms cup my cheeks and he kisses me.

His jaw works to part my lips, his tongue pressing into mine, hot and sweet and salty.

I arch my back and my breasts press into his chest, my nipples hard against him.

The aching in my thighs is building hotter and hotter, fuller and fuller, and I think I might explode.

On cue, he leads me to the bed. Then he sets me back and tugs my turquoise leggings off. “Damn these things are like a second skin.”

“I thought men liked leggings. Nothing to the imagination.”

“I like them when you’re wearing them. Not when I want them off. And I don’t want to just use my imagination. I want to use my mouth.”

Jesus. His words are enough to make me come right here and now. Ethan lowers to his haunches in front of me and pulls me towards him. Then he grins up at me. “Remember…shh…”

Before I can protest, he covers my pussy with his mouth. His tongue laps slowly up and down the length of me, from my entrance to the top and back down.

“Oh my god,” I let out.

“Quieter, baby girl…” he warns and I bite my lips hard.

He teases every inch of me, every millimeter, with the tip of his tongue. It’s so pointed, so learned, that he knows which spots make me arch my back, which spots make me shudder, and which spot specifically makes me need to cover my mouth.

“Good girl,” he grins into me, kissing my pussy with his smiling mouth. That’s when I realize he never shaved that five o’clock shadow from the festival. It’s gruff, gristly, tickling the sensitive skin of my thighs.

It’s so many sensations all at once that I feel like holding in my moans is going to make me pass out.

“You okay up there?”

“Fuck you, Savage.” I let out.

“What was that?” He asks, then he brings his mouth to me again, sucking hard while his tongue finds its way under the hood of my clit.

“Fuck….” I trail off before biting my mouth shut again.

“That’s what I thought,” he says and I don’t even have to look down to know he is smiling.

As his tongue picks up speed, I near the edge. “I’m going to come,” I say weakly.

“So come,” he says as he thrusts two fingers inside me. I slap my hand over my mouth and as his tongue works its magic on the outside, his finger curls on the inside and I come undone, stifling a scream in my hand.

Ethan gets off the floor and grins down at me, licking his fingers. I shake my head and he just laughs. “Tell me something. Did he ever fuck you like that?”

I’m confused. “Did who ever fuck me like that?”

“The tool you went to the baseball game with.”

I snort. “No. But would it bother you? Knowing about the men I’ve slept with?” My lips curl playfully. Ethan pulls me against him.

“It’s probably best I don’t know who’s touched you, sweetheart. I’d break their legs.”

I laugh and then cover my mouth. I need to be quiet. My son… our son… is in the other room. Hopefully sleeping. Hopefully hearing nothing. “Jealous much?” I whisper.

“Jealous? No. Jealous would mean I envy those douchebags. I am, however, territorial.”

“Oh? So you own me, do you?”

“Do I need to show you again who you belong to?” Ethan arches an eyebrow, his hand sliding southward.

I grab his wrist to stop him. “No more. I can’t handle anymore.”

He smirks. “And why is that?”

“Because you are the best I’ve ever had. And if I have another orgasm, I won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

“That’s what I thought.”

I lock my eyes on his, my lips tipped with the same smirk as his. “You don’t need to worry about anyone else.”

“Oh trust me, I’m not worried. Just…”

“Possessive,” I say and his eyes sunburst around the edges, his grin pulling even further.

“I like that word.”

With that, we kiss. And even as complicated as it all is, my heart keeps strumming in my chest. And two words play on repeat in my head–

I’m his.

I’m his.

I’m his.