Page 37 of Father Knows Best (A Family Affair #1)

twenty-three

. . .

geo

The Honeymoon

I do indeed spend hours on the phone during travel to work out a way for me to be gone, but I get it sorted out.

Travel turns us to mush, and the excitement and anticipation is shelved when we get to our bungalow and immediately lie down on the bed and fall asleep.

Very little sleep the night prior, the rush to get to the airport, and all the travel keeps us motionlessly asleep on the bed for several hours, and I’m the first to wake.

It’s dark out, the reflection of the moon on the water glowing behind the half-pulled curtains in our room.

I slowly get to my feet, careful not to disturb Avery and Sutton, who are still sleeping.

I tug the curtain back and take in the effervescent blue water, the moon casting an ethereal shine over our bungalow, and the other bungalows surrounding ours.

The water ripples quietly, and a gentle breeze lifts, curling against my face, tossing my hair back just a bit.

It’s beautiful here, and the perfect place for a honeymoon.

Guilt.

It never left but it rears its head inside me again.

Should I be here? This is a beautiful bungalow over the water, beneath the moonlight.

And the days will be spent with cold water licking every curve of Avery’s body, her feet in the sand, her supple body strewn over this mattress at night.

I turn away from the window to discover Sutton waking up, and Avery stirring, too.

Her hair is stuck to her cheek when she sits up, and her eyes are tired.

“I’m gonna catch a shower, unless you’d like to shower first?

” Sutton asks Avery. She shakes her head, and repositions herself in the middle of the bed, her head resting against the wall.

Sutton grabs a few items from his bag and slips into the bathroom, made private by the use of a small pocket door.

I slide my hands in my pockets and tip my head toward the door.

“You don’t want to join him?” I ask, a sliver of awkwardness wiggling down my spine.

Embarking on this with them both here and back at home, when I move into their place, surely means lots of these awkward moments.

I’m trading those moments for time with her, and it’s a fair trade.

She smiles, and despite the day of travel resting on all of our shoulders, Avery still looks beautiful. Her smile makes me smile, too. “I always want to join him,” she says, finger combing a few strands of hair. “But Sutton likes his privacy.”

I nod my head. “That’s right.”

She smirks. “Are you surprised by his modesty?”

I shake my head. “Not really. He was always very private as a kid. Expected everyone else to be private, too. That’s just his way.”

“His style,” she reframes, and I nod my head, because I like the way that sounds a lot better.

“To each their own.”

She pulls the sheet over her bare legs, then pats the mattress next to her. I take a seat and peer down at her. “Kind of weird how fast things changed between us, right?” she asks quietly, and I sink into the pillows further, tipping my head comfortably against hers.

“Yeah, it is.” I move my arm, draping it over her thigh, letting my hand rest over her knee. I smooth my fingers over the soft, shaved skin. “Can I ask you something?”

She catches my hand on her knee and weaves our fingers together. My heart beat picks up.

Holding hands is so much more personal than so many forms of sex. It’s intimate and private, but out in the open, too. My chest erupts in pebbled skin, and the back of my neck grows hot. “Ask away,” she says, admiring our hands together.

“When you decide you have your fill of this, and you’ve sated your needs beyond reasonable doubt, will you please make sure you tell me?

Don’t humor me. Don’t either of you ever do anything for me.

This is for the two of you, so when you’re ready to end it and return to our traditional roles, please just…

tell me, okay? I promise you both that we can do that. Return to what it was.”

My chest burns as the words leave me. I need to know that when she’s done, we end this and return to our prior dynamic, that we all have something left to return to.

She opens her hand, breaking our connection, using the tip of her pointer finger to trace lines on my palm. “Who says there’s an end and not a new beginning?”

The pocket door slides open, and Sutton, along with a cloud of steam, steps out. He glances over at us, and Avery doesn’t pull her hand away or seem startled whatsoever. She continues to stroke her finger over my palm, casually, as she takes in Sutton, wearing sleep pants and nothing else.

“What if we order some champagne and steaks and spend the first evening in? Catching up on rest?” she asks, looking between us. Sutton rakes a hand through his hair, sighing. “Sounds good to me. That shower was good but… hell, I’m exhausted.”

Avery and I trade off showers after that, and when I’m out, I join them on the bed, Avery in the center. She passes me a champagne flute, and I take a drink, eyeing the domed plates that were delivered while I was showering. “How was the steak?” I ask them, sipping my drink.

She shakes her head. “I don’t know. We were waiting for you.”

Sutton gets to his feet and rolls the cart to the bed, dragging two chairs with him. He positions them around the small cart, and I get off the bed, taking a seat in the chair facing the bed, assuming Sutton and I will take the uncomfortable chairs and let Avery sit on the edge.

She stands next to us, and Sutton takes the chair I assumed he’d take. He nods to the bed. “I’ll cut your steak, have a seat.”

She rolls her lips together, and her eyes slide to mine. Immediately, I know something more is on her mind.

“What do you need, Avery?” I ask, discovering that those are my favorite five words.

“I was thinking,” she says, without preamble or hesitation, which is sexy as hell. “Maybe you could plug me before we eat, just for fun?”

Sutton is motionless at the table, his hands in his lap as he looks between us. It’s still surreal the trust he extends to me, and because of that, I nod my head. “Okay.”

She returns with the toy and the lube, then drops her terry robe.

The white fabric at her feet is nearly dizzying, and I take my time letting my eyes roam over her naked body.

Plucky, darkened nipples, her breasts a perfect handful, her pussy already pink, the lips puffy and swollen— “Avery,” I sigh, holding her by one hip as I survey the beauty laid out before me. “You are just too beautiful.”

She smiles at me.

“He’s right. You’re perfect,” Sutton adds.

She hands me the items and I pump my hand full of lube, rolling the plug in my palm.

Her eyes lock onto mine, and desire burns down my spine.

“Turn around,” I say quietly, my cock already throbbing, anticipating her tight little hole, the smooth globes of her perfect ass, seeing her delicate hands hold herself open for me. Fuck.

She does, bending slightly at the waist. Her baby pink fingernails make me groan as she reaches behind herself, filling her own palms with her cheeks, pulling herself apart.

Her hole blinks and I groan, remembering the vice grip of her ass around my cock.

Sex hasn’t felt that way–blindingly intense and beautiful–in years.

“Are you ready?” I ask, sliding one of my hands over hers, bracing it there.

Sutton leans over, and collects her chin in his grip, making her face him. “Look at me while you take it from him.”

My skin heats, and bumps erupt over every creamy inch of Avery’s flesh. She nods her head, whispering, “Yes, Sutt.”

Aligning the narrowed end with her body, I move the plug in a circular motion gently, easing it in.

She gasps as her ass seals around the toy, accepting it into her body.

Sutton kisses her lips while she groans, struggling to adjust to the intrusion.

A moment later, after I’ve washed, we’re tucked under the table, sipping champagne and eating steak.

Avery eats in the nude.

I have an erection the size of my forearm the entire time.

After, she crawls onto the bed, splayed out across her back.

“What do you want tonight, my dear?” my son asks his wife, who is now seductively stroking her lean fingers over her bare belly.

I would love to see my cum splashed there.

I would love to see my cum painting any and every part of Avery Mercer.

Mercer.

The fact she shares my last name and has invited me into her body doesn’t escape me.

“I want Geo inside me, from behind. I want to feel the pressure of being plugged and fucked at the same time.” She holds her husband's eyes, and at first I think a private communication passes between them, but then, as I too look at my son, I realize it’s something else.

She’s giving him an opportunity to step in, to change his mind, to tell her and me, too, that he can’t do this. Except he only nods and asks, “And where do you want me?”

She nods to the chair in the corner that looks nothing like the chair in the hotel last night, but when I look at it, my skin breaks out in a cool sheen of sweat all the same. I have to remind myself that Sutton and Avery both want this, that I’m not forcing anyone.

But as my son sits in the chair, his knees spread, hands on the armrest, and I position myself behind Avery on the bed, I feel like I’m winning so large, so grand, that I’m taking away from him.

I peer over the smooth curve of Avery’s shoulder, and bring my lips to her ear. “Are you both ready?” I ask her, wanting her to pass the question to Sutton, which she does. He nods, and she turns back, reaching behind her.

Sutton pulls the chair up to the edge of the bed, and tips his head sideways, aligning his vision with Avery’s. “Tell me when he’s inside of you all the way,” he says to her, stroking his fingers over the apple of her cheek.