Page 24

Stevie

We spend the kids’ last full day in L.A. together…as a family. They love being in the pool, so that’s where we spend most of our time. Afterward, we give everyone a bath and then take them to Casa del Papaya for dinner, where Martin spends about a hundred dollars at the claw machine so he can get the stuffed toy pony he desperately wanted.

And then, after hugs, kisses, and reading them about a dozen stories, I go home. Not because Marty doesn’t want me to stay but because we both think it will be easier on the kids if I’m not there when Brenna arrives in the morning. Emma has become extremely attached to me, and Bradley only seems to want his dad, so neither of us want there to be another scene like the one in the kitchen five days ago.

I’m feeling pretty melancholy when I walk into the house, but there are multiple cars in the driveway, which means Chey and Ivan are entertaining. I’d been enjoying having the house to myself, reinforcing the idea that I need to get off my ass and find a place of my own, but in the meantime, I force myself to smile. I hope it’s not anyone I know, but of course, it is.

“Hey, Stevie!” Chey calls out. “I didn’t think you’d be home tonight but come join us. We’re just having some wine.”

I hesitate, but it’s Canyon and Saylor and Jensen Bang and his fiancée, Bailey Walker. Saylor is one of my besties, and Bailey is an actress I’ve gotten close to since moving to L.A. It would be rude to say I don’t feel like socializing and just go up to my room, so I put down my purse and join them in the family room.

“Where’s Marty?” Ivan asks.

I sigh. “Today was his last day with the kids. Brenna’s picking them up in the morning, and I decided not to sleep over. She didn’t seem happy to see me last time we crossed paths.”

“Wait—you and Marty?” Bailey grins. “You’ve been holding out on us, girlfriend!”

“I knew,” Chey quips, “but it wasn’t my place to tell.”

“How come I didn’t know?” Saylor demands, laughing.

“It’s new,” I say gently. “We’ve been feeling things out, trying to see how things go. We both have a lot going on so we’re staying under the radar as we find our footing.”

“Marty’s such a great guy,” Saylor says softly. “You guys make a wonderful couple.”

“He is pretty great,” I agree. “And the kids are so sweet.”

“How’s Marty doing with regard to the kids leaving?” Ivan asks.

“He’s okay now, but I’m sure tomorrow will be hard on him.”

“We should get together,” Chey says automatically. “Maybe go out somewhere, get his mind off things.”

“That would be nice,” I say. “He’s really worried about the custody hearing.”

“We’ve all got his back,” Ivan says firmly. “Whatever he needs.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.”

“What about you?” Bailey asks. “Do you have any work coming up?”

“I’m trying to keep my schedule simple until we know the date of Damien’s trial,” I admit.

“You don’t have a date yet?” Saylor asks. “I really want to be there for you, but my schedule is going to be super busy now after taking most of the summer off.”

I nod. “I know. It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” She shakes her head. “I know you don’t want to be there alone.”

“I’ll be there regardless,” Chey says. “So she won’t be alone.”

“I don’t start preproduction on my movie until November,” Bailey says, “so I can be there if it’s before that…”

“I appreciate you guys,” I say softly. “But there’s nothing we can do. You can’t all put your lives on hold waiting for a trial date. We’ll see what happens.”

Everyone is quiet for a minute.

“Well.” Chey gets up. “Time to open another bottle of wine. Join us for a glass, Stevie?”

“Sure.” I get up and follow her to the kitchen, grabbing a wine glass from the shelf as she uncorks another bottle.

“How are you really?” she asks softly. “This thing with Marty more serious than you’re letting on?”

“How can it not be?” I ask. “I mean, he’s wonderful. The type of guy I didn’t think existed. And we’ve been…a family. With his kids, at his house—I’m starting to fall, Chey, and I’m terrified.”

She smiles. “He’s a good guy. Don’t be afraid.”

“Do you know me?” I ask wryly. “When have I ever been in a healthy relationship?”

“Now,” she says pointedly. “You’re starting right now. He’s a good man. A good friend, teammate—according to Ivan—and father. What more could you ask for?”

“He believes he was a shitty husband.”

She shrugs. “I’m sure he made mistakes, but he didn’t cheat. He didn’t hit her or abuse her emotionally. Maybe he was a little self-absorbed. We’ll never know because we weren’t inside the marriage, but at his core, he’s the type of guy you need. Don’t make him suffer because of the way other men treated you. This is your fresh start, remember?”

Chey’s been to enough therapy sessions with me to know that’s my mantra.

“I know.” I take a sip of wine. “Do me a favor, will you?”

“Of course.”

“Make sure I don’t do anything stupid to fuck it up.”

* * *

As expected, Marty is quiet and subdued when I get to the house the next day.

But I’m prepared for that.

“I have a surprise for you,” I whisper after we’ve said hello.

He cocks his head slightly. “Oh?”

I pull my sundress over my head and let it fall to the floor.

All I have on beneath is a tiny pair of bikini panties—that tie at the sides with pink velvet ribbons.

His eyes darken immediately as he rakes his eyes up and down my body, and I see the erection forming behind his khaki shorts.

“Jesus,” he breathes.

“I was thinking you should take these off with your teeth,” I say in a raspy whisper. “But first…there’s something else I want to do.” I drop to my knees in front of him and nuzzle his crotch. We’ve had a decent amount of sex since we became intimate, but it’s been mostly quick, late at night, after we’re both tired. I wouldn’t call it boring, not in the least, but somewhat subdued because of timing and the proximity of the children.

That ends now.

I miss the kids too.

Their absence does have its perks, though.

I run my fingers over his crotch, rubbing against his erection, and I feel his moan.

“Fuck, Stevie…”

I take my time, unbuttoning his shorts and then slowly unzipping them. Instead of pushing them down over his hips, I gently touch and caress, enjoying the sounds of pleasure he’s making.

There’s something primal and sexy about being on my knees in front of him, and when I tug his boxers down along with his shorts, I sigh happily. He’s hard as stone, standing straight and proud, just waiting for me to touch him.

So I don’t.

At least, not right away.

Instead, I stare, a faint smile on my lips.

“I really like looking at it,” I say quietly. “I love the fact that I’ve barely touched you and you’re hard for me.”

Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, a memory drifts through my subconscious. Damien telling me how inept I am sexually. Me spending twenty minutes on my knees just trying to give him an erection. In retrospect, I now know it was because of all the cocaine he used to do, but I didn’t know that then.

It grated on my nerves and my self-esteem because what guy doesn’t get hard when a woman he’s supposedly in love with sucks his dick?

Except he wasn’t in love with me, not really, and his drug use had nothing to do with me.

The dynamic with Marty is totally different.

I barely have to do anything to turn him on and he wants me all the time.

Like right now.

I trail my fingers along his shaft, lightly scratching my nails on the soft skin, and he hisses.

“Did I hurt you?” I ask quietly.

He shakes his head. “No. You’re just torturing me.”

I smile playfully. “Oops.”

Wrapping one hand around him, I stroke up and down, with steady pressure, watching his face to measure his level of comfort. I sense he likes it a little rough—despite how gentle he’s always been with me—and I’m ready to take things to the next level in that department.

With one hand around his cock and the other lightly squeezing his balls, I lean forward and nibble the head.

“Yum,” I whisper, tasting the salty pre-cum seeping from the tip.

He digs a hand into my hair, tugging until I lift my gaze to his.

“Look at me when you suck my cock.”

The space between my legs gets damp at the tone of his voice.

I’ve never been a fan of being dominated, but that’s not what this is.

This is hot.

Sexy.

Marty .

I kiss a trail along the underside of his shaft, pausing to lick and suck at the skin, before wrapping my lips around him. I suck hard and hear his sharp intake of breath. He likes that.

So I do it again, sucking hard and then backing off, keeping him on edge.

“God damn, baby, that’s so good.”

I open my mouth wider, take him a little deeper, and work the rest of his shaft with my hand. Saliva drips from my mouth but that just makes my job easier, and my head bobs in time to his light thrusts.

“Fuck, Stevie…” His grip on my hair tightens and he starts moving faster, effectively fucking my mouth, and all I can do is hang on.

He picks up speed, hitting the back of my throat, and a guttural roar leaves him as he shoots off.

“Fuck!” He’s still pulsing inside my mouth, and I swallow every drop, continuing to suck until he’s drained.

“I’m taking you to bed now,” he growls.

Then he picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder.