Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“NOOOOOO!” I yell when he comes into view, and my mother bumps into him and stands there with her mouth open. It takes her a minute to register what is going on. Luca is trying to shield me with his naked body, and I’m trying to block his naked ass from view with my legs. It’s a clusterfuck.
“Oh my God,” she says, turning around and stopping my father from coming into the room. “Aiden, come here.”
“Mom, you got mosquito bites again?” Aiden says, coming over, and I put up my hand, but then I hear my father.
“Aiden, let’s go play in the yard,” he says, and Aiden runs away to go to my father.
“You two take your time. We are going to be in the yard,” my mother says.
“Just go, Mom,” I say, dying from the couch. Luca remains on top of me.
“We didn’t see anything,” she says again, and I put my hands on my head.
“Just go,” I say, and then we hear the door close. “Did that just happen?”
“If you mean did your parents and our son catch us banging on the couch?” He now comes out from hiding in my neck, and he looks at me. “That would be a yes.”
“You need to get off me,” I tell him, and I don’t know how he does it, but one knee goes up, a hand wraps around my waist, and he picks us both up. “How are you still in me?” I ask, looking down, and he just shrugs.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to ask this question before we get dressed,” he tells me and then walks upstairs with me. “What are the chances of us finishing?”
I groan. “My parents are outside,” I tell him, and I really want to forget it and just spend an extra five minutes with him. “Zero.”
He gently places me on the bed, and my legs fall from his waist, and he walks away, going to the bathroom. I spring up and follow him, jumping in the shower. “Fuck,” he says from the sink, and I wipe the steam off the glass shower door to look at him. “I don’t have clothes here.”
“What?” I ask him, confused.
“I walked over here in a towel,” he tells me, and I suddenly remember going downstairs to his kitchen to eat something and finding nothing. So we grabbed two towels from outside and snuck into my house through the fence.
“I’ll get dressed and go and get you some clothes.” I close my eyes. “Unless the ground opens up and swallows me,” I say, and the door to the shower opens, causing me to jump back. “What are you doing?”
“I need to take a shower,” he tells me, grabbing the soap and lathering himself with it.
“My parents are outside,” I say, shocked.
“Your mother just saw me in you. I don’t think us taking a shower together is going to change anything,” he says, laughing. I know he’s right, but I shake my head and jump out of the shower. “I didn’t even get to wash your back.” He winks at me, and I glare at him.
“It’s all fun and games when it’s my parents,” I tell him, drying myself off. “Imagine if it was yours.” He closes his eyes. “Exactly.”
“Go get me some clothes, and then we can go and face our audience,” he tells me, and I nod. I rush to my walk-in closet and slip on a pair of panties and a bra throwing on a pair of olive linen shorts and a white T-shirt. I walk downstairs and cringe when I look at the living room; there are cans of whip cream lying on the floor and dried-up chocolate we melted in the microwave and then scalded ourselves with. There is a knock on the door this time, and I yell to come in.
My mother sticks her head in. “Is it safe?” She laughs, and I want to die. Honestly, I have a child, so I know they know I’ve had sex at least once before but to catch me in the act. I raise my hand to my head, the can of whip cream still in it. “Aiden needs to go to the bathroom, and he doesn’t want to just pee in the bushes.”
“It’s fine,” I tell her, and she opens the door, and Aiden comes running in.
“I have to pee, Mom,” he says, going to the bathroom and not closing the door. My mother comes in slowly and looks around the room.
“So did you have a nice date?” she asks, trying not to laugh, and I groan.
“Mom,” Aiden says, coming out of the bathroom. “I’m hungry.” He walks to the fridge and opens it, grabbing a couple of cookies. “We finished all of Nonna’s cookies last night, and Grandpa wouldn’t share any of his.”