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Walking was important, Vimes had always said, and because Vimes said it Carrot believed it. Walking and talking. Walk far enough and talk to enough people and sooner or later you had an answer.
Notes: ...Four parts it's going to be four parts I'M SORRY
Length: 5.2K
Warnings: Angst; fluff; explicit sexual content: vaginal sex; fingering; oral sex; unprotected sex; semi-public sex
Summary: What was the standard operating procedure when you slept with your ex-husband?Â
It had taken a lot of practice, but youâd learned over the course of your divorce not to ask questions that you didnât want to know the answers to. You didnât ask Borracho if he and Jessa had gone out. When Alyssa asked her within earshot of you during practice, you did your best not to listen, but you couldnât help but catch on the words,Â
âNice,â and ânot sure,â and ânext Friday.â
Next Friday? Borracho had been taking Olivia on Friday for months. He hadnât asked you to take her for the evening yet. Was he going to get a babysitter? What was the point of wasting money like that just to keep you out of it? You didnât have any plans next Friday, you could take her, no problem.Â
Your mind started combing through ways to bring it up, some subtle tactic to hint that it wouldnât be an imposition. What if something happened and Borracho got called into work? Would he call you after that to ask you to take Olivia for the night? Fork out a fortune on overtime for that poor babysitter? And what if they couldnât stay latteâ?Â
âSo I was thinking of putting Olivia on first base next weekendââÂ
âIâm free on Friday!â
It left you before you could think about it. Borracho didnât answer for a moment. He blinked at you, his pen hovering over the notes on his clipboard. You cleared your throat, tightening your arms around your chest as you looked around. âI mean, umâFirst base is good, she likes first base.âÂ
â...Yeah, I remember. You said.âÂ
âYeah. SoâGood. Good choice.âÂ
âOkay. Maybe stay out of Alyssaâs thermos of special juice, huh?âÂ
You couldnât bring yourself to tease back, just offering a small smile as you refocused on the field. It took a moment longer than it shouldâve for Borracho to walk away, but that was fine enough for youâyou were already stewing in your idiocy. The hell had you been thinking, blurting it out that way?
Well, whatever. The door was open now, Borracho knew you would be free on Friday. It was up to him to ask you to look after Olivia now. The ball was firmly in his court, and he knew what to do with it.Â
He would ask. He would cave. He just needed a couple of days, thatâs all. You knew Ben, and the way he operated. He needed to come around to an idea himself. Of course, it may take a little longer because youâd blurted it out so stupidly. You could just hope his pride wasnât wounded, or that he went out of his way to move the date.Â
No. No, he would ask. Youâd hear from him by Wednesday.Â
--Â
You couldnât answer too quickly. Third ring, you decided. You wanted him to squirm a little.Â
Well, maybe it was rude, but he deserved it! Leaving it until 5 oâclock on Friday to ask you to look after Oliviaâit was short-sighted of him. Or had it been his pride? Maybe telling him that you were free had been a bridge too far. That was Ben, though: ridiculous, stubborn, absolutely maddeningâ
Shit, it went to voicemail.Â
You swiped open the missed call notification, hurriedly calling him back. You raised the phone to your ear, listening to the steady burrrrrâŠburrrrrrrâŠWas he leaving a message, orâ
âHey, there you are.â
You rolled your eyes. There you were. The nerve of him.Â
âYeah, sorry,â You leaned back against the couch, propping your head up on your hand. âI was umâI didnât hear my phone ringing until the last second. Whatâs up?âÂ
Whatâs up, that was good. It didnât indicate that you knew exactly why he was calling, or that you were annoyed that heâd taken so damn long.Â
âYou still free tonight?âÂ
âUhâŠâ You glanced around. âSure, why?âÂ
âYou wanna do something?âÂ
Your mouth opened, a half-scold, half-tease sitting on your tongue, but you froze. Do something? What had happened to his date? Did he cancel? Did Jessa?Â
âUmâŠâ You cleared your throat. âDo something likeâI mean, what would we, uhâWhatâs the plan?âÂ
âNo plan, just. Dinner, I guess?âÂ
âSure. Are you letting Olivia pick?â You couldnât just not ask about her anymore.Â
âLivâs at a sleepover at Amandaâs. From her class?â
Amanda, of course. Youâd completely forgotten about the sleepover.Â
âDinner sounds good. You wanna come over here or should I go over there?âÂ
âI was thinking weâd go out someplace.âÂ
He was thinking? Since when?Â
âI can pick you up,â He added. âSeven alright?âÂ
What was happening? What parallel universe had you fallen into where this man was making (albeit last-minute) dinner plans and offering to pick you up?Â
âSure,â You managed, âI can umâYeah. Seven sounds good.âÂ
âOkay. Iâll see you then.âÂ
âSee you.âÂ
You pulled the phone back from your face, watching the call blink away before it disappeared, leaving your lock screen of Olivia in her little league uniform. 5:02pm. You had time to get ready, and a helluva lot of questions to mull over as you did.Â
--Â
It felt so foreign and strange to be out with Borracho and having such a good time. Maybe that was unfair to both of youâyouâd been relating to one another as adults, not just as parents for the last couple of months. And for as badly as youâd wanted to ask about Jessa, you didnât find a chance to bring it up.Â
This evening had you noticing a lot of things that seemed to have gone by the wayside over the course of your marriage. There was a lightness to the two of you, a teasing, warm energy that you had missed on the dates you'd been on recently.
--Â
âWhatâd you get?âÂ
âCinnamon.â
âGimme some.âÂ
âNo!â You laughed, pulling your ice cream cup out of the reach of his questing spoon as you slid down in the passenger seat of his car. âYou shouldâve gotten your own scoop of cinnamon ice cream.âÂ
âChocolate and cinnamon donât go.âÂ
âWell thatâs bullshit and we both know it.â
âSwear jar.âÂ
âIâll take it off your monthly.âÂ
âGenerous of you.âÂ
The two of you ate your ice cream in silence for a few moments, nothing filling the car but the scrape of your plastic spoons against the little paper cups.Â
â...Ben?âÂ
âIâm not sharing, either.âÂ
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head.Â
âNever mind.âÂ
âWas that it?âÂ
âNo.âÂ
âSo?âÂ
âI said, never mind.âÂ
You felt Borracho turn his head to look at you, and realized that the scrrrrrrrape of the spoon against the cup had stopped on his side of the car.Â
âWhatâs up?âÂ
âNo, nothingâŠThis is nice, thatâs all.â It felt dangerous to say, like acknowledging the thing might break it. Butâ
âYeah,â He agreed quietly. âIt is.âÂ
âCan I, um.âÂ
âYeah?âÂ
âYou didnât have anything else going on tonight?âÂ
You heard Borracho shift in his seat, swirl his spoon around in his ice cream.Â
âNo.â
You didnât believe that for a second. âReally?â
âI didnât.âÂ
âYou werenât supposed to see Jessa?âÂ
âNo.âÂ
You turned your head finally, taking Borracho in closely. You knew him wellâyou knew the way his face pinched up and closed off when he was lying to you. But his expression was smooth and honest as he turned to meet your eye. You considered for a moment before you nodded, looking back down at your ice cream.Â
âYou like her?â You prodded.
âTalking about this doesnât bother you?âÂ
âNo. Why should it?âÂ
âThen why arenât you looking at me?âÂ
âBecause I like this shirt and I donât wanna get any ice cream on it.â It was a lame excuse, but you stuck to your guns, pointedly stabbing at a melting lump of cinnamon swirl and raising it to your mouth. Some of it dribbled off of the spoon, and before you could clean it off, Borrachoâs thumb swiped across your lower lip. You eyed the smear of it and watched as Borracho drew it back to himself, sucking it off of his thumb. Heat rushed your face, and you turned to look through the windshield, swallowing thickly.Â
âNot bad.âÂ
âSee?â You finally managed. âTold you cinnamon and chocolate go.âÂ
âWhat about you?âÂ
âHm?â
âNo date planned tonight? You takinâ a break from the apps again?â
Yes.Â
âNo,â You sniffed. âJustâŠDidnât have one tonight.âÂ
âMeet anyone you like lately?â
Just you.Â
âA couple,â You fibbed.Â
âYouâre dating couples now?âÂ
âNo, I mean I went on a couple ofâOhââ You spluttered, whacking Benâs shoulder as he cracked up. âIâm gonna drip some of my ice cream on this seat and then weâll see whoâs laughing.âÂ
--Â
âThanks for dinner.âÂ
âSure.âÂ
âAnd the ice cream.âÂ
âYeah.â Borracho leaned back against the car, hands tucking into his pockets. You shifted from foot to foot. You could just go insideâyou should just go inside, but you had hardly been able to pull yourself away from Borracho since he first picked you up. Youâd realized when heâd opened your car door for you that it felt like it had at the beginning, when youâd first been together.Â
âIâll get Olivia from Amandaâs in the morning and drop her off,â Borracho offered.Â
âYeah, no, that sounds good. You could get breakfast, if you want, I mean. Take your time. I donât have much going on tomorrow. Wide open, so, no, uhâNo drop-off time or anything to worry about.âÂ
âCool.âÂ
What was it about finding yourselves on your doorstep that had cut the eveningâs ease dead? Go inside. Go inside so he can drive away, so he can go home, so he can go to bed and be ready to pick Olivia up in the morningâ
âDo you want to come in for a drink?âÂ
It was a quiet, heart-stopping moment of quiet between you before Borracho swiped his tongue across his lip, glancing around.Â
âI donât know if thatâs a good idea.âÂ
Oh. Shit.Â
âNo, sure,â You shook your head, taking a couple steps back. Fuck, that was embarrassing. You could keep it together until you were alone.Â
âI didnât meanââÂ
âIâll see you tomorrow.âÂ
âHang on, câmere.â Borracho reached out, gently grasping your hand and drawing you in again. You moved slowly, dragging your feet a little as you focused on his chest. âI donât mean it like that.âÂ
âI didnât think you meant it like anything.âÂ
âLook at me.âÂ
âYou should goââÂ
Borracho lifted his other hand cupping your cheek and tipping your face toward his. Your breath caught in your throat, eyes sweeping across his face as his thumb swept gently against your skin.Â
âI want to come in.âÂ
âThen come in. Why are you making it so complicated?â You hissed.
âThis doesnât feel complicated to you?âÂ
âWe went to dinner, Ben.âÂ
âI know.âÂ
âWhich was your idea, by the way, I donât know if you remember that?âÂ
âI remember.âÂ
âSoâSo come in or donât, do whatever you want, you always do whatever the fuck you wantââ
You hardly got it all out before you felt the warmth and weight of his lips pressing against yours. You went still with surprise, eyes wide-open and watching as he melted into you. His hand smoothed down to your neck as you chased the kiss. You leaned into him, letting your eyes close as your hands curled in the fabric of his shirt.Â
Why did he bother to argue with you about coming in if he was going to stand outside and do this?Â
Benâs tongue teased the seam of your lips and you parted them with a hungry moan, pressing your body against his as he curled his arm around your waist. You drew back just enough to get a good look at him, to see the way he drew his lower lip between his teeth, to hear him draw in a deep breath.Â
Was he panicking? Was he as surprised as you were that heâd done what heâd done? Was he waiting for you to tell him to fuck off? Or was he envisioning a large, flashing, neon sign over your head that said, BAD IDEA!Â
You pressed as close as you could, leaning up and brushing your lips against his jaw.Â
âCome inside, Ben,â You breathed. âPlease come inside.âÂ
--
Toward the end of your relationship, when the love had gone and touch had become perfunctory, youâd been certain that whatever your sex life had once been was canned. Sometimes, for its speed and mechanical nature, youâd almost wondered how youâd ever managed to make Olivia.Â
And you didn't expect it to be like that again from the way heâd kissed you outsideânot quite as mechanical or routine.Â
You hardly separated from one another as youâd fumbled to lock the door before letting him steer you down the hall. Benâs hands were everywhereâguiding you by hips; cushioning your head to keep it from thudding against the wall as the two of you came to a brief halt in the hall, his lips drifting from your lips just long enough to trail along your neck; teasing beneath the hem of your shirt before dipping to swipe beneath the band of your jeans.Â
Your knees hit the edge of the storage bin at the base of your bed and you wobbled, letting go of him to reach back and steady yourself against the mattress. You scooched back, face going warm as you watched Borracho reach down, tugging his shirt up and over his head. You didnât bother to hide your open appraisal of his muscled body.Â
Ben had always been in good shape when you were together, and youâd caught the odd flash of it a time or two at little league practiceâwhen he stretched further or jumped to catch a pitch or throw that had gone higher than planned or expected; when he lifted the hem of his shirt to swipe at a bead of sweat slipping down the side of his face. But those little glimpses were all accidental, and fleeting, and thisâŠThis was something that you were going to file away for your lonely evenings.Â
Your eyes swept up to his face as he kicked his shoes off and crawled onto the bed, his hands bracing on either side of your head.Â
âYour turn.âÂ
You tipped your head to the side, brows raising.Â
âIâm not going to get up and flex, Ben.âÂ
âThat was not flexing.âÂ
âPretty sure your pecs were winking at me.âÂ
âMaybe we should slow down. I think youâre seeing things.âÂ
âSo far,â You slid your hand down, palming his hardening cock through his pants, and grinning as he groaned, head tipping forward, âI donât think Iâve seen enough.âÂ
Borracho tipped his chin to catch your lips in a heated kiss, slipping his hand up under your shirt and easing it higher. You squirmed, pushing yourself up just enough to help him tug it off. You didnât see where he threw it, already preoccupied with twisting to reach for the light, butâ
âLeave it on.â Ben crushed up against your back, catching hold of your hand and intertwining your fingers. âI wanna see you.â
You shivered as his kisses trailed across your shoulders, his free hand making short work of your bra. You shrugged the straps down, letting it fall to the bed and arching back against Borracho. His lips and fingers trailed lower, and you shivered as his hand dipped into your pants. Damnit, why hadnât you worn cuter underwear? He couldnât see them yet, but he could surely feel the granny panties that youâd put on earlier.Â
The first swipe of his rough fingertips against your clit made you bite your lip to halt an embarrassing, desperate moan.Â
âCâmon,â Ben groaned against your skin. âYou can do better than that.â
âMaybe Iâm not the one that needs to do better.âÂ
The goad was out of your mouth before you could stop it, and the next thing you knew, you were shoved onto your back, staring at the ceiling. You watched, stunned, as Borracho unbuttoned your pants, tugging them (and your granny panties) down over your ankles. You had been joking, but it had seemed to light a fire in him that you hadnât seen in a long time. He spread your legs with his broad shoulders, smoothing his hands up your inner thighs. You didnât even have a chance to feel embarrassment before Ben is lapping broadly across your pussy.Â
You let your head fall back against the pillows as his fingertips curled into the meat of your thighs. He moaned against your skin, sucking slick kisses against your pussy. You slid your hands into his hair, toes curling in your sheets as he firmly flicked his tongue across your clit. You gave his hair a tug, whimpering as you felt him growl against you.Â
âForgot how good you taste,â He murmured.Â
âForgot how good you are at this,â You laughed shakily.Â
Ben hummed, sliding his fingers up to tease at your aching opening. He tutted softly as you tipped your hips down into his touch.Â
âWhenâs the last time someone took careâa you, huh?â He asked, easing two fingers into your pulsing cunt. You donât answerâyou canât. You just push your hips hungrily down into him.Â
âMustâa been a while,â He went on, âLook at youâFucking dripping for me.âÂ
âBen.âÂ
âI know,â He cooed, curling and spearing his fingers. And he must know, because his movements are so precious, so sureâas if the two of you were together just days ago, not years. âThatâs itâŠFuck, I missedââÂ
He groaned, giving your clit a swift suck. You pulled in a shocked breath, shuddering and shaking as you came suddenly. Your feet shoved at the sheets as your hips tipped up into his hand. Goddamn, you couldnât remember the last time you came so fucking fast for anyone, Ben included. He drew his hand back, and you watched dazedly as he raised his fingers to his lips, sucking the taste of you from them.Â
âCondom?â He asked.Â
âIn the drawer,â You nodded toward the nightstand. Ben knelt over you to fish through the door as you took hold of his belt, undoing the buckle before turning to the fastenings as you heard the drawer open.Â
âQuite the stockpile in here..." You heard. âWhatâs this?âÂ
You tipped your head to the side, warmth washing over your face and neck as you spotted Ben holding up your vibrator.Â
âThe competition.â
âDifferent color than the last one."
âSame model, though.âÂ
âYeah?â
âCan we get back to matters at hand, please?â You whined, pushing the waistband of his pants down. Ben leaned back, setting the condom down on the bed beside you before climbing off of the bed to remove them completely. You scooched over on the bed, steadying one hand on his hip and taking hold of his cock with the other. You stroked him a few times before leaning in, lapping at the pearl of precum beading at the tip.
Ben moaned softly, and you watched as his eyes slipped shut, his tongue sweeping across his lips. You turned your head, lapping across your palm and taking him in hand before you scooch forward, pressing a kiss to his hip. The kiss is chased by a nip, then a suck, then a lick before you lean away, eyeing the bright red mark left behind.Â
âLay back,â Borracho ordered, giving your shoulder a gentle push. You scooched back, smiling as he caught your chin in his hand, tipping your head up for a sweeping kiss. You watched as he picked the condom up from where heâd left it and ripping the packet open with his teeth. Your stomach flipped as he rolled it down over his lengthâgod where did that come from?Â
You could still stop. You could still tell Ben that you had changed your mindâhad you changed your mind? Were these butterflies nerves or anticipation?Â
But as Ben teased the head of his cock against your pussy, you knew it was anticipation. You slid your hands up his arms, fingers curling around the swell of his bicep, nails digging in as he eased into you. Your shared moans filled the room as he curled over you, his forehead resting against yours as your eyelashes fluttered shut. Neither of you hurried the other along, you just waited, and feltâthe weight and warmth of him on you, in you, lips and breath brushing one anotherâs as you each adjusted, and remembered.Â
And when he did move, if he had a problem with the marks that you laid on his shoulder and chest, he didnât say a thing about it.
And when he did move, if you heard his bitten off swears, his murmurs of, âMissed this,â you didnât say a thing about it.Â
--Â Â
The regret shouldâve been instant. The moment you woke up wrapped in that manâs arms, feeling the rough brush of his cheek as he peppered your shoulders with kisses, that shouldâve been it. There shouldâve been a sinking sensation in your stomach, two eye blinks before you were hit with absolute clarity that the two of you had done something supremely stupid.Â
Instead, you rolled over in Benâs arms and caught his lips with yours. He hummed against them, sliding a hand down to palm your ass and pull you closer.Â
âTime is it?â You mumbled.Â
âWho cares?âÂ
âYou have to pick up Liv.âÂ
âWe got time.âÂ
âHow much time?â
âJust relax.âÂ
âIâm relaxed, Iâm just making sure youâre not late to pick her up.âÂ
Borracho groaned, rolling onto his back and lifting his hands to scrub at his eyes.Â
âWhy did I think that last night wouldâve mellowed you out a bit?â
âIn the whole time youâve known me, when have I ever been mellow?â
âNot often.â Borracho tipped his head to the side to look at you, a tender smile curling his lips.
Andâoh, god, did the regret hit you like a freight train then. The man had no right to look at you like that, and hadnât had it for a long time.
You managed a tight smile before you hurriedly pushed yourself up.
What were you supposed to do? Cuddle up? Jump all the way out of bed and shoo him out? Make him coffee and offer him toast (to be eaten hastily in the front hall, because there was no way heâd eat something so crumbly in his car)?Â
What was the standard operating procedure when you slept with your ex-husband?Â
âHey.â You could hear his frown. âWhereâre you goinâ?âÂ
âGonna make some coffee.â You leaned over, grabbing your sleep shirt from where it was hanging over the edge of the hamper and dropping your bedsheets just enough to pull it on. âWant some?â
--Â
Your hands moved on autopilot as you measured out the coffee grinds and filled the water reservoir. You could hear Borracho in your bathroom, the hush of the shower just on the edge of your focus. Your mind filled with sinful imagesâBenâs hands scrubbing soap across his pecs, over the hickies that were no doubt blooming on his skin. Oh, god. Where had you left them? His chest? His hip? His thigh?Â
You scrubbed your hands over your rapidly heading neck, puffing a stressy breath out through your nose. God, not now. Get the man out the door before you start combing through the nightâs events.Â
Toast, you could make toast. Once the coffee was made, that would occupy your hands. You wouldnât be able to reach out andâ
The creaking of the floor behind you pulled you from your disarrayed thoughts. Â
âYou hungry?âYou asked. âI mean, I know youâre heading outââ That was good, reinforce that, lead him out kindly, âAnd youâre probably going to get breakfast with Liv.âÂ
âCoffeeâs fine.âÂ
âOkay.âÂ
âMugs in the usual place?âÂ
âYeah, but IâllââÂ
âI got âem.âÂ
You set your eyes on the coffee maker, eyeing the steadily filling pot as Borrachoâs arms came into view, reaching for the cabinet. Your gaze swept up over the expanse of skin, traveling up over the tight slip of his bicep and landing on the bright red mark marring his left shoulder. Oh. Shit. And why the hell had he slung his shirt over his shoulder instead of putting it on?Â
Borracho set two mugs down, glancing at the mark before reaching for the coffee pot.Â
âThanks for avoiding my neck.â
âSure,â You nodded dazedly. âOld habits.âÂ
Borracho grunted, nudging a mug toward you as he took up his own. The two of you sipped quietly for a few moments, nearly hip to hip as the coffee maker ceased its burbling.Â
âYou wanna join us for breakfast? I can grab Liv and we can come pick you up,â He offered. âGive you time to get ready.âÂ
You should cut it dead there, you knew that.Â
But Olivia always seemed to have such a good time when the three of you were together.
Still, after the night youâd had, could you really sit through breakfast without spending the entire meal in your head? And what about after breakfast? What if you were looping into going to the park with them againâ?Â
You cleared your throat, glancing down the hall.Â
âI should probably get back to the bathroom remodel.âÂ
Borracho nodded a little, peering into his mug.Â
âAnything I can help with?âÂ
âOhâNo. Iâm just gonna paint today, I think.â
âI can help tape. I know you hate getting the corners.âÂ
âNo, really, itâs fine. I donât wanna cut into your time with Liv.âÂ
Borracho tossed back the rest of his coffee before gritting out, âAlright.â You watched him set his mug in the sink and yank the shirt off of his shoulder, tugging it on over his head. If you didnât know any better, youâd think that his tone had something to do with your answerâand you did know better, but it was so easy to dismiss it as the fact that heâd just chugged some insanely hot coffee.Â
Maybe he was trying to get out of there as quickly as possibleâmaybe he had only invited you to breakfast to be politeâ
Borracho turned, brushing past you and making for the door. You shouldâve been relieved, but the sight of his rapidly retreating back made your stomach twist. Jesus Christ, what the hell did you two do?Â
Things had been in such a good place, clicking along so wellâhe was going on dates, you were going on dates, why had you gone so fucking insaneâ
âHey.âÂ
You snapped to attention at the sound of Benâs voice. He was lingered by the still closed door, one hand on the knob, the other clutching his jacket from there heâd scooped it off of the floor.Â
âYeah?â You asked.Â
His mouth moved wordlessly for a few seconds before he closed it, jaw tensing.Â
âIâllâLater.âÂ
Two disjointed words, and then Borracho was out of sight, your door clicking shut behind him.Â
--Â Â
Breakup sex. Thatâs what you decided, standing in the paint aisle of Home Depot as you tried to decide between the swatches of Eggshell and Harvest Wheat for the bathroom.Â
By the time you and Borracho had reached the decision to divorce, physical affection had gone right out the window. There hadnât been a last hug, a last kiss, a last fuckâat least, not one that you had known was the last, when it had happened. So last nightâs temporary insanity was actually much-delayed, absolutely normal, totally-within-the-bounds-of-every-other-fucked-up-relationship breakup sex.Â
And most importantly, it wasnât going to happen again.Â
One-and-done.
The two of you had moved on before, youâd do it again. You would go back to casual conversation and regular, Olivia-only related phone calls now that youâd bothâŠscratched that itch.Â
Harvest Wheat.Â
Harvest Wheat, and a new light fixture, and absolutely no more fucking your ex-husband.Â
--Â
âShut up,â He groaned, breathing hot against the skin of your throat, âFuck, you want everyone to know what weâre doing in here?âÂ
âYou shut up!â You hissed, fingers winding through his hair as his thrusts became more harsh.Â
Oh, this was bad. This was not what baby changing stations in public restrooms were meant for.Â
Going out for pizza after the game with a few of the other parents and Oliviaâs teammates had seemed so innocent on the face of it. The kids had won a game, and had more than earned a couple of slices and an ice cream.Â
But it had been Benâs fault for following you into the bathroom. And maybe it had been your fault a little, too, for telling him, when he pulled his jacket off and briefly bared his shoulder when his opened button down slipped, that his shoulder looked like it had healed up nicely. But it had been even more of Benâs fault when heâd asked if you wanted to change that.Â
Either way, the fact that youâd gotten up to use the restroom and opened the door to find him waiting there had been a surprise, and for him to guide you back inside with a kiss had caught you even more off-guard.Â
You couldâve told him fuck off, to stop, and he wouldâve. But where your hands had come up to push him away, youâd grasped his shirt and hauled him closer as his hands fumbled to undo the latch on the baby changing table.Â
You curled your arms around his shoulders now, praying that the slight rattling of the table wasnât loud enough that it would reach the patrons in the restaurant. You turned your head, blindly searching for Benâs lips and whining as his tongue dipped into your mouth. You used your hold on his hair to guide his head as you liked. His hands braced on the wall behind you, pace becoming more and more harsh.Â
âHurry up,â You breathed, âSomeoneâll come lookingâOh!â You gasped as Borracho lowered a hand between you, swirling your clit with his fingers. The speed and angle were just on the right side of rough, and Borrachoâs pace began to falter as you came. You tipped your head back as you felt Borrachoâs hips twitch, and he spilled into you.Â
You drew in a deep breath as the two of you settled. Borrachoâs hands smoothed to your waist, easing you off of the changing station before he took a step back. You tugged up your pants as he fixed his, and when he caught your eye, you shared a smile.
âShould get back out there before someone comes looking,â You nodded toward the door.Â
âYeah.âÂ
You made it two steps closer to the door before you heard, âForgetting something?âÂ
You turned back, and had to bite back a smile as Borracho lightly tugged his sleeve aside, baring his shoulder to you. You stepped closer, leaning in and sinking your teeth lightly into his skin. You hummed, pulling back and lapping across the dented skin.Â
âDid you like biting this much when we were married?â He teased.Â
âI dunno. Were you this biteable when we were married?âÂ
Borracho smiled, ducking in for a quick kiss. âGo back to the table. âM gonna sneak out back for a smoke.âÂ
âDonât take too long.âÂ
âGo,â He repeated, giving your ass a light slap as you turned away from him.Â
--Â Â
You werenât sure what was worseâreturning to the table and getting a suspicious look from Alyssa, or the realization that youâd need to pick up Plan B on the way home.Â
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