I closed my eyes and did it hard.

We held on to each other for a while.

“I need to get the dough going,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Stay out here, I got dough and kid. You take time to get shit right in your head.”

I tipped that head back to look up at him.

“Thanks, honey.”

“Love you, baby,” he said before he dropped his lips to mine.

That was a peck too, a harder one, before he gave me a squeeze and let me go.

I watched him go inside and heard my son complain, “Daddy, Dappah Dan cirsee.”

That meant Dapper Dan and something about his circle.

It was difficult to separate kid toys from dog toys, and more difficult for Dapper Dan who in very real ways was also our kid, a kid our boy often threw his toys for so they could play.

In other words, Toby would be on his laptop that night, ordering some replacement.

I turned to the railing, put a hand to it and lifted my wineglass to my lips, resting my eyes on the brief snatch of grass we had that fed into forest.

One thing I knew, I was not taking my son to that reading.

The other thing I knew, if our father was there, he’d see Iz and me walking in on high heels, wearing nice dresses with the best men alive at our sides.

So whatever that woman had to say or do, it really didn’t matter.

She could try to shred us.

She could give us a million dollars.

It just didn’t matter.

We already had it all.

Toby was on his knees on the floor at the side of the bed.

I was on my back in it.

And his mouth was between my legs.

He ate me and he ate me and, God, God, fucking consumed me.

And when my hand was clenching his hair, almost there, his mouth went away.

God, I hated when he did this.

And totally fucking loved it.

“Baby,” I begged.

But then I was on my knees at the edge of the bed and I was taking his cock.

Okay.

Yeah.

Loved it.

“Fuck yourself,” he ordered thickly.

I got up on my hands too and did what I was told.

He let me, then took over, fucking me into the bed as he entered it. Once he got us where he wanted us, he curled over me, biting my shoulder, my neck, his arm wrapped around my chest, and he pulled me up.

He fucked me upright, both hands going to my breasts, squeezing, rolling and tugging my nipples.

My head fell back. “Tobe.”

“Mouth.”

I turned to him.

He rolled my nipples, fucked me and kissed me.

God.

I was getting there, fast.

I broke the kiss and said urgently, “Honey.”

I gave a muted cry when he pulled me off, turned me around to face him on my knees, his hand was in my hair, yanking it back, his other arm was around my waist, both forcing me to arch for him, then his mouth was at my nipple, sucking hard.

“Oh my God, baby,” I breathed, burying my fingers in his hair, and with my other hand, reaching for his cock.

It took hold and stroked.

“Yeah,” he growled against my flesh, pumping into my hand, switching nipples.

“Need you to fuck me,” I told him.

He sucked harder.

“Toby, need you inside me,” I pleaded.

He rolled my nipple with his tongue then said there, “In a minute.”

“Toby—”

He shoved me to my back. I lost purchase on his cock, he took control of it and with one hand jacking himself, his other hand diving between my legs to finger fuck me, he towered over me, claiming my pussy and giving me a show.

“Come on me,” I ordered.

“No fuckin’ way, ride that hand,” he ordered in return.

“Tobe—”

“Earn it,” he rumbled.

God, I was earning it already.

Did he have any idea how hot it was to watch him tug on his cock?

“Okay, let me suck you,” I offered.

He slid his fingers out and rolled my clit.

My eyes rolled in my head.

“Baby, who controls this bed?”

My eyes rolled back, and I huffed out, “You’re annoying.”

He grinned, stopped rolling, stopped stroking, grasped me behind my knees, yanked them up, released one so he could grab his cock, and then he was inside.

Finally.

My back lifted from the bed.

His hand went again to my knee and he fucked me.

“Yes, Toby,” I encouraged.

He spread my legs wider.

Now I was his show.

“Yes,” I whimpered, wanting to watch all that was my man up on his knees, banging me, but I was too lost in him actually banging me.

“Totally figurin’ out how to film you takin’ my fucking so you can see how goddamned fuckin’ gorgeous you are,” he growled.

Oh God.

We were so totally doing that.

“Tobe—”

He took a hand from my knee and pinched my clit.

There it was.

My mouth opened, the world washed away, and it was only Toby and me.

Just Toby and me.

In other words, I came for him.

Hard.

He covered me, kept fucking me, and I felt his finger slide in my mouth.

I sucked on it.

Hard.

“Fuckin’ fuck,” he grunted, his finger was gone, his tongue was there, and I was just beginning to come down when he groaned in my mouth.

That was Toby.

Unless he was doing me on my knees or belly (and sometimes even then), he came while kissing me.

I loved that about him.

Then again, I loved everything about him.

He finished fully planted, worked my neck with his lips and beard and slid slowly out trailing that beard down my chest, between my breasts, to my belly before he moved away and left the bed.

I rarely cleaned up.

That was also Toby.

He looked after me.

I rolled to my side, curled up and watched the door to the bathroom so I saw him reappear with a wet washcloth.

By the by, my white bathroom accessories against his black granite countertops and among all that wood in his bathroom?

The bomb.

Toby striding to me naked after fucking me like he fucked me?

Da bomb diggity bomb bomb.

“C’m ’ere,” he murmured heading to the side of the bed.

I pushed up, went there and got up to my knees.

“Spread,” he muttered.

I spread.

The warm cloth went between my legs just as his lips hit mine and his tongue went between them.

We made out while he cleaned me.

He nipped my lower lip lightly when he was done and ordered, “Don’t move,” before he headed back to the bathroom.

Goodie.

It was Friday night. We had a full day tomorrow, what with Matlock Memorial Day Food Festival and a visit to Margot and Dave and all. And Brooklyn would wake us early.

But it was Friday night so all that was goodness, not responsibility.

So he wasn’t done with me.

He came back, but not to me.

I watched him walk to the nightstand. I appreciated his back and ass as he did something at it, thinking, goodie again.

Toys.

Needless to say, on a day Brooklyn was spending some time with Aunt Iz, Uncle Johnny and his GoGo and Davey, Tobe and I had taken a road trip to Grayburg.

And he’d been right. The sex shop there was inspired.