Getting Lucky. Kayla Perrin

he reaches deep, pushing as far as he can go. I gasp in carnal delight.

      “You know I love you,” he whispers.

      “I know … “

      When he pulls out of me, I sigh in protest, but then his mouth is on my nipple, suckling me hard. His fingers find my pussy and massage my clit in urgent strokes. Soon, I’m feeling my orgasm building.

      Dom thrusts into me again, his fingers still on my clit as his cock pleasures my pussy. And then I’m digging my fingers into his back as I start to come hard.

      Dom kisses me as I come, I’m sure to quiet me. I wrap one leg around him and arch my pussy against him as I ride the wave.

      “I love you,” I tell him, my breathing ragged. “Oh, baby … “

      Soon, Dom is grunting and thrusting hard, and then falling against me as he succumbs to his own orgasm.

      For a good minute, we lie there, Dom still inside me, my leg still wrapped around his ass. I wipe sweat from Dom’s forehead.

      Slowly, our breathing begins to return to normal. He kisses my arm. I kiss his throat.

      And then his mouth finds mine, and we neck deeply, his tongue playing over mine in a way he knows I love.

      “I guess we’d better get inside,” Dom finally says as he eases his body off mine.

      “You’ll have to unpack the groceries. I’m heading straight for the shower.”

      Dom nods as he pulls up his jeans. “Hey—I think we solved the privacy problem. We can always sneak into the garage.”

      I smack his stomach. “Don’t joke about that.”

      “Everything’s going to be fine,” Dom says, flashing me his übersexy smile. When he smiles like that, I’d be willing to buy a swamp from him if he promised it was good land to build a house. Lord, how I love this man.

      “All right,” I say after a minute. “I won’t make a big deal of your mother being here.”

      As much as Mama Deanna gets on my case, I’m not about to have Dom put his mother out. And in a way, I am envious. At least his mother is here. I have no clue where my mother is. The last I heard from her, she was in a Bible compound somewhere in Alabama or Mississippi. My mother is a religious fanatic—and I don’t mean that she’s someone who loves God and takes religion seriously. No, she’s one of those Bible-thumping, over-the-top, always-judging-people-for-their-shortcomings kind of religious nuts. I get the feeling at times that she’s not allowed to make calls out of the compound without permission.

      At least that’s what I tell myself to explain why I hear from her once a year if I’m lucky.

      Out of the car, I follow Dom to where he left the two grocery bags. “Remember I told you that I was thinking about going away with Claudia and Annelise?” I say.

      “Yeah.” Dom picks up both totes.

      “Well, we’re planning something for the end of the month. Jared—the cop I told you about—and his brother, Chad, will both be going. Here—let me take a bag.”

      “I’ve got it. You get the door, and I’m fine.”

      Dom is chivalrous that way, so I don’t argue. I simply open the door and hold it for him as he enters the house.

      Mama Deanna is once again sitting in the armchair and continuing to knit what I assume is something for the baby. The television is tuned now to some afternoon game show. Mama Deanna is talking to the television, telling the woman on-screen to pick box number two.

      “Hey, Ma,” Dom says as he heads into the kitchen with the groceries. His mother raises a hand in greeting, but continues to give advice to the contestant on-screen, as if the woman can possibly hear her.

      I follow Dom into the kitchen, worried that my clothes look disheveled compared to earlier. “I think we’ll try Mexico,” I say. “But I’ll tell you about it later. I’m going up to shower.”

      “Okay.”

      I ease up on my toes and give Dom a quick peck on the lips, and then I hurry upstairs, hoping Mama Deanna hasn’t figured out that Dom and I were having sex in the backseat of the car like teenagers.

      Not that we’re not entitled. It’s our house after all, and we’re adults.

      But I know that while Mama Deanna is here, she’s going to sit in that armchair in the living room as if it’s her own personal throne.