Mother Faker

Pretty sure I have the restraint of a saint. Last night, I overheard Liv and Dylan’s muffled conversation when Dylan took Adeline to sleep in her room so Liv could “play.”

My cock grew so fucking hard at the thought of Liv tiptoeing into my room. If she wanted to play with me, I was game.

But from where I lay on the twin-size bed, it sounded as though she went through her typical nightly routine before climbing into bed. After a solid twenty minutes of silence, a giggle floated in on the air, followed by a sound that made it clear what type of play she was engaging in.

The buzzing was quickly muted. Fuck. Probably because she’d stuck it inside and fucked herself. I’ve never been so jealous of a damn piece of plastic in my life.

A moment later, a moan slipped past her perfect lips, and I couldn’t breathe for fear that I would miss a single sound.

In no time, the sounds stopped, and her light went out. In the ensuing silence, I had no doubt she was asleep, sated and at peace. I, on the other hand, stayed awake, hard as a rock, and replayed her sounds all fucking night.

Which is why I’m now hiding in Dylan’s shower instead of the one I share with Liv. I need to get away from her scent, her sounds, her. Otherwise, I’m going to lose my damn mind and drag her into the bedroom so I can show her how much more satisfied she’ll be with my tongue between her thighs.

“Fuck,” I groan, fisting my cock as I replay every sound she made last night.

Do I feel bad for jacking off in Dylan’s bathroom? Only a little. Dylan’s the one who put me in this position when she gave Liv a toy and encouraged her to “play,” forcing me to listen like a damn creep to my wife pleasing herself in the next room.

Picturing Liv’s breasts and the way her nipples would pebble beneath my tongue, I work myself harder.

When the door swings open, I grip my dick tight and hold my breath.

“Oh my God, Dylan,” Liv starts. “You were totally right. Last night was amazing.”

I stand stock still, the hot water beating down on my back, my hard cock still in hand, trying to hold back a groan.

“Although the words weren’t quite enough to do it for me. I ended up picturing Beckett doing what the bossy grump did. Is that bad? That I pictured having sex with my boss?”

Fuck. Someone save me. Knowing I need to do something, I reply in a high-pitched voice, making sure to keep it muffled. “No, he’s your husband.”

Her responding laughter instantly relaxes me.

“True. But it was so good. I wonder if it would be that good with him. Do you think he’d actually go down on me like that guy did? Drake never liked that.”

“Douche,” I murmur without thinking.

Liv laughs. “Yeah. God, Dylan, I want him. This is crazy. I’m, like, sex starved after one measly orgasm. Is this how it is? The more you have it, the more you want it?”

Fuck. Now I can’t do anything but picture going down on Liv. Spreading her wide on her bed, holding her down while I make her suffer through one orgasm after another. I close my eyes and pump myself to the image. I need this damn release.

“Did you hear me?” Liv asks.

An instant later, the curtain rings scrape against the rod and I open my eyes, only to be met with Liv’s stunned face. I’m unable to control what happens next because the moment her eyes meet mine, my orgasm hits, and I explode all over the wall while Liv stares, frozen in place, her lip between her teeth.

With a grunt, I slap a palm to the wall, completely spent, heaving in one breath, then another. I have no fucking idea what to do now. What do I say to her?

Before I can come up with a coherent string of words, Liv finally shrieks, “Oh my God. I’m so sorry!” and drops the curtain. A second later, the door slams, and I listen as she runs through the house, likely looking for Dylan or a rock to hide under.

Too bad I’m not hiding anymore. Tonight is date night, and I intend to let Liv know precisely what I would do if she would allow it. I’ll answer every question she asks. And then, hopefully, my wife will let me show her exactly what I want to eat, and it’s definitely not steak.

Aware that Liv needed some time to freak out, I left for work early. But when Gavin wanders in and asks why Liv called in sick, I regret that decision immensely.

“What do you mean she called in sick?”

I pull my phone from my pocket, but I have no new notifications. Not that she’d actually reach out, since she’s obviously hiding.

“Oh, weird. Your wife didn’t tell you she wasn’t coming to work?” The asshole smirks.

Ignoring him and unsure of what else to do, I call Dylan. She seems to be the Liv whisperer. Hopefully she can help.

“Hey, Becks. Miss me already?”

With a groan, I drop my head back against my leather office chair.

Across the room, Gavin laughs. I swear, these two will be the death of me.

“What’s going on with Liv?”

“You mean because she grabbed the kids and ran this morning?”

“She did what?” I rasp, my blood heating in my veins.

“Don’t worry. It wasn’t only because of your little shower encounter.” Her chill demeanor only makes me want to pull my hair out.

I close my eyes and dig deep for some semblance of calm. “Was she… Is she upset about that?”

Fuck. I should have told her right away it was me in the shower. I shouldn’t have fucking jacked off while she told me how she got off to thoughts of me last night. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Dylan’s light laugh filters across the line. “No. She’s embarrassed, and she probably thinks you’re upset about it.”

That knocks the air from my lungs. “Why the hell would I be upset about it?”

Gavin wears an amused smirk on his face as he watches me. I’m so glad he can only hear one side of this conversation.

“Because she’s Liv. She worries. And, well, you’re you.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

She laughs again, completely unbothered by my indignation. “See, Becks? You’re proving my point. You have anger issues. We all know it’s because you’ve deprived yourself of what you really want for so long that you can’t help it.”

“What?” We’ve gone completely off topic. How does this woman do this to me?

“Liv. You growl because of Liv. She’s always believed you growl at her, but I saw it for what it was from the moment I met you—you were growling because you didn’t have her.”

“What the hell are you going on about?”

“See? You did it again. Growling. Roar.” She laughs and mimics a damn lion.

Fuck, this woman makes me want to pull my hair out. “I don’t growl.”

Gavin, who’s dropped into a chair on the other side of my desk and has an ankle propped up on a knee, laughs loudly. “You so growl.”

“Oh, hey, Gavin,” Dylan says into my ear.

Ready to lose my shit, I throw the phone down.

Gavin puts it on speaker. “Hey, Dylan. What’s going on with Liv?”

“Like I’ve been trying to explain, she left, but not only because she was embarrassed about what happened with Beckett.”

“What happened with Beckett?” His brows raise and his tone drips with concern.

“Do not answer that question,” I growl.

Oh fuck. I totally growl. I’m a damn caveman when it comes to Liv.

“Masturbation is nothing to be ashamed of, Beckett; we told Liv the same thing last night, and by morning, she was singing its praises.”

I groan, covering my face. “Please do not say that word.”

My asshole brother snorts. “Aw, Beckett, she’s right. It’s natural. Although, if I had a wife, she wouldn’t need her hand to pleasure herself.”

I drop my forehead to my desk and sigh. This is absurd. “Dylan,” I say, sitting straight again and smoothing out my tie, “can we get to the part where you tell me where the hell my wife went and why?”

“Right. She went to her brother’s house. He’s always been good with the kids, and she needed some backup after Winnie’s rough day.”

I immediately sit up in my seat, glaring at the phone. “Why did Winnie have a rough day?”

“Because her father chose not to show up to read to her class after he’d signed up to be there. And yes, you heard me right, chose, not forgot. He chose not to show up.”

“Douche,” Gavin grumbles.

Potent rage courses through me, shrouding the world around me in red like it did when the fucker got shitty with her yesterday. “I’ll kill him.”

Dylan sighs. “Liv’s brother will help. Her kids deserve to know they have people in their lives who will put them first. Liv can only do so much since someone always has her traveling.”

My head throbs and my gut clenches. Fuck. I’m fucking up her entire life.

“I’ll make sure her schedule is more flexible,” I promise.

Dylan hums. “Honestly, I think what she really needs, if you care like I think you do…” She lets the words linger like that between us.

“Anything,” I say without hesitation. I’m all in. “Tell me what to do. I’ll do it.”

“Show up. Get in the car and go to Bristol and show up. Not just for Liv, but for her kids. If you care about her like I think you do, that’s what she needs. Someone to choose her family. To just freaking show up.”

I slump in my chair and drop my head into my hands. For years, I watched my father pick his job over us, and it hurt. But am I really the person she needs to show up? I’m no different from my father; I’m just as busy, just as dedicated. The last thing I want to do is disappoint Liv or her kids.

But I also can’t not show up.

I pick my head up and lock eyes with Gavin. “Can you text me the address?”

“Already done,” Dylan chirps.

“Thanks, Dippy Do.”

When I’ve ended the call, I brace myself for Gavin to tease me. To ask about the damn shower debacle. Anything. But across from me, all he does is study me, his gaze far too knowing.

“Tell Liv I said hi.” He pulls himself to standing and buttons his suit jacket. “I hope she feels better.”

“That’s it? No insults or jabs? No teasing or mocking?”

“Nah. You’re giving yourself enough shit in that head of yours.” He strides to the door, but as he reaches it, he turns back. “Dad and Mom may not have been there, but you always were. We were lucky to have you. Liv is too.”

Then he leaves before I can reply, which is good, because right now, I have no fucking clue what to say.