Always Us

slow sundays

Some old floof I had in my drafts that I felt like finishing up. Enjoy :)

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Ten years in this house had made Spencer James an expert in all its sounds and movements. At any given moment, he could distinguish exactly who was coming down a hall or racing up the staircase. The calm footsteps that were coming towards the kitchen were slow and relaxed—most definitely not belonging to any of his kids. They were a bit distracted, but set on where they were going. They belonged to his wife.

Anticipating the arrival, he swiveled on the island stool, right as Olivia turned the corner into the kitchen, head down, fingers typing on her phone. She walked straight to him, slotting herself between his spread thighs. A perfect fit.

"What's up, baby," he murmured, sliding his palms up the smooth skin of her thighs to the snug pair of lounge shorts that hugged her hips in all the right places. The band of her shorts cinched at the dip of her waist, leaving a thin strip of skin for him to enjoy.

She grunted an acknowledgement, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "I'm just finishing up this..." her words trailed off as she contemplated the wording of her email.

He roped his arms around her hips in an attempt to draw her attention, though his attempt was evaded when she simply looped her own arms over his head, keeping them outstretched behind him so that she could continue typing.

She picked back up as if he were still investing in response. "While I can."

But his attention had moved elsewhere. His lips brush along her collarbone, nipping and kissing until he reached her chest. His thumb brushed over her nipple, and he let out a satisfied grunt as it pebbled under the thin material. Perking up just for him.

An airy laugh brushed against his ear, but she still didn't pull back to look at him. "Having fun down there?"

"I'd be having more fun if you put your phone down."

"You know I have..." she continued with her half sentences.

He growled, lowering his mouth to her chest and delicately grazing her nipple with his teeth through the thin fabric. His teeth sank down slowly, and she jolted against his body.

"Let's go upstairs," he murmured, pressing his groin into her.

A tiny surge of success thrilled through him when she dropped one hand from her phone to palm his dick through his shorts. Her attention was now split, and bit by bit, he'd pull her away from the damn device.

"This is our chance. They're being good and playing quietly. Your mom got the babies."

She pressed a kiss to the shell of his ear. Her head now tilted towards his, allowing her to scatter light kisses against his head while one eye remained fixed ahead.

"I'm not so sure if quiet is a good thing," she laughed.

"Maybe not," he chuckled reluctantly before dropping his voice down to its smooth timber. His fingers grazed up the warmth of her inner thighs. "But I think this might be." His finger slipped into her shorts, scooting the fabric to the side.

A low hum vibrated through her throat. "Okay, I'm almost—" she bit down onto her lip, wiggling her hips in hopes that a finger would slip inside.

"Oh, now you're paying attention to me?" he whispered into her ear.

"Put it—"

The high-pitched scream of his overly-excited five year old rang through their halls, interrupting a sentence she had actually intended to finish. He cursed under his breath. Her hand stilled, and she twirled in his arms, all before their son rushed into the kitchen.