Page 13 of Falling for My Son's Best Friend

“Sure, but you’ll be crawling after a work-out, it’s not meant for lesser men,” he rumbled smoothly.

Robbie grew a little pale then, but he straightened his shoulders.

“I’m up for it,” he drawled, trying to look unperturbed. “I can do it.”

And with that, the two men grabbed their things and headed out the door.

“Bye Mom,” said my son, stepping out without a glance over his shoulder.

But Trent lingered a little. He turned to look at me, one foot out the door, eyes hot, promising, sweeping over my curvy form as I sat rock still at the counter. My skin tingled, body flushing hot because he was telling me something even though there were no words.

“Bye Miz Sands,” he drawled with a wink, shutting the door quietly behind him.

And with that, the energy left the room and I slumped, breathing a sigh of relief. How in the world had this happened? How in the world had I just survived a breakfast with my lover in the room, our sensual night very much at the front of my mind, the memories of that huge body, his demanding, possessive touch? And now, Trent was a guest in my home for the next week. Oh god, he’d be sleeping under my roof, mere feet away, that big body relaxed, so near and yet so far. Because he was my son’s friend, almost two decades younger, and it was completely wrong, totally taboo. Or was it? Because we’d already breached that barrier unknowingly, fucking hard, deep and good, and it’d been amazing … so amazing that I knew it was going to happen again even if Hell froze over.