Emma's eyes flew open and jerked upright in the chair.

She sat there, her heart beating so hard she thought it was going to burst through her chest.

“What the hell was that?" she whispered, rubbing at her temples.

Her heart slowed, but her mind raced. Seriously, what the hell was that? The last few weeks she'd been having an increasing amount of wet dreams. It was obvious her body was telling her she needed to do more than go through batteries Like they were going out of style.

Her reaction to Robin and Cliff earlier was a sign of that. She still couldn't believe she'd not only stood there watching, but to have that reaction? She swore if Eric hadn't shown up she might have popped her cork just from observing them. She was definitely going into heat, the effect of the wine on her proved that. Robin was right, it did lower inhibitions.

But that dream? A dirty dream was one thing, but a mother with her son? Worse, seeing her and Eric in that position? Where the hell could that have possibly come from? Like pretty much every normal mother, she had never once had an obscene thought of her son.

To the contrary, on occasions where she'd noted her son was a good looking young man, she felt a little awkward.

"Its okay," she muttered softly.

"Too much to drink, new house, nerves." Her words sounded as lame as they were. There were just some things you never thought of no matter how tired or drunk you were.

She rose from the chair, wincing at how sore she was. Time for that soak and bed. Emma left the small light on over the counter in case.

Eric got thirsty in the middle of the night and left the kitchen.

She crossed the dark dining room, and turned on the small lamp in the corner to leave him a lighted path in the unfamiliar house. Emma entered the living room and saw Eric was asleep on the large sectional.

He had removed his shirt and was just wearing a pair of shorts and his I-pad was face down on his chest. She quietly padded over to him, and smiled. He'd been so moody lately, but when he was asleep he looked like the sweet boy her and Steven had raised.

Eric had worked his ass off, mounting the TV on the wall and setting up her computer and monitor so all he had to do when the movers came tomorrow is put it on her desk. The cable couldn't come until next week, but he'd linked his I-pad to the TV so they could watch Netflix or movies.

He'd also brought all her clothes up to her room and hung up her work clothes and more playful dresses that she never wore anymore in the huge walk in closet.

Eric had not only put together her shoe racks, but put all her shoes in them. Granted, her OCD would force her to arrange them, but it was the thought that counted. He'd even made her bed with the pillows and sheet set she'd brought in the trailer.

The movers were due at noon tomorrow with her desk and book cases and Eric's bedroom furniture, along with a few small pieces of furniture she'd decided to take with them. That and the boxes of personal belongings that hadn't fit in the trailer.

Twenty plus years in that house and all they took fit into that trailer and a sixteen foot U-haul. She noticed Eric had unpacked the photos that she wouldn't trust with the movers and lined them up on the mantle and in the shadow box on the wall opposite the fire place.

Emma purposely looked away from them. She didn't need to look at Steven right now and wonder what he thought of her leaving the home and life they'd built together.

Eric was breathing slow and heavily and she grunted at the half empty bottle of wine and the empty glass on the coffee table in front of him.

She'd told him he could have a glass, not two or three. But what the hell, he was twenty, a man now and he'd earned it. Leaning over him,

Emma eased the I-pad from his chest in case he moved so it wouldn't fall on the floor.

When she touched it, the screen came up and she stifled a gasp. The picture on the screen was one Eric had taken in a mirror and she was confronted with the sight of her son sitting on his bed with Ashley kneeling between his legs.

She was naked, but for a green thong, reinforcing it had always been his favorite color. It dawned on her that picture was taken the day she'd walked in on them fooling around. Eric hadn't locked his door and she didn't know Ashley had been over.

Emma slid the picture over and the next one was more graphic. This one Eric had taken of Ashley blowing him, his cock was not visible as it was buried in her mouth, her lips at the base of his shaft.