“Language,” I remind her as I bear down on her clit with my pubic bone.
“I have an idea,” Rosanna gasps out, fingers digging into my ass to hold me closer to her. “We throw out the language rule in bed. Deal?”
“Deal.” Tilting her chin to me, I drop sweet kisses over her soft lips as we both come back to ourselves. When I can no longer stay inside her, I roll us to our sides. A nap sounds really good right about now. With my woman in my arms and my cock nestled close to her pussy. Yeah, fucking awesome. My eyes droop closed, but pop back open when a finger runs across my chest.
“I love your tattoos,” she whispers, tracing a tendril that spirals around my nipple. “You look so fierce with them. So—what’s that noise? Is that”—her nose crinkles in confusion—“Toto?”
My small laugh shakes her. “Yep. I don’t usually kick them out, but they’ll get used to it.”
“You made them stay outside in this cold weather? The poor babies! Go let them in right now.”
I lean over her and stop her protests with a kiss. “Right now is for you and me. They’re okay out there, I swear. Plus, we need to talk.” I tip her chin up. “I’m going to hire a moving company to pack your things and bring them here. It’s just not safe for you to go back, and I don’t want to leave you while I do it myself.
“And I don’t want you worrying about a job just yet, either. You need to take some time for yourself and our babies and just relax. Just breathe and be. I’ve got a porch that’s perfect for watching every sunrise and sunset, and I want you to enjoy it with me.”
She stills in my arms, looking up at me with a hint of sadness. “I have to work, Connor. I’ve got doctor appointments and baby things for two that I need to start buying and planning for. And as much as I appreciate you letting me stay with you, I’m going to need a house. Not to mention—”
“Stop right there.” I shush her with a finger to her lips. “You’re staying your sweet little ass right here in this bed with me, and you’re going to let me take care of you. We’ll figure everything else out as it comes up, but you just let me worry about things for now, you hear me? Don’t you roll those eyes at me.”
Stopping mid-roll, she giggles, then turns serious. “Do you mean it?”
Heart pounding from those words wanting to free themselves from my chest, I manage to say instead, “There’s nothing I’ve ever meant more.”
Chapter twelve
Rosanna
WithTotosprawledacrossme like a big lap dog and Bagheera perched behind my head on the arm of the couch, I pull my charging phone closer to check the notification that just pinged on my phone. Stunned, I nudge Connor with my toes. “I can’t believe this.”
“What, baby?” He catches my foot and begins massaging it.
“I just got a text from the Wrights’ son, and he—”
His hands stop mid-squeeze. “He has your number?”
I roll my eyes in mock frustration. Silly, jealous man. “No, he sent it from his mom’s phone. Anyway, there’s not going to be a funeral service since his dad preferred being cremated. They’re going to spread his ashes later, but it’s just going to be for family.” Putting my phone down, I absentmindedly stroke Toto’s ears.
“Are you okay with that?” The massage picks back up.
Am I? “I suppose so. I’ve never enjoyed funerals. The person never really looks the same, and I’d rather remember him like he was.” As long as I don’t have any more nightmares about him, that is.
And if Mrs. Wright was as inconsolable as she was the night we found her husband, I think I’d break down and cry right along with her. Poor thing. “He also said you could swing by and pick up your furniture pieces. The business is closing down because he doesn’t want to keep it going.”
Another pinging notification breaks the silence, but it’s not mine. Connor glances at his phone, then to me. “Movers are here.” With a final pat to my socked foot, he stands and gives me a short kiss. “You just sit tight, kitten.”
That was quick. They were hired only yesterday. He opens the door and two men carry boxes in while Toto carefully watches, eyes and ears alert. One of the men nods at me and says, “Ma’am.” Toto doesn’t like that, judging by the quietwoofhe gives under his breath.
“Toto,” I gently scold. “Be polite.” His ears fold as he darts a look at me, but he quickly focuses on the movers again.
In just a few short minutes, all the boxes are in the bedroom, and with that universal backslapping handshake that men love to do, Connor thanks the movers again and closes the door after them. Quirking his eyebrow at me, he asks, “Shall we?”
“Yep. Come on, Toto.” He gives a doggy groan and reluctantly lets me up. He’s such a sweet boy, him and Baggy both. Connor gives his ears a ruffle before taking my hand and leading me down the hallway.
“I’ll help you unpack.” There’s a certain something hiding away in his expression as he looks at the small handful of boxes. Satisfaction? Smugness? I can’t quite decide. At any rate, he’s had a quiet smile plastered all over his face since I quit arguing about staying with him.
Crossing the room to get my chapstick, I freeze in my tracks. “Connor.” Ohmigod. He did it again. The cat really did it again.
I feel him come up behind me. “What is it, baby?”
