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?” He licks the length of my pussy lightly, not even coming close to giving me what I need.
I arch my back as I try to press Winter’s face to me. “Yes, but I’ve been imagining a whole lot more than that.”
His beard to my pussy, and his chuckle, do good things to me, and he delivers pure happiness when he buries his tongue in me.
“Oh God, yes,” I moan, hooking a leg over his shoulders.
My first orgasm of the afternoon comes less than ten minutes later. As I’m losing myself in it, Winter moves up the bed, over me, and brings his mouth to my breasts. “You were ready for me,” he says before taking one of my nipples between his lips.
Threading my fingers through his hair, I agree, “I was.” My man is talented, too, though, and that’s the main reason I came so fast.
He lifts his face and presses his mouth to mine. His kiss is slow to start, a promise of what’s to come, and by the time he deepens it, our hands are everywhere and I’m coming out of my skin. With lust, with love, with way too many emotions I can’t even begin to list.
I place my hands to his chest and push him away before scrambling to get on top of him. “Oh God.” My words are breathless; I’m practically panting with these unfamiliar feelings coursing through me. Something’s not right. I feel off-balance, like my emotions are seesawing all over the place.
Winter rolls onto his back as I climb on top. Confusion flickers in his eyes, but he lets me take over without a word.
“You taste like coffee,” I blurt.
The confusion in his eyes gives way to amusement as he grips my hip with one hand. “Are you good, angel?”
Yes.
No.
Fuck, I don’t know.
Like, what the hell is happening to my body? And my mind! It’s going berserk with far too many thoughts and feelings. And right in the middle of the sex I’ve been craving all day.
Gah.
“Birdie,” he says, snapping my attention back to him. “What’s going on?”
I run my fingers through my hair as I stare down at him. “I miss coffee and you taste like it.” It was one of the things I gave up to help our chances of conceiving, but right now, I’m a little resentful of the fact he’s had some today while I haven’t had any for weeks.
He sits up, his arms coming around me, his eyes searching mine. The love I see in them hits me hard in the chest. This man would do anything for me. And suddenly, out of the blue, a wave of extreme emotion unleashes through me and tears stream down my face.
“Fuck,” he says, cupping the back of my head and pulling me close. “Let it out.”
I sob for a good few minutes, completely bewildered by what’s going on. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. It makes no sense. Ten minutes ago, I was all about sex, and now it’s the last thing on my mind. And why the hell am I crying?
When I get my tears under control enough to talk, I wipe my eyes. Since I don’t actually know what’s going on to be able to explain it to my husband, I start with what I do know. “It was the coffee, I think. That and a million emotions that kissing you brought up. And then when you put your arms around me, it hit me how much you love me and I couldn’t stop myself from crying. It’s dumb, I know—”
“It’s not dumb. It’s the drugs you’re on. You know this.”
“Yeah, I do, but that doesn’t make it easier when it all crashes into me. I can’t just flip a switch and say ‘Oh, that’s just the drugs. I’ll stop feeling these things now.’”
“I know that, but what you can do is acknowledge where they’re coming from and not beat yourself up over them and say it’s dumb to feel them. This is the first time they’ve hit, right?”
“I had a moment earlier. That was the first time.”
“What happened?”
“I practically fired Juanita.”
Full credit to Winter, he doesn’t react to that statement in any way other than to ask, “Why?”
I give him a rundown of what happened and then say, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m a little concerned about running the business while I’m all over the place like this. Do you think I should talk to Cleo about it again?”
