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I wrinkle my nose up. “You’re such a romantic.”
“You didn’t sign on for the ride because I’m a romantic, Lovey,” he says, guiding me over toward the kitchen table—and I know what he wants when we get there. Of course, I follow him easily because I want it just as much. From the smile on his face, he has me all figured out, too.
“Why did I sign on for this ride, Jan?” I ask, unable to keep the laughter out of my voice.
“Because you like what I give you, the way I give it to you, and how often I give it, Lovey,” he answers, hunger bleeding into his words as he lifts me up on the table.
“And why did you sign up for this ride, honey?” I ask, my voice quiet and tender as I stare into the eyes of the man—the only man—I have ever loved.
His fingers had moved to the buttons on my shirt but with my question, he stops. His gaze locks with mine and suddenly his face is completely serious. If I wasn’t secure in the love that we share, I’d almost get worried. I know better, though. I do. This is Jansen. I’m safe with him.
“The damn truth of it is, Lovey, without you, I don’t think I would still be breathing. You make the world go round for me. You have the biggest heart God ever made, but it’s your love. You love me completely and it’s so fucking sweet that words can’t describe how it feels when you give it to me. You steal my damn breath every day, woman. You always have.”
Tears sting my eyes. “Damn it, Jan. That! That right there!”
His forehead crinkles, deepening the lines on his golden tanned skin that are always present. My man works hard out in the sun every single day and I love that his body shows it.
Who am I kidding?
I love everything about him.
“What are you talking about now, Lovey? Tell me, but make it quick. I want to enjoy my woman before our girl gets home.”
I smile. It was never a question for Jansen. He became father to my brood from day one. He loves them as fiercely as I do and he’s one hell of a daddy to them all. Still, he may spoil Marigold a little more than he did the others. It’s probably because she’s the baby of the family and she depended on him more through the years, but whatever the reason, I love when he calls her our girl…
“You say the sweetest things that somehow makes me love you more every single time, when that shouldn’t be possible because I already love you with everything I am,” I complain, helping him get me out of my shirt and throwing it on the floor. Immediately he goes to work on unbuttoning my pants and I start on his shirt. Luckily my man’s shirts snap up the middle and are easy to undo.
“You make that sound like a bad thing, honey.”
“It’s not but you’re the reason I matchmake the way I do. I want our babies to have the happiness that we have. I want them to have the magic you’ve given me, Jan.”
He lifts his head to look at me. “Is this your way of telling me that you’re going to be matchmaking again soon? Who is it this time? You know we’re going to run out of kids soon.”
“I’ve got my eyes set on Faith. I think she’s already on her way to finding her match. I may just need to advise her from the sidelines.”
“Shit,” he hisses. “Okay, the first thing you need to do is lift up and get out of these pants.”
“What? Why are we rushing it? We’ve got time before Mary gets home,” I gripe—but I do it while shoving my pants down.
“Because I came in to tell you that Hope called my cell and they’re looking for Faith. Apparently, she ended up in an all-night wedding chapel with one of Aden’s buddies and then flew the coop. They think she may be headed here.”
“Well, crap. You better get busy, Jan. I need some inspiration to pull off my latest match.”
He laughs, shaking his head at me, but before I can enjoy the sight of him laughing—which is always amazing—he has his cock in his hand and he’s pumping it in his firm grip. All rational thought flees. Faith will have to be okay on her own for a bit.
For now, there’s only three things to worry about—me, my man and the kitchen table.
taking it slow
By:
Jordan Marie
A bottle of tequila
10 lime wedges
1 sexy blonde
Add in a crazy Vegas weekend
Lick and swallow
What do you get?
A recipe for disaster.
Last night I got married.
I think.
I was drunk off my ass, so it's not exactly crystal clear.
But I woke up with a ring on my finger, a marriage certificate, and a sneaking suspicion I’d had a wild wedding night.
