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With a laugh, Kate flicked a bit of flour at him. He flashed her a grin, pushing up on the counter to lean over and kiss her. A shiver of delight rippled over her skin at the warm press of his mouth on hers. She rubbed her flour-dusted hand on his cheek.
“Gotta get this in the oven,” she murmured.
He eased away from her, and she quickly dusted the round with cornmeal before placing it in the preheated Dutch oven. After putting on the lid, she slid the pot back into the oven and set the timer.
“Thirty minutes,” she said.
“I can get the job done in thirty minutes.” Trevor kissed the back of her neck and rubbed her ass. “Twice.”
“Oh, I know you can.” She turned and wound her arms around his shoulders, standing on tiptoe to kiss him.
He brought his hands to the sides of her neck, tilting her head gently to increase the pressure of their lips. Everything inside Kate quickened—her heartbeat, her arousal, her breath. She loved this prelude right before lovemaking, both the slow rise of their desire and the anticipation of their eventual union. Stroking her back, he cupped her rear and lifted her against him. With their lips still clinging together, he carried her into the bedroom and lowered them both onto the bed.
Kate wrapped her legs around his thighs, driving her hands into his thick hair as he kissed her deeply and thoroughly. He trailed his lips across her cheek to her ear, then down to the side of her neck. His breath heated her skin. She squirmed, pulling up the hem of his T-shirt so she could touch the warm, rigid planes of his abdomen.
“You smell amazing.” Trevor eased down her body, flicking his tongue into the hollow of her throat as he worked the buttons of her shirt. “All yeasty and doughy and fermented.”
Kate laughed. “And you smell like garlic, peppers, and onions. I could eat you right up.”
“Please do.” With a grin, he tugged her shirt off and unfastened her bra with a deft flick of his fingers.
She gripped his hair, her arousal spiraling like a kaleidoscope as he spread kisses over her bare breasts and licked her hard nipples. His stubble scraped her skin, the light rasp eliciting little tingles through every nerve.
She tugged impatiently at the fly of his jeans, but he appeared to be in no hurry to undress. Instead he took his time kissing every inch of her torso and breasts, winding the spool of desire in her tighter and tighter. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of her yoga pants, he eased them slowly off her body, pressing his mouth to her hips, her thighs, all the way down to her calves.
By the time he retraced the path upward to her inner thighs, Kate was trembling with eagerness. She cried out at the first touch of his tongue, and within seconds, he had her writhing and gasping in a desperate search for release. As the wave crashed over her, Trevor settled his hands on her hips, steadying her while he urged the final blissful sensations from her body.
His eyes navy-blue with both lust and satisfaction, he pulled himself back up to kiss her mouth. She squirmed, arching up against the hardness in his jeans. He eased away only long enough to shed his clothes, but when he started to urge her legs apart again, Kate pushed his hand away.
“Your turn,” she murmured, eyeing his considerable erection.
He tangled his hand in her hair, his breath escaping in a rush as she took him into her mouth and reciprocated the intimate pleasure. When his grip tightened against her scalp, she read the signal and eased back so he could position himself on top of her. Over the past year, their intimacy had become increasingly effortless, as they learned what the other person liked and how to read their unspoken desires.
She hugged him close, loving the friction of their bodies as they rocked and thrust in a seemingly endless spiral of pleasure. She came again, her cry muffled against his shoulder, and the tightening of her body incited his own release.
Together they fell back on the bed, chests heaving. He pulled her against his side and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I loaf you, Kate.”
She pinched his arm. “You’d butter.”
He grinned, rubbing his big hand over her shoulder. “When are we getting married?”
Her heart constricted. They’d talked about marriage even before moving in together nine months ago. Kate was still a little dizzy over how easy and perfect everything had been for them.
She’d spent most of her life determined not to fall hard and fast for men the way her mother always had. No good had ever come of her mother’s whirlwind romances and quickie marriages—just a lot of upheaval, relocating, unhappiness, and crushed hopes.
Kate had vowed that she would fall in loveslowly. She would walk, not run. She would stop at the yellow light. She would take the long road, using both a map and GPS, instead of the risky shortcut.
Then she met Trevor. Everything about him—his dynamic energy, the way he moved through the world so swiftly, as if time itself couldn’t keep up with him, his laser-sharp creativity and lack of fear—had electrified her all the way to her bones. After their first date and first kiss, he hadn’t played games or kept his distance.
No, he’d asked her out again the next day, and then the next. He’d been so attentive, so interested in everything about her. He’d been fascinated by things she hadn’t even paid attention to—her powerful organizational skills and “bread binders,” her budgeting, her knowledge of esoteric historical facts, the warm way people responded to what Trevor called “The Kate Effect.” He loved her calmness, her devotion to her mother and brother despite their challenges, her ability to make their shoebox apartment into a cozy little home.
In his eyes, she was special. No, she was extraordinary. When she was with him, she felt that way too, as if she’d absorbed his energy and magnetism. As if she could do anything.
She’d moved in with him three months after their first date, not long after she’d dropped out of the culinary institute to work and help her wayward brother. At six months, she and Trevor were talking about marriage, but she didn’t want to make plans until well after he had graduated and established his career.
“There’s no hurry.” She stroked her palm in circles over his chest. “I’m twenty-two, you’re twenty-four. We have plenty of time to think about marriage.”
It was her one holdout, the step she wouldn’t take without deep deliberation. Her mother was on husband #6, and an inviolable part of Kate would not treat marriage as anything less than sacred and lifelong. Her heart, of course, knew it would be that way with Trevor, but her head ruled that one aspect of their relationship.
