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“Should we shower off the oil, so we don’t end up buying the Ritz new sheets?”
“We’ll keep the robes under us.”
“Oh, good plan.”
He unties my belt and removes the robe, spreading it out behind me. “Have a seat, love,” he says as he kneels before me.
I like where this is going, especially when he guides my legs onto his shoulders and moves in for the kill. Dear God, the man is gifted in the oral department. Hell, he’s gifted in all the departments. I’m so relaxed from the massage that he’s able to coax a quick, powerful orgasm from me with only a few strategic strokes of his talented tongue.
“You got another one for me?”
I hold out my arms to him. “Only if you come with me.”
He stands, wipes his face on the sleeve of the robe and then removes it.
I enjoy watching the way his muscles flex as he moves, coming down on top of me.
“Hi there.” He smiles down at me as he holds himself up, so he doesn’t touch my sore breast.
“How’re you doing?”
“Much better than I have for the last seven weeks, when my best girl was going through some shit. But she’s gonna to be fine now, and that’s the only thing that matters.”
“Not the only thing…”
“The most important thing, because I love her so, so much, and I can’t bear to see her suffer.”
I reach up to frame his one-in-a-million face and bring him down for a kiss.
As he has been throughout my recovery and treatment, he’s super gentle with me and touches me only with the utmost reverence. “Thank you for being my rock through it all.”
After his initial freak-out, he’s never wavered in his devotion to me and the kids.
“There’s nowhere I want to be but wherever you are—and the kids.”
“That makes us very, very lucky.”
“I’m the lucky one.”
“We all are, and we’re going to stay that way.”
As he makes sweet love to me, I’m more content than I’ve been in years, with the future stretching before us with so much hope, love and joy, all things that have been in short supply for both of us since we lost our loved ones.
We shiver as we come together, straining to eke out every ounce of pleasure we can get before the moment passes and we’re left in the cozy aftermath with nothing to do and nowhere to be.
Gage withdraws from me, slides his arms under me, settles me under the covers and then gets in next to me, putting his arm around me. “How’re you feeling?”
“Tired, sore, blissful, relaxed, happy, optimistic.” I look over at him. “Madly in love.”
“I like that last one.”
“I thought you might.”
“I like it the best because I’m right there with you, sweetheart. You and your sweet kids have given me a second chance I never could’ve imagined for myself until you crawled into my bed—deliberately, I might add—and showed me how much living I still had left to do.”
“Are you accusing me of deception?”
“I am. You’re a bald-faced liar, and your pants are on fire.”
