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But tonight’s repeat performance?
Chef’s kiss.
I was a genius asking her to put it back on. Totally.
I grinned at the ceiling, knowing I was an idiot, but not giving a fuck because we were happy.
And we were here in this place.
And it was great.
“Joel?” she murmured, burying her face in my throat.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Thanks for a good night,” she whispered on a yawn, pressing a kiss to my jaw.
Yeah.Thiswas exactly where I wanted to be.
“Anytime.” I smoothed one hand over her curls, sat in the silence for a moment before asking, “Rosie?”
“Mmm?” A lazy question.
“How was the rest of your night before the game?” I asked softly, stroking through those silky curls.
“Mmm.” She burrowed closer.
I grinned, taking that answer for what it was, and kept my hand on her ass, but used my other to tug the blankets up and over us. She didn’t move, probably because she was mellow and quiet and sated.
I was sated…sort of. I was here with her and that was great. That was perfect.
Butshe’dgotten off before the game.Ihadn’t before Fox had barged into the trailer and reminded me of the time and I’d had to get dressed, only a handful of strokes away from coming in Billie’s tight pussy. And while I appreciated the reminder—since I sure as shit hadn’t been thinking about hockey right then—I hadn’t enjoyed spending the game in a state of chub.
Now it was after the game and I’d just fucked my woman and she was in my arms, her breathing relaxed, slowing, her mind heading for sleep. I was relaxed, too, but only semi-sated, mostly because I was still riding that post-game high.
In fact, I was ready for another round, eager to expend the rest of my energy, but when I swept my fingers between her thighs, brushed her clit, my Rosie baby sharply smacked my arm.
“I will cut off your fingers if you try that, buster.”
Grinning, I held her closer. “Buster?”
More nuzzling. Her lips hitting my throat. “Shut up.”
“I will.” A beat. “Butbuster?”
A huffed out laugh before she snuggled closer, slinging her arm over my belly. “Mmm-hmm.Buster.”
I grinned again, allowed my body to relax, my thoughts to start wandering. They took their cue and set to drifting, set to wondering, and because I was relaxed and in my happy place, my woman curled up to me, I ended up blurting out a question I’d been thinking for weeks, “When are we going to move the rest of your stuff in, baby?”
Stiff.
All that sated, relaxed woman gone.
“What?” she whispered, pressing a palm to my chest, and pushing up, looking down at me with wide eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you living here,” I said. “With me,” I added, just in case her swirling mind wasn’t clear on that.
Wide, wide eyes. “Um…”
