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“Yes, but the man he is to me is good.”
“So, you forget everything else he does? How convenient.”
I sigh, approaching her. “I don’t forget, but my husband is a product of his circumstances, just like everyone else.”
“You really love him?”
I nod and ask, “How is Cato treating you?”
Too many emotions flash in her eyes for me to set on one. “I’m tired.”
“I love you. You’re my best friend and that will never change.”
She turns to me and hugs me, whispering, “I can’t live like this.”
“Tell me how to help you?”
Her green eyes turn glassy with hope. “Would you?”
“Of course, but if part of you can give this a chance, take it first.”
“Never.”
I leave her alone, wondering what she will decide. I shower and curl into bed on Kieran’s side, inhaling his heady scent. I would have missed what I have with him if I left.
Morning finds me gazing at my husband, his long lashes fluttering awake, and I thread my fingers through his thick yet soft hair.
My heart quivers in my chest as his lips curve up in a smile. I squeal as he flips me onto my back and sets himself between my legs, his mouth on mine, awakening every nerve ending in my body. As if he can’t decide whether to make love to me or fuck me, he switches between the two, his need and passion for me in every thrust, in every moan he elicits from my body.
Kieran rests his forehead on mine and grumbles, “I wanted you all to myself this weekend.”
I will never tire of hearing his need for me.
“They’re our friends.”
“They can be our friends without having to bother us.”
I suppress a smile, gliding my hands down his sculpted chest and ridges of muscles.
“They will be gone on Sunday.”
I cry out when he lifts me up and carries me over his shoulder and into the shower. After we change, we go downstairs.
Tamara has already prepared breakfast in the dining room.
“You would think they were her guests,” he whispers, placing a sweet kiss on my neck, but Tamara hears him.
“Might as well be. You would have already eaten and left them to fend for themselves if it were up to you.”
“They’re old enough,” he grouses, and I force down a laugh. I’m completely mad for this man.
“You’re a poor host.” I giggle and Tamara adds, “You’re no better either.”
We burst into laughter as she fusses around. One second I’m tucked in his lap, the next he places me down and runs up the stairs, pounding on Chiara and Cato’s doors and yelling, “Wake up. My wife is hungry.”
I hide my face in my palms and even Tamara laughs at his actions.
“My boy is in love.”
