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"Nothing."
"Tell me," he orders.
"It’s—" I swallow. "I’ve never had a flat stomach. I’m not exactly thin."
"You’re perfect."
Tears prick my eyes. "Nice of you to say that, but a size sixteen is not everyone’s idea of beauty."
"It is mine." He leans back so he can look into my eyes. "You are my idea of beauty."
His cock twitches inside me as if to punctuate his words.
"And you call yourself emotionless."
"Except when I’m with you. You get under my skin—with your sweetness, your gentleness, your gorgeous curves, and your beautiful mouth."
"And you don’t like it."
"I don’t." He lowers his head until his mouth hovers over mine. "I love it."
* * *
I walk into Edward’s office and come to a stop. He’s standing at the window, his back to the room, his phone held to his ear. It’s snowing outside. A reminder that Christmas is less than a week away. It’s my favorite time of the year, but in the rush of events that have swept me in their wake over the last few weeks, I haven't been able to focus on it. I have to get him a gift; but he doesn’t believe in Christmas. Did he believe in it when he was a priest? Of course, he must have. Will he ever get over what had happened? I’d like to think last night is an indication that he might.
He came inside me twice, then woke me up, once again, before dawn when he slid inside me. He didn’t seem to be able to get enough of me.
He was so gentle that last time, so tender. He brought me to climax and it almost felt dreamlike, suspended as I was between that half-asleep, half-awake state. He came inside me again, and I drifted off to sleep.
I woke up when he brought me breakfast in bed. He’d already showered and dressed. He kissed my forehead and told me he was leaving for the office. He said I could take the day off, but I wasn’t able to stay away. I wanted to be near him.
Then, there's also the fact that he didn’t take off his clothes when he made love to me. And it was making love. He could call it by another name, but he wasn’t fooling me.
I take in his tall form, dressed, as always, in his three-piece suit. He was dressed in a similar one last night—when Sinclair helped him up the stairs and onto the bed, where he passed out, fully dressed.
I’ve never seen my husband naked. He turns and sees me. His lips curve in a smile, one that reaches his eyes. It lights up his features, making him look so much younger. Is this how he looked before her? Before he left the church? Before the incident?
He pockets his phone and stalks toward me. I’m aware of the answering smile which curves my lips.
He reaches me and takes in my features. "Sleep well?"
"Did you?"
"The best." His smile widens.
"I missed you." I curse myself as soon as the words are out. Because it’s true and because I don’t want to come across as clingy and because… I don’t want him to sense how much in love with him I already am.
A strange expression crosses his features. "You shouldn’t be so open with your feelings," he says in a guarded voice.
I scoff. "I know you missed me, too. Saying it aloud does not mean minimize your standing as an alpha-male."
"Thought you said I was an alphahole?" His eyes gleam.
"And you take it as a compliment?"
"Isn’t it?" He smirks.
Fish on an e-scooter, this is the first time he’s smirked. And it’s hot. So hot, my panties just melted, and I’m wet all over again. Good thing he didn’t use that particular weapon against me earlier or I’d have never been able to resist him. The sun rays glint off his hair, which is so dark, there’s a blue hue around it. His tawny eyes are a brilliant gold. The sense of power that clings to him is so potent, I almost orgasm spontaneously. You’d think having slept with him would lessen his appeal, but it’s only made me even more conscious of how attracted to him I am.
