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“That’s one,” Otto said, kissing my thigh as I stared blearily at the ceiling.

Oh my god. I couldn’t even look at him.

“Now Iknowyou were lyin’ in the Mustang,” he teased as he crawled up my body. “You’re a screamer.”

“Oh my god,” I whispered.

“Call me Otto,” he joked.

I stared at him.

“Feel good?” he asked, leaning closer to kiss me.

“That’s a dumb question,” I muttered against his mouth, making him chuckle.

“It’s gonna feel better,” he promised, moving his hips between my legs.

“I doubt that.”

“Hold on tight, sugar,” he said with a smile, pulling one of my legs over his hip.

He was right. As he slid inside me, this time with nothing hindering his movements and my body soft and pliant, I gasped. It didn’t hurt. Nothing hurt. It feltincredible.

I didn’t come twice like he’d promised the day he asked me to marry him.

I came three times.

“Sleep, sugar,” he murmured sometime later, whipping the T-shirt off my head before pulling me against him. His hand splayed over my bare back as I rested my head on his bicep. I was a little jealous that within moments, his breathing changed as he slept, while I stared at the unlit candles on the dresser, sure I’d never be able to sleep next to him, especially not naked as the day I was born. It made absolutely no sense that he’d taken the T-shirt offafterwe’d had sex.

I realized how wrong I was when I woke up in the middle of the night to Otto’s mouth at my nipple and his hand between my thighs. Sleeping naked was awesome.

Chapter 14

Otto

If I washonest, I wasn’t sure how living with Esther was going to go. I liked her. She was funny, and she made me see stars when we were in bed, but beyond that I’d been a little skeptical. I’d never lived with a woman before and I figured there would probably be a ton of shit that came up while we were trying to get used to each other.

Turns out, there wasn’t. Going from barely knowing each other to living together was surprisingly seamless. It was fucking weird.

We spent the week after the wedding just fucking around and having sex. A lot of sex. We explored the property, and I showed her all the shit I’d done and all the shit I wanted to do to make the place a showstopper. She searched through the kitchen cabinets and laughingly told me all of the stuff I was missing in order to actually cook a full meal. We watched movies. Ordered takeout and ate it at the kitchen table. Rearranged my dresser and closet so she had some room for her things.

We never ran out of shit to talk about. School, our families, memories of our childhoods, favorite foods, the baby, the house, it was getting to know someone in fast-forward and thank Christ, the more I knew about Esther, the better I liked her.

She’d grown up with an abusive dad and a doormat mom, a brother that her parents thought walked on water, and a little sister that was treated like a princess, and she never said it but I had a feeling that she’d gotten a little lost in the middle. Ironically, it may have been the thing that saved her from beingcompletely indoctrinated into their way of life. She’d been able to skate past, quietly making her own decisions and coming to her own conclusions.

I really fucking liked her. So, I was imagining that it would be smooth sailing and I was patting myself on the back when I got to work the Monday after our honeymoon week.

“You’re late,” Rumi yelled as I strode in, practically strutting. Morning sex was a really nice benefit of living with someone.

“Nobody gives a fuck,” I countered, grabbing my coveralls.

“How’d the honeymoon go?” he asked, walking over. “Find out she’s got a tail or anything?”

“Think I woulda noticed a tail the first time around,” I muttered. He was such an ass.

“Come on, baby brother,” he joked, leaning against the car in my bay. “Speak. Was it everything you hoped for? Shit workin’ out?”

“It’s good.” I shrugged.

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