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And he’s all I want to think about once he’s home.
“Lasagna, check. Bread, check. Salad and cake, check.”
I’ve managed to get all my work done, get food ready, and get the cake baked and frosted, all before Ike gets home.
It’s good that I had so much to do because I’ve been a ball of nerves. Excited nerves, but still.
Now, he just needs to get here.
For the sixtieth time, I walk to the front door and stare out the window, and finally, headlights beam up the driveway.
“Yay!” I fling the door open and do a little cha-cha on the threshold. Ike steps out of the passenger side, and I see one of his teammates in the driver’s seat. They say something to each other, exchange a fist bump, and then Ike takes his bag out of the back seat and turns to walk toward me.
I don’t wait for him. I just run down the steps and leap into his arms.
I hear the thud of his bag hitting the pavement and the car leaving down the driveway, but all I can feel is Ike.
“I’m so glad to see you,” I say into his neck as I cling to him.
“This is the best homecoming I’ve ever had.” I can hear the smile in his voice, and I lean back so I can see him. “Hey, sweetheart.”
“Hey. I’m glad you’re home.”
“I figured.” He kisses me now, long and slow. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“Come on. Let’s get you inside and settled.” I reach for his bag, but he shoos me out of the way and takes it himself. “You didn’t take much for being away a week.”
“I had to do laundry twice,” he says with a laugh. “I definitely should have planned better. Something smells really good in here.”
“Lasagna’s in the oven, ready whenever you are. I even baked a cake. I had some nervous energy to get rid of while I waited for you.”
“I’m starving,” he says. He hasn’t stopped touching me, and it’s like a balm to my soul. “But will it keep long enough for a shower?”
“Sure. Go ahead, and I’ll set the temp on low.”
He sets off upstairs, and I hurry to the kitchen to make sure that everything will keep for another thirty minutes or so, and then I race after him.
If he thinks he gets to take a shower alone, he’s got another thing coming.
The water’s already running in the bathroom. His bag is open on the bed, and when I walk into the bathroom, Ike’s just putting away his toothbrush.
“I always feel gross after riding on an airplane,” he says and then turns to me. I thought we might have playful sex in the water, but I know now that’s not what he needs.
So, I walk behind him and kiss his shoulder before nudging his shirt up and over his head, then tossing it in the nearby hamper.
There won’t be any clothes-tearing, desperate, hurried sex this time.
No, I’m going to take care of him. I’m going to love him.
With my eyes on his in the mirror, I kiss all over his bare shoulder and reach around to unzip his jeans. He helps me get the denim over his hips and down his legs, and as steam begins to fill the room, he turns to me and frames my face in his hands.
“I missed you so fucking much.”
I smile up at him and run my hands up and down his sides, enjoying the way his smooth skin and sculpted muscles feel against my skin. “Same. But I’m glad you took the trip.”
“Me, too. I’m glad it’s over. Now I’m here, and I just want to lose myself in you tonight, Soph.”
“Yeah, that’s the plan.”
He kisses me, long and slow, making my toes curl. And when he gently removes my sweater and my leggings, leading me into the shower with him, I don’t object in the least.
We take our time soaping each other up, as if we’re rediscovering each other’s bodies all over again.
But I haven’t forgotten his. I remember exactly how he looks, how he feels, and how he reacts when I touch him.
I kneel before him and watch the water sluice over his perfect body, leaving rivers down his skin.
His cock hardens in front of my eyes, and I can’t resist cupping him in my hands, feeling him.
First, I take my time washing him. I love the way he slips and slides through my hands with the soap, and when I’ve rinsed his skin clean, I lean in and taste him.
He smells of his soap, but his essence is still there, and it turns me on in ways I’ve never felt before.
“Fucking hell,” he groans and leans in to brace his hands on the tile wall. That only makes me feel bolder, sexier, and I lick and suck, pull and entice until he suddenly swears again and pulls me to my feet.
