Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
“Copy that,” he shouted from the bathroom.
I grinned and climbed into bed.
“Babe?” Eric called from the bathroom.
“Yeah?” I called back.
“Just closing the loop, I’m falling in love with you too.”
That gooey feeling suddenly overwhelmed me, and straight up…
I didn’t mind at all.
“Okay then!” I shouted in reply. “You win. We can have gentle sex.”
Henny jumped up on the bed and had a sniff around.
I watched him and thought Eric and I were wrong.
Life wasn’t good.
Oh no.
It was awesome.
Eric showed at the door to the bedroom and leaned against the jamb wearing only his cargoes and holding my tub of moisturizer in his hand, his magnificent chest on display.
“Too late, babe. The decision was made. We’re fucking,” he said.
Oh yeah.
Life was awesome.
TWENTY-SIX
CHRISTMAS BLESSINGS
Eric rolled us from missionary to cowgirl, except once he got us in that position, he angled up and swung my legs around him so we were in lotus.
As I moved on his cock in his lap, I watched as he glided his hands over the silk at my sides, his head angled so he could see them roam.
That day, out shopping with the girls, I’d found a humdinger of a nightie. And I believed him when he said it wasn’t about the nighties.
Still, he seriously dug the nighties.
He tilted his head back to look at me, and I had no more thoughts about nighties.
As was becoming us, he didn’t need to say anything. I didn’t say anything either. But I hoped like fuck my expression was communicating the same thing his was.
I would know it did when he slipped a hand up my spine, into my hair and tipped my head down for his deep, wet, thorough but still tender kiss.
Last night after the whole thing went down, we fucked.
Tonight, we were oh so totally making love.
And honestly?
I had no preference. I adored doing both with him.
But right now, this was giving me life.
It was about him, me, kissing, intimacy and connection.
So many kinds of connection.
The orgasm Eric eventually gave me was slow in coming, and not explosive when it arrived. It was sweet and sultry and lasted a really long time.
After I had mine, and then watched Eric have his, he shifted me to my back in the bed with him resting down my side, his long legs tangled with mine, and his eyes went back to his hand which was skating over the charcoal gray silk at my belly.
“Admit it, Turner, it’s partially about the nighties,” I teased.
His gaze came to me, lazy and sated and so fucking bedroom, I felt an orgasm aftershock.
“You outdid yourself, sweetheart,” he replied.
I smiled.
“But…pink?” he asked.
“Pink?” I asked back.
With the very tip of his middle finger (yep, another aftershock), he traced the delicate lace at my bodice. It slashed a bit into the cleavage at an angle under my breast, and it adorned my left hip just at a little slit with the lace riding up nearly to my waist.
“This lace is pink,” he said.
I frowned. “It’s neutral.”
He looked to be fighting a smile. “It’s pink.”
“I don’t wear pink,” I declared.
Clearly not in the mood to fight over stupid shit, he said, “Okay.”
Though he said it in a manner where two things were clear. One, he didn’t want to fight over stupid shit. And two, he was humoring me.
I was saved from a retort by Henny jumping up on Eric’s bed.
My cat (or I liked to think of him as our cat) spent the day with his daddy at his daddy’s house.
Before this happened, Eric and I had had a half an hour discussion about it, along with us both huddling over my laptop researching articles about stressors for cats, and if we should move him to a new location so soon.
Everything said no. But in the end, since Henny would be going back and forth anyway depending on where Eric and I would be for a night, we decided to give it a go and see how Henny responded. If he seemed to have an adverse reaction, Eric would just bring him back and hang with him at mine.
Henny, who’d lived a bumpy life and sensed accurately that rough ride was over, took it in stride.
Best.
Cat.
Ever.
I’d spent the day helping Harlow pack then out shopping with the girls.
Eric had spent the day with Henny, leaving him only to head back to the pet store to double up on bowls and toys and litterboxes.
Best.
Guy.
Ever.
After Henny checked we were okay, he collapsed on a hip, lifted his hind leg in the air, rested his front paw on his side then commenced cleaning his belly.
As for me, I used a finger to slide Eric’s hair off his forehead (it just dropped back, but whatever) and regained his attention.
“You think Homer’s doing okay?” I asked.
His gaze softened (or it did this more, it was already soft and warm and sweet) and he replied, “Tex visited him today and said he was hanging in there. And Tex wouldn’t lie. So…yeah. I think he’s hanging in there.”