by Lacey Black
Jensen smiles when I say the word home. In fact, it feels phenomenal. I haven’t felt at home since I left Rockland Falls. “And I’m damn glad you did,” he says, taking my hand from across the table.
“Kate, look! I made you a turtle playing baseball,” Max joyfully exclaims, holding up his placemat so I can see his drawing.
“That’s amazing, Maximiliano,” I boost, which has the exact results I was hoping for. His young giggles bring a smile to my face, matching those worn by the four-year-old and his father.
“It’s just Max, silly!”
“Well, Just Max, I’m going to hang this on my refrigerator when I get home, okay?”
“And I can come see it, right?”
“Of course you can,” I confirm, ruffling the hair on top of his head.
“Mommy says I’m not supposed to go to your house, but I like going dare. Daddy, can I still go dare?” he asks, his big, innocent eyes full of hope and worry.
Jensen exhales. “Of course you can, Buddy. We’re not going to stop visiting Kate, okay?”
Max seems pleased to hear that and quickly returns his attention back to his coloring. When I glance across the table, I can see the annoyance written all over Jensen’s face. “Everything okay?”
He sighs and whispers, “Earlier this week, she gave me the song and dance about bringing women in and out of his life. I knew immediately what she was getting at, or who she was referring to.”
“Me,” I deduce.
Jensen barely nods his head. “Anyway, she thinks it’s best not to introduce our ‘dates’ to our son, which I wholeheartedly agree. However, I don’t look at you as just a date.”
“No?”
Shaking his head, he answers, “No. You’re more. Always have been.”
I can feel the blush creep up my neck and the grin spread across my lips. “You’re more too,” I confirm as the waitress delivers our plates of food.
Max’s plate is full of chicken fingers and curly fries, which he heartily dives into. Jensen leans over and squeezes a blob of ketchup on his son’s fries and then squirts a little on his plate. Jensen ordered the meatloaf sandwich with fries, while I opted for the grilled chicken wrap and coleslaw.
The four-year-old at the table chats animatedly about his school day, complete with telling about every animal, color, and food that starts with the letter B. Of course, the moment he gets to baseball, his entire face lights up with joy. He tells me all about the game he watched earlier in the week, but quickly jumps into how he’s going to spend the night with his grandma tomorrow night.
I can barely keep up.
Jensen gives me a private smile as his son shares all of the things he’ll do with his grandma. I can’t help but think of all the dirty things I’ll be doing to his dad while he’s away. I should feel horrible for letting those thoughts cross my mind in the middle of a family restaurant, while sharing a bench seat with the four-year-old, but I can’t seem to find the nerve to care. That’s just one more thing I love about the new Kathryn. Old Kathryn wouldn’t have even entertained the idea of sex while at dinner.
“You’re blushing,” Jensen says from across the table, a knowing smile on his face. “Care to share whatever you were just thinking about?”
Leaning forward, I make sure little ears are occupied as I whisper, “I’d rather just show you.”
His eyes flare and his little grin turns predatory. “I can’t wait.”
The rest of the dinner passes quickly. Max makes a decent dent in his chicken nuggets and fries, but ends up taking a handful of both home in a to-go container. Jensen pays the check, even though I offer to cover it, and before I know it, we’re heading out the door.
“Well, I had a great time this evening, Just Max. I hope we can do this again,” I tell him politely, his little hand tucked into mine as we walk down the street to where the truck is parked.
“Me too! Do you want ice cream? Daddy, can we get ice cream?”
Jensen laughs. “I thought you were too full to eat anymore,” he says, setting Max’s leftovers on the toolbox before unlocking the truck.
“I was, but now I’m hungry for ice cream!”
I can’t help but chuckle. When Jensen’s eyes meet mine, his brows raise together in question. “Oh, sorry,” I reply, trying to wipe the smirk off my face. “You know, I could use some ice cream too.”
“Yay!” Max hollers, jumping up and down before climbing into the back seat of the truck cab. “We can share duh white wiff sprinkles, Kate! It’s my faborite.”
“I have a feeling you’re taking sides, Kathryn Ann Elliott,” he says in a low, husky voice. It totally reminds me of sex.
Sex with Jensen.
Sign me up!
“I’m on the ice cream’s side,” I tell him as I climb inside the truck. “Besides, who can say no to vanilla with sprinkles?”
“Yay!” Max bellows from the back.
“I suppose we could stop for a scoop,” Jensen concedes before shutting my passenger door and heading around to the driver’s side. As he slips into the cab, he adds, “But let’s get one thing straight. Neither of you get a bite of my chocolate ice cream with hot fudge.”
* * *
“This is a little weird, isn’t it?” Jensen asks as he sets take-out containers in the picnic basket.
“Chinese food in my new seating area out back? Heck no,” I assure him for the tenth time. I can tell he’s a little nervous to have our first date in my backyard, especially knowing his aunt and uncle could make an appearance at any time. They’re currently at the bed and breakfast with Mary Ann and Max, but that doesn’t mean they won’t pop in at the most inopportune time.
“I’m starting to rethink this. We should have gone out for dinner,” he adds, giving me a worried look.
“No, we shouldn’t. I’m a mess from unpacking the rest of the kitchen today. Plus, watering all the plants. I have dirt under my nails. That doesn’t equal romantic dinner out. That equals romantic dinner in, as originally planned.” I step forward and place my hands on his chest, feeling his strong heartbeat beneath my palm. “Plus, I wouldn’t be able to do this in a fancy restaurant,” I add just before my lips press against his.
“I do like this,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around my waist and forgetting all about our makeshift backyard picnic. When I finally pull away, he says, “I told you I’d water the plants when I got here.”
Shrugging, I grab two bottles of light beer from the fridge and follow him out the back door. “I wanted to do it. I kind of enjoyed taking care of them.”
Together, we make our way through the patio area and around the pool. A big grin spreads across my face when we enter the private area, perfect for reading, painting, or just watching the waves crash along the shore. There are two chairs and a small round table along one side, and still the perfect clearing to bring out my easel and paints.
Jensen gets to work setting the table with the goodies from his basket. The scent of sweet and sour chicken fills the air, making my mouth water. “I’m starving,” I announce as I set the bottles of beer on the table beside each plate.
We both dive in, the sound of the ocean singing in the background. “So how was your day?” he asks.
“Productive. The new paints I ordered arrived today,” I tell him, taking my first bite of shrimp fried rice. I don’t mention I cleaned up the unfinished painting and dipped my brush in some paint, just to see if I still had the desire.
“Great. Now you can get back to doing what you love.” His blue eyes sparkle against the fading sunlight and the smile he gives makes my panties a useless pile of material in less than four seconds.
“After I finished organizing the kitchen, I unboxed all of the old movies in the entertainment room and put them on the shelves. I’m willing to bet the old VHS player doesn’t work anymore, but I can’t seem to part with the movies. There are so many Disney ones I watched a million times as a kid,” I recall, remembering how my mom would turn on a movie to k
eep me entertained while I was young. It wasn’t until I was approaching my teenage years that I was forced to put away the childish movies and attend all of their fancy dinners. They were horrible. Arrogant men and their uptight wives. Well, sometimes it was their wives. I do recall a few girlfriends in attendance every now and again, but no one ever talked about that, and questions were never asked, especially by a child.
“Tomorrow we’ll tackle the library office. Together.”
Finishing off a good portion of my plate, I reply, “I appreciate that. I’m afraid there are years’ worth of unnecessary paperwork in there we can pitch or burn.”
“I can light up the new stone firepit,” he agrees. There’s something about a man and fire that gets them all sorts of excited.
“That would be helpful, I’m sure.”
After dinner is finished, I stand up to gather our empty containers and dirty dishes. “I got it,” Jensen says, taking the trash from my hands and tossing it in the basket.
“You don’t have to clean up too. I’m more than capable of helping,” I argue.
Jensen stops and comes around the table. He places his big hands on my upper arms, my body practically humming just with the slightest contact. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you go inside and throw on a swimsuit. The water is perfect.”
Excitement races through my blood. I used to love to swim in the pool when I was younger, but admittedly, haven’t had much of a chance in my adult years. And even though the pool was just fixed and filled this week, I have yet to dip so much as a toe in the warm, crystal blue water. “Do you have a suit?”
His eyes dance with something on the naughty side. “I do,” he says, low and husky, like lightning striking the apex of my legs. “I’ll get this cleaned up while you change,” he says, turning me toward the house. With a light slap on the ass, he sends me away to change into my bathing suit.
When I reach the house, I practically sprint up the stairs. My houseguests are gone, so I go straight for the suit that is sure to make Jensen’s mouth water. Two years ago, Charles took me to Fiji for a week and I bought this suit on a whim. When I got there, I didn’t have the guts to wear it, but now?
Now, I’d wear just about anything for Jensen. Or nothing at all.
I slip the lavender two-piece on, tying the two strings behind my neck. Opting to leave my swim wrap in the drawer, I head out of the bedroom, stop in the hall bathroom to grab two beach towels, and return to the backyard in under ten minutes. When I approach the pool, I find Jensen wearing swim trunks and skimming the top of the pool. The moment he looks up and sees me, I feel his appreciation as if it were a hand caressing my very bare skin. Usually, I’d feel completely exposed in such a skimpy little bikini, but not now.
Not with Jensen.
I feel liberated.
I feel sexy.
And if the way his eyes are devouring me are any indication, I’d say he definitely agrees on both.
“Jesus, Kate,” he says, finishing the job before taking the skimmer over to the pool house and clipping it on the rack outside. “That suit should be illegal.”
“This ol’ thing?” I ask, running my hand along the small lavender triangles that barely cover my girls.
“Something tells me that isn’t so old,” he replies, heading my way with the approach of a jungle cat. I can see it in his eyes. He’s about to devour.
Deciding to play a little hard to get, I dip my toes in the cool water. The pool is temperature controlled, and on a warm day like today, the cooler water definitely is refreshing. Before Jensen can get his hands on me, I throw an ornery grin over my shoulder and jump into the pool. The water envelops me, the force of my fall pulling me under, but I don’t care. It feels amazing.
The moment I surface, I hear a splash. As I wipe water from my eyes, strong arms wrap around my waist and pull me into slick, warm flesh. My legs instantly snake around his hips, the hard erection between his legs pressing against where I want him most.
“This is the sexiest suit I’ve ever seen,” he whispers, trailing a finger down my breastbone and between my cleavage.
“I’ve never worn it before,” I admit, grateful to have taken the plunge, both figuratively and literally.
“I’m glad no other asshole has seen you in this but me, Butterfly. I’m not sure I’d be able to handle watching other guys drool all over you,” he says, his finger toying with the string that connects one triangle to the other.
Rolling my eyes, I reply, “I don’t think you’d have to worry about that.” No one has ever looked at me that way. No one but Jensen.
“Bullshit. You’ve fucking gorgeous, Kate. The sexiest woman in the world.”
“You’re sweet, but even I know that’s not true. There are many beautiful women in the world, Jensen.”
“And I’m the fucking luckiest asshole ever because you’re mine,” he practically growls moments before his mouth descends onto mine.
This kiss is everything.
It’s fierce and passionate.
A declaration and a promise.
His tongue glides easily against mine as my fingers slide through his wet hair. I dig my nails lightly into his scalp, loving the low hum that pulls from his throat. His hands move to my ass, gripping and holding me tightly against his very hard body. I rock my hips, reveling in the way he presses against my swollen clit. I realize I could very easily get off just by grinding against him.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he whispers.
“Not a game. I need you,” I admit, wishing there were fewer clothes between us.
“Yeah?” Jensen slides a hand between us, cupping my pussy in his big hand. “Water’s not exactly the best lubricant.”
“Definitely not,” I reply, remembering how we’d tried many times back when we were younger. It always seemed to make things a little more difficult.
“I have an idea,” he announces, turning and swimming one armed toward the ladder. “Hang on.”
He makes it to the side easily, even with me attached to his front like a spider monkey. I climb up the ladder, Jensen hot on my heels. When his feet hit concrete, he takes my hand in his and pulls me along beside him. I realize immediately where we’re headed.
The pool house.
“It’s probably not in the best shape,” I start to say as he pushes open the door.
Inside, I’m stunned to find the majority of the space cleaned up, or at least, free of debris and dirt. My eyes fly around the room and take it in. I haven’t been inside since I’ve returned home, and for the most part, it’s exactly the same.
Except those doors.
As I walk over to check them out, Jensen releases my hand. They’re beautiful doors that swing both directions. We used to have an old shower curtain that hung from the doorway, but these doors? So much better.
“You did this.” It’s not a question. I already know.
“I thought it was time to upgrade that nasty old curtain.” His reply comes close, his hands slipping around my waist.
“They’re gorgeous.”
“You’re gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” I tell him automatically, a warm feeling spreading through my chest.
“I made a few other changes,” he adds, a tad on the reserved side.
“Show me.”
Jensen moves me into the bathroom where I find a mostly-cleaned space and a new bench. “I thought I’d be a great place to set down clean clothes while you shower, you know? I always hated just setting them on the sink.”
I turn to face him, my heart pounding with the force of a thousand drums. “You made them.” Again, it’s not a question. I can already tell he did.
A blush creeps up his neck. “Uh, yeah. I know they’re not professional or anything, but I figured they’d get the job done.”
He opens his mouth to say something else, but I cut him off with my lips. My hands grip his hair as I practically climb his body. “I love them. Thank you,” I tell him between kisses.
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“If this is the kind of thanks I get, I’ll make you things whenever you want,” he replies, holding onto my ass as my legs wrap around his waist.
“The only thing I want you to make right now is love to me,” I whisper boldly, hoping he won’t notice the way I slipped the L word in there. No, it’s not a declaration, per se, but in a way it is.
Because if there’s one thing I know, it’s I’m one-hundred-percent in love with Jensen Grayson.
Always have been.
Chapter Nineteen
Jensen
My heart trips over itself in my chest when she says it.
The L word.
No, she didn’t just declare her love for me, but still, to hear her ask me to make love to her was pretty much a damn close second. Her legs are around my waist and I’m wishing like hell I would have lost my swim trunks before I picked her up. I’m certain I could work around that tiny scrap of material between her legs, but my trunks will make it more difficult.
Her hands tug at my hair, an electrical shock zaps straight to my cock. I’m so hard and ready for her I’m not sure I can be gentle. But I need to be. Nothing says ‘making love’ like pounding the hell out of her against the wall.
Using the wall for leverage, I’m able to adjust one hand to move those little triangles that cover her glorious tits. Her nipples are hard and my mouth waters for a taste. I bend down and lick, a long moan of pleasure spilling from her lips. Her hips rock against me, my cock ready to burst in my shorts.
Focusing on her nipples, I lick and suck on one, then the other. The closer she gets to coming the faster her hips gyrate against me. “Reach between us and touch yourself,” I instruct without removing her nipple from my mouth.
“What?” she asks, her eyes connecting with mine.