“Again, not a threat. You have to come up with—”
I cut her off with my lips, backing her up until she’s resting against the side of the car. I tilt her head and run my tongue against the seam of her lips, begging her to open for me. She obliges. I sweep my tongue inside, melding it with hers. I study her mouth with mine, learning every inch of it, just in case I missed something before. I kiss her until I’ve wormed my way into her heart, into her soul. I kiss her until she’s writhing against me, until she’s begging me for more. She moans and it vibrates my mouth, my head, my heart. Every particle inside me expands until I feel like I’m going to burst with need.
I know, Haley. I feel it too.
Peeling my lips from hers, I drag them across her cheek, over her jawline, and straight to that spot below her ear she loves so much. I suck on her skin lightly then bite down, only to swipe my tongue against the sting. She gasps and presses in for more. I repeat the action twice more, and then I kiss my way back to her lips. I want to feel her gasps, swallow her moans, and drown myself in her pleasured cries.
Haley’s hands find my hair and every time she pulls on the short strands, I fall into her farther. I have her pressed so tightly against the car that I’m certain we’ll leave a dent. I can feel her, every lovely inch. I feel the way her hands shake when she inches them from my hair to my shoulders to my chest. I feel the way she quivers whenever I tangle my tongue with hers. I feel it when her resolve turns weak and she starts losing her ability to hold herself up.
Catching her weight, I adjust us until my knee is firmly between her legs. She begins to move, the need to find friction to ease the ache settling between her legs proving to be too much.
I know, Haley. I feel it too.
Our kiss turns fervent, fiery, almost obsessive. I want more. She wants more. We push, pull, and hold on to one another until we can’t any longer, until we have to feel skin against skin.
Pulling back, I gaze into her juniper eyes. In her stare I can see my dock. I can see my rope hanging from the timber pole. Off in the distance is my boat floating gently against the waves. It takes every hit, every push the waves give. Just beyond my boat is another, and suddenly, I don’t feel so alone anymore. I feel hopeful. I can see a future. I can see a love strong enough to withstand the fiercest winds.
I know, Haley. I feel it too.
We never made it to my aunt’s. I called the kids once we pulled into Haley’s apartment lot and told them I couldn’t make it. They understood, but were clearly disappointed. I felt bad, and then my wife kissed me. It was all I could focus on.
After three full days of marriage, we’re finally getting around to discussing our living arrangement—you know, because we’ve basically spent the last three days in bed any time we’re not at work.
And it’s been fucking magical.
Sex is great. It always has been. It’s always felt good and has been something I enjoyed.
But I’ve never loved sex. Now, I do. I feel it in a way I never have before.
In my head.
In my heart.
In my soul.
And it’s all because of Haley.
Even when we were just friends, she did something to me. When we started sleeping together, she did a little something more. When we became official, another piece of my hard exterior was chiseled away. But when we got married? She might as well have taken C-4, carefully stuck it to the remainder of the wall I wore, and blown that fucker to bits, because only then did I finally feel free.
“Are you sure you’re okay with moving in here, or do you want to look for something of our own?”
“I can always move in here for the time being and then we can look for something new later on.”
A small voice nags at me. Us needing a bigger space is inevitable if everything goes as planned with the kids.
Okay, hold the phone. I know what you’re thinking here. Why haven’t you told Haley about your plans? Because I don’t want to jinx them, or even worse, get her hopes up—get my hopes up. I can’t handle a disappointment of that magnitude. So, I’m keeping quiet until I’m certain things are leaning my way.
“Deal.”
“Deal.”
“Hey, Gaige?”
I lift my face from the bowl of ice cream I’m currently working my way through. “Hmm?”
“How come you never told me about your siblings?”
“How come you never told me about your cancer?”
“Ouch.”
I grimace and give her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”
She nods and focuses her attention on her own bowl of ice cream. Her lips purse together like they do when she’s concentrating extra hard. Pushing around her rapidly melting bowl of Rocky Road, she sighs.
“It’s not something I like to focus on. It doesn’t define me, you know? It’s a part of me, or at least it was, but it’s not me. I don’t see why it matters.”
“Probably because you can’t have children.”
“I never said that. I said it’d be a damn near miracle if I carried to full term.”
“Haley.”
“Gaige. Really. I just want to move on from it, and I have. That’s why I don’t dwell on it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she promises. “Now, your siblings?”
“I told you: it’s because I was ashamed. I stand by that.”
“Of them?”
I throw her a look. “No. I’m mortified by what I did to them.”
“Leaving them?”
“More than once,” I say, nodding solemnly. “It’s the most shameful thing I’ve done. I hated them. When Gia was born, I genuinely hated her. She turned my parents into these creatures I hardly recognized. They loved her, instantly. They never once loved me. When the announcement of the twins came along, I rejected them altogether. They didn’t deserve that, and I don’t deserve them.”
“Gaige, you were young.”
“That’s such a bullshit excuse. I knew right from wrong. I chose wrong. Always.”
She pushes around another spoonful of melted goodness and mumbles, “Fair enough.”
Standing, she grabs her bowl and mine, dropping them off in the kitchen before coming back out and throwing her legs over my hips, straddling me.
“I love you,” she says quietly. “Even though what happened sucks and what you did was undoubtedly wrong, I still love you. I’m not perfect.” She laughs humorlessly. “Hell, I hid half of Rae’s life from her, if that makes sense.”
“It does.”
She wraps her arms around my neck and leans forward, pressing her forehead against mine, closing her eyes as she speaks. “What I’m saying here is that I don’t care about your past. It’s obvious you have one. You’ve admitted more than once you’ve done some shady shit. You—”
“Shady shit, huh? That feels mild.”
“First, it may be, considering the scars you wear, but I don’t know the extent of it, and it’s okay if you don’t ever want to share it. I trust you. That’s all that matters. Second, shush. I’m talking.”
“I love it when you get bossy.”
“Gaige, shh!”
“Love. It,” I whisper quietly.
I feel her grin. “Even though what happened with your parents is tragic, you were young, just sixteen, and you were suddenly supposed to fall back in with this family you never truly had. I mean, I’m not saying you leaving was right, but it also wasn’t entirely out of left field. It’s okay, Gaige. You made a mistake, kind of a big one, but what’s done is done. Move on. Forgive yourself. Your brothers and sisters clearly forgive you. Move on.”
I lick my suddenly dry lips. “Is that what you did? With your cancer?”
“I had to, Gaige. It was eating away at my body and my life. I saved my body. I had to save my life.”
“Thank you.”
She pulls back and opens her eyes, her mouth open slightly, her lips forming a small o. “For what?�
�
“Moving on. I’m glad I have you now.”
“You do have me, fully.”
“You have me too, fully.” I push down the bile and the lie in my throat, refusing to let either surface. “I love you.”
“I love it when you say that.”
“Have you ever been in love before?” I ask.
“It’s never mattered like this.”
“I love it when you say that.”
Her cheeks flush and she brings her lips to mine, pressing gently. “Thank you for letting me back into your life. I’m sorry I shut you out all those months ago.”
“No, don’t apologize. I wonder if we would have made it this far if you hadn’t. I think…I think we needed a break before we were too far in. It gave us time to just…be.”
“Can you believe we’re married?” she says, her lips so close they’re brushing against mine.
“No, and I think you should know I didn’t go to Vegas with plans to get married. That was…”
“Spur of the moment?”
“Yes. Times a thousand.”
“Why did you ask?”
Confused, I ask, “You mean why did I ask you to marry me?”
“Yes. I’ve never asked you that.”
“You say never like we’ve been married for years instead of days.”
She brings her hand up to her head dramatically. “It feels like years.” I laugh. “No, really,” she insists. “Why?”
I chew on that question for a moment, thinking about exactly why I did suggest getting married, especially since we didn’t have the most stable relationship to begin with.
“I think it was a combination of everything.”
“Everything?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “Your smile, your laugh, your heart. The way you light up the room. The way you make me feel, make my heart do these crazy insane flips every time I see you. It was the way you sneaked up on me, the way I slowly fell for you. It was everything. I just knew. In that moment, in the club, when we said I love you for the first time, something inside me clicked. I saw my future, and I saw you in it. I couldn’t let that get away from me, couldn’t take the chance.”
“A chance,” she repeats quietly.
“A chance.”
“I married you for your abs, just so we’re clear.”
I burst into laughter. “I’m glad we know the truth now.”
“Honesty is the best policy.”
“How teacherly of you,” I tease.
She pokes me and says, “You don’t regret it, do you? Taking that chance?”
“Not for a second.”
I capture her lips fully in mine and kiss her until she believes every word I’m telling her. Pressing back, she tells me over and over again how much she loves me every time her lips fall against mine, with every sigh, with every subtle movement of her hips. She tells me she believes me. She tells me she’s fully on this crazy ride we boarded. She tells me she’s okay, that she’s happy, and that’s all I really want.
After our kiss, we curl up on the couch together. She tucks herself safely under my arm and I hold on to her, protecting her from everything.
“Have you told your dad?”
“Ha! Nope. You can do that.”
“That’s seriously screwed up, Hales.”
She giggles and snuggles into me farther. “He’ll love you. You’ve got this.”
“Is he going to kill me?”
“Possibly.”
“Great. I’ve always wanted to die young.”
“Looks like you’re going to get your wish.”
“You’re so sweet to me. Can’t believe I hooked such a good broad.” She hits me and I let out a yelp as I clutch my stomach. “Ouch! What the hell did you do that for?”
“Don’t ever call me a ‘broad’ again. Got it?”
“Yes ma’am.”
She pats the spots she hit and gets comfortable again.
That night, we fall asleep on the couch. For the first time since we got married, we don’t have sex, but we talk and we learn.
We make love all the same.
“Are we really going to do this?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t we?”
“Because it’s absurd and dangerous. We could get seriously injured.”
“Babe, do you really think we’ll get hurt? Just trust me. Let’s do this.”
“Wait.” She throws her hand up, halting our movements. “Why are you so adamant?”
“It’s going to be sexy, and I love sexy.”
“So you love me?”
“Oh, you think you’re sexy?”
She giggles and pinches my nipple. “I know I am.” With that, she prances out of the bedroom, through the living room, and straight into the kitchen.
Butt. Ass. Naked.
Haley stops in front of the stove, eyeing it carefully. She throws a look over her shoulder. “You sure?”
“Yes, Hales. I’m sure I want to cook breakfast naked with you. It’ll be fun.”
Turning the stove on and grabbing the spatula lying beside the frying pan, she turns, shaking it in my direction. “You make a good argument, but if I burn myself, I’m beating it out of your ass.”
I raise a brow, not the least bit intimidated. “Don’t tease me, Hales.”
She throws her head back in laughter, and I stare in awe.
This moment right here? The one where my wife is standing naked in our kitchen, her light brown hair shining in the early morning light as it lightly brushes back and forth across her ass. The one where her eyes are squeezed shut tightly mid-laugh, her mouth open with a smile. Where the noise coming out of her sounds like fucking magic.
This moment?
It’s my favorite.
I stalk toward her, wrapping my arms around her and spinning her until I can capture her lips with mine, mid-laugh and all. It takes a second for her to react, but when she does, she melts into me. I push forward until her back hits the counter beside the stove. Lifting Haley, I set her on the counter and continue devouring her. She arches her body toward me as I lazily trace a hand up her legs.
“Oh my,” she moans. “I’m so glad we’re both naked right now. No clothes to worry about.”
“See?” I kiss her jaw. “I told you this was a great idea.” Kiss. “I’m a fucking genius.” Kiss.
“A sexy, naked genius.” She squeezes my ass and gives it a hard whack.
“I’m not a kinky sexy naked genius. Simmer down.”
She giggles. “Your hard dick proves otherwise.”
“Fair enough,” I say before covering her mouth with mine again.
I continue trailing my hand up her leg, ignoring the juncture between her legs and dragging it up until I reach her heaving breasts. I cup the right one, dropping my lips from hers so I can suck her pert nipple into my mouth. I love her nipples. Her hands instantly fall to my head, holding me against her chest, telling me she loves the way I love her nipples. Pulling back, I grin up at her and continue my tongue-lashing on her other bud. She moans and writhes and begs for more, and I fucking love every second of it.
I love it when I finally seal my hand over the center of her spread legs. I love it when I map out a pattern on both her lips. I love it when she gasps as I ease a finger, then two into her. I love it when she pushes down for more and begs—fucking begs—me to never stop.
But I love it the most when she falls apart around me.
As soon as I start to drag her from the countertop and rush us both back to the bedroom, she lets out a shriek.
“OUCH! MOTHERFU—DAMMIT! SON OF A BITCH!”
I immediately drop her back to the countertop. She clutches her hand to her leg as I step back to assess the damage. She leans as far away from the stove as possible, lifting her ass off the counter so whatever’s hurting her doesn’t press against it.
“Ohmygod. Ohmygod. Oh my fucking god! Gaige, get me down! Now! It hurts!” Tears pour from her eyes and I stand there frozen, unsure of what to do even t
hough she just told me exactly what to do.
When I don’t move, she yells, “PLEASE!”
Her garbled plea springs me into action and I gently lift her from the counter so her ass doesn’t scrape against it. She starts hopping up and down once I place her on the floor, twirling fast in circles like a dog trying to grab its own tail.
“How bad is it? Ohmygod. Tell me how bad it is!”
I throw my hands out, ceasing her movements. “Babe, calm down. I can’t see anything with you jumping around. What the hell happened?”
“I told you we shouldn’t cook naked! That’s what happened!” She spins around and points to her ass. At the bottom curve of her right cheek is a nasty red burn. Correction: there are three curved burns. “I burned my ass on the stove!”
“How is that even possible?”
“Dammit, I don’t know! We must have moved around too much and when you went to swoop me off the counter I hit it. I mean, it was getting hot in here and all, but I didn’t think it was from the stove. Is it bad?”
I bend down, getting a closer look at it. “I mean, it’s not good.” Standing, I smirk at her. “Your ass still looks fantastic though.”
She whacks my chest. “This is not funny, Gaige Addams! It fucking hurts!”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry, but it’s true.” Her lips twitch and I drag her into my arms, trying to soothe away the last of her tears. “Do you want to go to the hospital? It’s already blistering.”
She cries harder and I take that as a yes.
“Mr. Addams?”
“Yes?”
“You can go on back now. They’re done dressing the burn.”
“How is she?”
The gray-haired nurse smiles. “Embarrassed.”
If I didn’t think my wife would cut off my balls if she ever found out, I’d high-five the nurse for that one. Tipping my head toward him, I mutter a thanks and make my way to her designated area.
I pull back the curtain and give my pitiful-looking wife a sad, sympathetic smile. I kiss her head and smooth back the sweaty mess of hair matted to her forehead. “How’d it go?”
“It hurt like a son of a bitch. I’m mad at you, you know.”
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