by Jenna Gunn
“So, mozzarella sticks?” Alex calls from another room. I follow the sound of his voice to the kitchen. It doesn’t have a lot of counter space.
Something about the way he’s standing, freezer door open, his shirt sleeves tugged up to his elbows...I feel something primal clawing in the pit of my stomach. I walk toward him. “I’m not hungry for cheese right now,” I say, and my voice comes out low, husky.
Immediately, Alex turns to me, slamming the freezer shut. “Oh?”
I reach out and grab his hands, turning them over in mine. “You absolutely swept me off my feet tonight.”
He steps closer to me. “You haven’t been swept yet,” he says in a low voice. And then he grabs me, lifting me up as I squeal, literally sweeping my feet out from under me. He walks me through his house as I giggle like an idiot and tosses me onto his bed.
“Alex,” I sigh as he crawls onto me.
He pauses. “Wait - is this what you meant? Do you not want this?”
I grab his shirt collar and yank him to me, pressing my lips fiercely against his. He responds just like I remember. I pull away from him. “I’ve been wanting this all night.”
I lay down and look up at him. He grabs his shirt in both hands and pulls, ripping the buttons open in one smooth motion. I can see the bruises on his chest and ribs, his injuries from saving the warehouse workers, and I reach up to gently touch them - he knocks my hands away and lays on top of me, pulling me to him so tightly it feels like he wants to crush me.
“Alex,” I gasp as his hand finds my breasts.
“Raina,” he replies, and I whimper in the back of my throat. He lets me sit up; I yank my shirt over my head and toss it God knows where. He bends his head over my small breasts and kisses the tops of them, gently tugging at the clasps of my lacy bra.
This is all familiar territory. We’ve been in this situation before. But it’s also completely new; this time, when I slide out of my jeans and watch him take off his, it’s deliberate, planned. When I kiss his jawline, his neck, the hollow of his throat, I’m not just desperately seeking a release. When he brushes his lips along the curve of my waist, sliding himself down to kiss along my inner thighs, it’s affectionate. Sure, we may still be hungry for each other, but the context has changed. My shiver at his touch is as much from emotion as it is from the physical sensation.
And now, when he lowers himself between my legs and quests between my thighs, using his tongue to bring me pleasure, it’s slow and sweet, like he’s savoring it. Like his whole purpose is lying flat on his stomach with my thighs clenched around his shoulders. Like his hands were made to squeeze the skin of my hip, his fingers made to tease my nipples.
And I arch into him and slide my hands into his hair. I hear my voice cry out as though from far away. I’m lost in this, the feeling of his warmth, feeling the tide of pleasure build and build until it surges within me, a tidal wave finally cresting to come crashing down on the empty beach. He grunts as my fingernails dig into his flesh, but I have no control over my body as he leads me to my climax, the first of many as an actual couple.
“Alex,” I moan as he backs off, sits up, kisses his way up my stomach and to my lips. If I was lost before, I’m doubly so now. I feel like I’ve fallen blind. I’m a creature of only feelings and touch.
Feeling like jelly, I slide on top of him, feeling the familiar hardness beneath me. His hands grasp my thighs.
“Please,” he whispers. “Raina, please.”
All I know is him. I lean over him and kiss him, breathing in his scent. Our bodies are pressed together. He’s all around me, beneath me, pressing insistently, pleadingly at the heat between my legs. I straddle him and look down like a queen surveying her kingdom. I allow him to guide himself into me, gasp as he enters.
If he was made for me, for this, then I was made to be his, too. I was made to fit around him, to squeeze and contract for him, to glide along him for his pleasure. I put my hands on his stomach and splay my fingers on his abs as I rock back and forth, feeling him swirl inside me with every movement.
He reaches for my hips. I let him guide me, let his hands grasp where he wants. I lean back and allow him to move me. His breath comes out in sharp gasps. I’d forgotten how big he could be, how he fills me.
“Raina,” he says desperately.
“It’s okay,” I gasp. I know what he wants. I’m ready. I’m protected.
“Raina!” he gasps, this time with a different kind of desperation; his tempo increases, and I flow with him. I am flotsam afloat in his sea. I exist for this, and he exists for me, and I relish the feeling of his fingers grasping at my hips as he crashes into me again and again.
He pulls my hips against his and shudders, and I feel it. I feel him finally flow into me. I feel the coursing of his essence. He’s panting; I realize that I am, too.
His muscles ease and relax. I collapse into him, boneless and weak. I’m slick with sweat. So is he. He wraps an arm around me and pulls me close, kissing my lips sweetly, slowly. We say nothing. I hook my arms around him.
We fall asleep. And in the middle of the night, we wake and do it all again.
Chapter 26
The coughs rack my throat and heat up my lungs like coals, but only for a few seconds; when I sit up and breathe in, they fade away as quickly as they came. I’m feeling so much better.
I whip my head around. The space next to me is empty. My stomach lurches. Surely she can’t have gotten cold feet? Not after yesterday? I did everything right!
I clamber out of bed and fumble to tug on some pajama pants. I smell...coffee. I pause and look around at my floor; our clothes are still strewn about. My heart leaps hopefully.
As I head toward the kitchen, I hear crackling and sizzling. I temper my expectations. She cooked me breakfast last time, didn’t she? But as I walk into the kitchen, I’m greeted with a lovely sight.
Raina stands at my kitchen stove wearing the very shirt I wore last night. It’s big on her; the hem hangs down to her knees, and she’s had to roll up the sleeves so much that the fabric bunches around her elbows like water wings. Her curly hair is piled into a sloppy bun at the back of her head, tendrils trailing from it. My heart swells. My arms itch to hold her.
“Raina?” I say.
She turns, spots me, and smiles like the sun breaking through the clouds. “Morning,” she says, a little shyly. She turns back to the stove. “Um, I found some bacon in your fridge. I hope you don’t mind.”
I wander into the kitchen and wrap my arms around her waist, pushing my nose into her hair to inhale the scent of her shampoo. She giggles. She’s so small she almost disappears into my arms.
“Maybe I’ll just have to punish you later,” I murmur into her ear; she squirms pleasantly.
“Lemma cook,” she laughs, and I let her go, heading to my coffee maker.
“What’s on your agenda for today?” I ask her.
“Well, I do have to go home and check on the cats.” She grabs a plate and starts scooping eggs onto it. “I was hoping you’d drive me. Also, I hope you like your eggs over easy.”
“I like eggs any way that I don’t have to make them myself,” I reply, pouring coffee into two mugs. “And I’d be glad to take you back to your place. I haven’t seen Carmen or Monroe in a while; I’ve started to miss them.”
When she doesn’t answer, I look at her. She’s just standing there, smiling ear to ear.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing,” she replies, still grinning; she turns off the stove. “Breakfast is ready.”
We sit down at my tiny round table. I gaze across the table at her as I cut into my eggs. She picks up a piece of bacon and dips it in her yolk.
I could get used to this; sitting across from her in the morning, watching as she fights to keep her hair out of her eyes as she sips black coffee. I think I love her. Do I tell her?
She sets down her mug, yawns, and digs back into her food.
Not yet. I just got her; I don’t want
to scare her already. But as I copy her, dipping my bacon into my yolk, I think about when I’ll be able to.
I bite into my bacon, savoring the strange new taste of it mixed with yolk. It tastes like being in love.
Chapter 27
“I’m home, babies!” I call as I enter my house.
Two loud meows answer me as I stride in. Alex comes in behind me, and Carmen shoots toward him as soon as she spots him.
“Hey!” he laughs, scooping her up.
I smile as I go to check their food bowls - which are empty - and their litter boxes - which are full. Monroe runs into the kitchen when he hears me grab the food bag.
“Uh, Raina?” Alex says uncertainly.
I turn. He’s standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring at my refrigerator and the wall next to it, which are both absolutely covered in multicolored sticky notes.
“What’s up with all this?” he asks.
I pour food into the cats’ bowls. “It’s how I take notes,” I reply, barely moving my hand out of the way before Monroe chows down. “These are all for my next book.”
Carmen wriggles, and Alex loosens his grip so that she leaps from his arms and lands gracefully on the floor. Alex points to one of the notes on which I’ve scrawled a long monologue. “Is this going in there?”
“Possibly. If not, it’ll go in another one. Grab the kitty litter for me? It’s in the pantry behind the food bag.”
He opens my pantry and hauls out the kitty litter. “Savannah,” he reads. “Elizabeth. Minnie.”
“Name ideas for the female protagonist. Help me?”
He helps me take the litter box liners out and dump them. “So, when you started your last book, did your place look like this?” Alex asks, gesturing toward the fridge.
“Oh yeah,” I tell him. I guide the opening of the bag as he lifts the bottom. “My whole apartment looked like it was wallpapered with sticky notes.”
He laughs appreciatively. We move on to Carmen’s box, which is much smaller than Monroe’s. He helps me with hers as well. “So, do you need me to clear out so you can write?” he asks.
“Possibly. As long as you’re not a distraction, I can write with you here,” I say with a grin.
He grins back. “I make no promises that I won’t be a distraction.”
I laugh and head to the sink to wash my hands. He stows the kitty litter for me. It’s really nice to have a strong man around that can lift heavy things, I realize.
“So uh, what’s this about?” he asks, pointing.
I follow his gaze and feel my face heat up immediately. He’s indicating the oversize sticky note on the side of the fridge that says ALEXANDER in all capital letters. It’s underlined three times and highlighted.
I clear my throat. “Well.” I avoid his gaze; he looks somewhere between amused and concerned. “It’s...the name of the male love interest. He’s sort of...modeled after you.”
“Oh?” he asks, and I hear him come closer. “And is the protagonist modeled after you?”
“Well, all my main characters are somewhat based on me, y’know,” I stammer out, trying to look anywhere but him, feeling the heat creep down my neck. “Write what you know and all that.”
“So, a character that’s basically you falls in love with a character that’s basically me?”
I’m still trying to look away, but he’s stepping closer to me. I can hear the smile in his voice. I clear my throat again. “Well - yes.”
“So,” he says softly. I finally turn to look at him. He’s only inches away, his eyes locked onto mine. “Do you think, then, that you could fall in love with me?”
My heart pounds. This is soon, isn’t it? We’ve been on one date - but we’ve had sex three or four times, haven’t we? Our relationship is on such a strange timeline.
Who made up these rules, anyway?
“I think,” I say slowly, putting a hand on his chest, “that I...kind of already have.” I glance up at him.
He’s grinning. He’s so, so handsome when he smiles.
Alex pulls me tightly against him and kisses me, catching me a little by surprise. When he breaks the kiss, he buries his face in my hair.
“I love you too, Raina Groves,” he murmurs.
Epilogue
Why did I choose the medieval period? There are so many things I could get wrong thanks to how it’s portrayed in the media. Do I make sure I’m as accurate as possible? Do I let things be wrong for the sake of the readers’ familiarity with popular themes?
I hear a little chirrup as Monroe jumps onto my desk. He’s looking a little gray around the whiskers nowadays. “Hey, boy,” I sigh, pulling him into my arms. I plant a kiss between his little ears. “Not getting into any trouble, are you?”
He meows in reply, and I know it’s a no. He’s really mellowed in his old age. He can’t keep up with Carmen’s shenanigans anymore.
“Babe!” calls a voice from the living room. “Take a break! It’s been five hours!”
I roll my eyes. Surely it hasn’t been that long. I glance at the clock on my computer.
Oh. It really has been five hours.
I brace myself on the arm of my brand-new office chair, a gift from my husband, and push myself arduously to my feet, keeping Monroe in one arm. I pass the boxes stacked in the hallway; Monroe leaps onto a stack of them and bounds away.
The living room is littered with more boxes, all labeled with things like kitchen and bedroom. We’ll be ready to move into the new house soon.
In the middle of the room where the coffee table once was, Alex - my husband - stands over a cardboard box, carefully arranging tiny, squeaking kittens. He got us into fostering cats not too long ago, and this one was pregnant when she arrived.
Just like me. I set my hand on my huge belly, where the twins are growing.
“Hey, babe,” Alex says as he spots me. I waddle toward him; he grabs my hand and pulls me to him, planting a kiss on the top of my head. “You need to be more careful about taking breaks.”
“I know,” I sigh. He takes his free hand and rests it on my belly. “Where’s Carmen?”
“Hiding. She doesn’t like the kittens.”
I laugh and look down into the box. The white, long-haired mother cat lays on her belly while six multicolored kittens push near her, trying to suckle. I reach down and give her a little scratch behind the ears. “Poor mommy.”
“Aren’t you glad you’re not a cat?” Alex asks.
“I might as well be,” I retort. “I’m having a whole litter.”
Alex laughs. “Sorry. Twins run in my family.”
We gaze down at the box of wriggling kittens. Alex pulls me into him, stroking my belly. We haven’t picked out names for our babies yet, but whatever we name them, I know they’ll be happy.
Just like we are.
Also in This Series
Billionaire’s Bun in the Oven
The Fireman I Loved to Hate
The Neighbor Wars
Book 4- Release Date To Be Announced
Book 5 - Release Date To Be Announced
The Everything For Love Series is a new series by Jenna Gunn. Look for 5 books total in this fun, steamy, romantic comedy collection by Fall of 2020. All of the books have a pet as part of their central theme. You’ll love these furry friends and their fun owners.
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Billionaire’s Bun in the Oven
(formerly published as Everything Delicious)
Is a standalone and book 1 in the Everything For Love Series by Jenna Gunn
A Pet Lover’s, Enemies to Lovers Romance, Second Chance Romance.
As the owner of Sweet Thing bakery, sweet is my business s
o I know a little something about delicious...
Then I discovered that licking, sucking, and riding one ripped Billionaire could make me forget all about dessert!
Who needs dessert, right?
Just when I thought it couldn't get any better than the deliciousness of his confections... I mean affections, I discovered we had an unexpected little honeybun in the oven. Suddenly life felt extra sweet!
Until it didn't.
Unfortunately, I know sour when I taste it too.
I lost my sweet tooth for the Billionaire who broke my heart, lied to me, and nearly my ruined newly flourishing bakery business.
Now I don't give a hoot about his Southern charm, his hot body, his fancy Charleston penthouse, or the fact that he's the father of the baby I'm carrying.
He's off the menu...for good!
But, he has something else in mind, with all sorts of tricks up his sleeve for igniting my sweet tooth again....
Everything Delicious will have you craving the sweet things in life. A fun, steamy love affair set in Charleston, South Carolina, This book features a hot billionaire, a clever Pastry chef, an adorable emotional support dog and lots of fun. No cliff hanger, no cheating, Billionaire, hidden pregnancy, second chance, Happily Ever After (HEA) romance.
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