Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
I liked her like this. Warm. Sweet. Soft. Not talking.
The thought made me chuckle, and she stirred. But she stayed where she was, her cheek on my chest, one arm and leg draped across me. In the past, I’d have found being clung to like that suffocating. And I’d have made my exit from bed long before sunrise. This morning, with Bianca, I was already thinking about being inside her again.
Talk about witchcraft.
“Think we’re expected at church?” she asked, her voice sleepy.
“Probably. And then at my parents’ for dinner.”
She sighed. “Oh yeah.”
I stroked her back, trailing my finger down each vertebra. “I suppose we could skip out. I don’t think anyone would begrudge us a little honeymoon weekend.”
“But the priest is coming for dinner.”
“All the more reason to absent ourselves. My mother will probably try to make him bless us right over the chicken parm.”
“Good point. Let’s play hooky.”
“What should we do instead? What does your perfect Sunday look like?”
“Hmm.” Her hand wandered down my abdomen. “This is a pretty good start.”
“I agree.”
“And then there would be food. Waffles or something. Then I’d probably curl up on the couch with a book and a blanket and some coffee.” She looked up at me. “Am I boring?”
“Yes.”
She smiled. “What would you do with a rainy Sunday?”
“Honestly, I’d probably get under the blanket and try to take your pants off.”
“Aren’t you tired of getting my pants off yet?”
“Is that a real question?”
“Yes.”
I flipped her onto her back and set my hips on hers, my erection caught between us. “Does it feel that way to you?”
She poked my chest. “You said yesterday at the inn you were always hard in the morning. You said specifically it wasn’t about me.”
“That was a lie. It was definitely about you.” I kissed her jaw, her neck and her collarbone, then picked up my head again. “Did you tell any lies at the inn?”
“Hmm.” She thought for a moment. “Yes. I lied when I said I wasn’t staring at your butt. I was definitely staring.”
“I definitely saw that.”
“I couldn’t help it.” She grabbed my butt with both hands. “You’ve got a great ass.”
“The feeling is mutual,” I said. “In fact, I once had this dream where I was chasing you through the house and you were only wearing an apron.”
She giggled. “Did you catch me?”
“Uh huh.”
“What happened next?”
“I don’t know. I woke up and had to jerk off.”
She grinned. “Next time we’ll give it a better ending.”
We eventually made it downstairs, and I made waffles for her. She watched me from her perch on the island, wearing an old Detroit Tigers sweatshirt of mine that was gigantic on her and a pair of tiny little shorts beneath it I couldn’t even see. Her hair was a mess—she’d put it up in a ponytail on top of her head but half of it had escaped and hung around her face.
“What the hell?” I complained, opening drawer after drawer. “I can’t find anything. Where is the rubber spatula?”
She laughed and pointed. “Try the drawer to your left there. I had to rearrange some things yesterday.”
I gave her a look. “You had to?”
“I wanted to. Your system made no sense.”
“It made sense to me,” I grumbled, but I found the spatula in the drawer she’d indicated.
She hopped off the island and wrapped her arms around me from behind. It felt ridiculously good. “Sorry. Want me to draw you a map of where everything is?”
“Never mind. I’ll figure it out.” I watched her refill her coffee cup, admiring her bare legs. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever made breakfast for someone in my kitchen before.”
“No?” She leaned back against the counter, her hands wrapped around her cup.
“Not like this. I’ve never been big on sleepovers, especially at my house.”
“I’m shocked.”
I stirred my waffle batter. “Be nice, or I won’t say the cute thing I was about to say.”
She laughed. “What’s the cute thing?”
“That I am genuinely enjoying having you here.” I looked over at her. “Brace yourself—I think I like you.”
“Ewwww.” She made a face like she was disgusted.
“I know, right?”
“I suppose it could be an okay thing.” She lifted her coffee to her twitching lips. “Since we’re married and all.”
I glanced at the wedding band on my finger. It was still kind of a shock to see it there—but I didn’t hate it. In fact, I thought it was sort of cool.
“Hey, do you think we should adjust our written contract to reflect the eighty-sixing of the no-sex rule?” Bianca asked.
“Um, I’m not likely to forget sex is now on the menu. Are you?”
She laughed. “No. And you were right—the more times we try, the better our chances.”
“I’m always right, babe, so get used to it.” I paused to enjoy her eye roll. “And just to let you know, I was really focused on the task this morning.”