Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“You expect me to keep it looking like that?” I asked. “I mean, it’s nice and everything, but not sure I’m into the, ah, fluffing and all.”
She shook her head and chuckled. “I am quite certain this is the only time I’ll see it this way. Let me enjoy it.”
I hid my grin as I tackled her onto the mattress, looming over her. “I like how it looks now,” I said. “With you on it.”
She giggled, pushing at my chest. “You are messing up all my work.”
I lowered myself on top of her, our chests pressing together. My weight sank us lower into the fluffy bedding and the mattress underneath. “What can I do to make it up?” I asked.
Her eyes darkened. “Kiss me,” she whispered.
I didn’t have to be asked twice. I dropped my head, our mouths meeting. Her lips were soft and pliable. Full. They opened for me with a flick of my tongue, and I sank my tongue deep into her sweet mouth. She wrapped her arms around my neck, kissing me back. Her sweetness filled my senses, drenching me in her scent. Her taste. The feel of her fingers in my hair. The way her body felt underneath mine.
Then her phone rang out, the sound of it loud in the room. We broke apart, breathless and startled. I was amazed how quickly I lost myself with her. How easy it was to do so. I rolled off and handed her the phone from the table, helping her off the mattress as she answered the call.
“Hey, Mom.”
She leaned against the dresser, watching me, amused, as I straightened the bedding. Ineffectually, I might add. She made it look so easy. In fact, she hip checked me out of the way, and in a few quick movements had the bed righted, the corners neat, and the pillows tidied. All while speaking to her mom.
“No, he likes the stuff. Honest,” she said into the phone. “And I love mine.”
Her bedding was much more girly than mine. There was even lace on the top sheet. She informed me I was a heathen not liking top sheets. But I found them constrictive and too much. All I needed was the comforter, and I didn’t want to tell her that was a first for me. Usually, it was just a blanket. I looked at the room with the bedding in place. It looked like a real bedroom. In a home. I felt an intense satisfaction when I realized this place was home now. Hannah was here. With me. Really with me.
Soon, I hoped this would be our room. So, whatever she did that made her happy, she could do. I might draw the line at the lacy sheets, though. I had to put my foot down on that one.
I mean, a man had to do what a man had to do.
Unless it was a deal-breaker.
Then, I supposed, I could live with it as long as it meant she was in my bed.
I tried not to laugh at the voice in my head calling me pussy-whipped.
It was right.
I was.
The rest of the day was spent in what felt like an odd sense of normalcy. It reminded me of being at Maxx and Charly’s place on a Sunday. Everyone was laid-back, there was a game on TV, and Charly puttered around, sitting on occasion, snuggled into Maxx’s side, then heading to the kitchen or going outside with one of the kids. Folding laundry, laughing, and teasing. It felt like what I imagined a real home was like. And today, I was experiencing that here. Laundry, cooking dinner, watching TV with Hannah. Talking about the week ahead. Planning a barbecue once the deck was done. Cooking side by side in the kitchen, listening to her enthusiastic ideas when I mentioned upgrading the kitchen. Her little sketches on Post-it notes made me smile. Later, we sat on the sofa watching a movie. Her head began to droop, and soon it settled on my shoulder with her curled into my side. I finished watching the movie, my arm draped over her knees, holding her close. When it was over, I carefully stood, hating to wake her. I scooped her up and carried her down the hall, regretfully taking her to her room and setting her on the bed. She woke up, bleary and confused. “Bedtime, Hannah,” I whispered.
“Okay.”
I pressed a kiss to her head. “I’ll see you in the morning. Sleep well, baby.”
I hated leaving her, but I changed and brushed my teeth, sliding into my new bed with the soft sheets she had bought me. I left my door open, worried about the fact that with everything we talked about, Hannah might have nightmares, and I wanted to hear her. I lay there for about half an hour, sleep eluding me. I was staring at the ceiling when I heard the creak of the floors in the hall. Hannah hurried across my room, sliding into bed and tucking herself against me. I slipped my arm around her, holding her close. “What’s the matter?”