“Have I told you how much I love your new hair?” he says, threading his fingers through the long silky wavy strands cascading over my shoulders.
I grin. “You might have mentioned it a time or two.” I wanted to go full lavender, but the hairdresser said that will take a few trips to accomplish, so we started with some lavender highlights today which she will gradually build upon until my hair is completely transformed. After years of wearing it dark, I’m excited for the change.
“You are stunning,” he adds, and my heart melts. “With every passing year, you get even more beautiful.”
“Or it could be your eyesight is getting worse,” I quip, running my hands through his dark blond hair. Saint wore his hair cropped for years, but he’s let it grow out now, and I love the mess of waves tumbling onto his brow. More for me to grab when we’re in the throes of passion.
“There is nothing wrong with my eyesight, queenie.” He flattens his palms over my ass, squeezing. “You’re fucking gorgeous, and we’re lucky bastards.”
We move as one, our lips colliding in a passionate kiss I feel all the way to the tips of my toes.
Saint has made a huge effort this week to prove his words from last weekend weren’t thrown out in the moment. Every day, he’s sent me flowers. My office at work resembles a florist. Then he booked Jazz and me in for a mani and pedi this morning along with a trip to the hair salon where I decided on a whim to dye my hair.
My other husbands haven’t seen it yet since Saint picked me up from the hair salon and we drove straight here.
“I won’t disagree with you,” I tease, grinding my hips against his as he continues kneading the cheeks of my ass. “I am a fucking catch.”
“And still so humble,” he quips, thrusting his hips against mine.
Desire powers through me, and I slam my lips against his, devouring his mouth. I have missed kissing Saint. Missed feeling his tongue tangling with mine. Missed feeling the intensity of his love. He has made it a point to kiss and hug me every day, showering me with affection, and it’s amazing how quickly things are returning to normal. Thank God, because I have missed my possessive alpha male like crazy.
Saint breaks our kiss, rubbing his thumb along my lips. “This mouth.” His eyes darken with liquid lust. “I fucking love this mouth.” He pecks my lips quickly. “And I have plans for it later.” He winks, and my body floods with desire. “But right now, you need to get dressed, or we’ll miss our dinner reservation.”
Taking me by the hand, he leads me inside. The cottage isn’t huge, but it’s big enough with a large open-plan living space facing French doors that opens out onto the wraparound deck. At the front of the property, there are two bedrooms, both with king-sized beds and en suite bathrooms.
Saint leads me into the main bedroom, and my eyes pop wide at what is waiting for me on the bed. “You are really spoiling me,” I say, striding toward the pretty dress laid out for me. “Anyone would think it’s my birthday.” I toss a quick smile over my shoulder, suffused with love for him. My fingers skim over the soft material of the dress, admiring the beautiful pink, purple, and silver floral print overlaid on top of the pristine white silk. I hold it up against me, glancing at my reflection in the mirror. “It goes perfectly with my hair,” I muse. Happiness bubbles underneath the surface of my skin, and my heart soars.
“Do you really like it?” Saint asks. “I roped Jazz into helping me, but I wasn’t quite sure if it was your style.”
I know what he means. I don’t usually wear something so vibrant, but it’s absolutely gorgeous and it’s Dior, so what’s not to like?
Saint leaves me to get dressed, and I feel like a million dollars when I step out onto the deck an hour later, wearing my new dress and silver stilettos. “What do you think?” I ask, twirling, the silky material swishing around my hips and my calves with the motion. The dress is a halter style at the top with an empire waistline, and the skirted part flows down my body, ending with a hem of differing lengths. It feels gorgeous against my skin, and it’s summery and elegant without being too over the top.
“Fuck me.” Saint’s gaze lingers as he roams the length of my body. “Why did I think it was a good idea to go out to eat?” he murmurs, stalking toward me with intent.
He looks hot in his black short-sleeved button-up shirt and ripped jeans, with a stylish layer of stubble on his chin and cheeks, and his untamed hair tumbling in sexy waves over his brow. His gorgeous blue eyes scream possession as he sweeps me into his arms. “I love this dress, but I really want to rip it off and worship every inch of your bare skin.”
I plant my hands on his shoulders, inhaling the spicy, musky scent of his cologne. I fucking love how good he smells but not enough to say to hell with our plans. I don’t want this weekend to be all about sex. Not when that’s all our relationship has been about these past few months. I want to enjoy time with him outside the bedroom. To laugh and have fun and just enjoy being with my husband. “You can take a rain check because I’m all dolled up now and raring to go.”
“I’ll be calling in that rain check later.” His eyes blaze with heat as he releases me, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket.
“I’m banking on it.” I deliberately lick my lips and thrust out my chest, planting one hand on my hip and striking a pose.
“I need to take a photo for the guys. They will kill me otherwise.”
I offer up my most seductive pout, angling my body in a few different poses while Saint snaps away.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” Saint says, swiping his fingers across the keypad. “The guys will go crazy when they see these.” He shoots me a smug grin, repocketing his phone and offering me his arm.
I’m sensing ulterior motives, and it’s classic Saint. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” I ask, looping my arm through his.
“Nope.” He chuckles. “I still love rubbing their noses in it.”
“You’re so competitive.” I nestle into his side as he leads us down the steps and around the side of the house. “But I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
A half hour later, we are in a fashionable bar and grill, seated beside one another in a velvet-backed booth, as sultry beats reverberate in the background. “This place is awesome,” I admit, taking another sip of my champagne cocktail.
“I thought you’d like it better than the Michelin-starred restaurant I almost booked.”
I’m sure the food is exquisite if it’s a Michelin-starred restaurant, but this place is more my vibe. “You did good, Saintly.” I plant a lingering kiss on his cheek. “You did real good, and you’re so getting laid later.”
A warm hand lands on my thigh as he leans in, pressing his mouth to my ear. “I hope you weren’t planning on getting much sleep because I want to reacquaint myself with every inch of your body.”
I cup his face in my hands. “That is music to my ears, Saintly.”
“Speaking of music…” Saint gently removes my hands from his face, entwining his fingers through mine. “Dance with me?” He arches a brow.
“I would love to.” It doesn’t matter that there is no one on the small dance floor at the rear of the bar or that everyone looks at us as Saint leads me to it because, for me, no one else exists but the man staring at me like I’m his everything. Saint twirls me around, dips me down low, and cradles me close as he unashamedly grinds his hips against mine, and we laugh and kiss as we dance, oblivious to our surroundings, only stopping when the waitress informs us our food is at our table.