“What are you thinking?” Winter’s voice cuts through my thoughts, and I blink my eyes open to find him resting against the doorjamb, arms folded, watching me. How I didn’t hear him come home is beyond me.
“How do you know I’m thinking? I might just be lying here without a thought in the world.”
The corners of his mouth lift as a smile settles in place. “Angel, you’re never not thinking.”
I run my gaze down his body. Winter has always been good-looking, but every year enhances those good looks. My belly flutters as I take in his muscles that are defined by the black tee and fitted jeans he’s wearing. The ink covering his body—almost every inch of it—also turns me on. Not to mention his beard and dark blond hair that he’s grown out a little. He’s pulled it back today, but a few pieces have fallen out. I want to run my finger down his face and brush those pieces behind his ear.
Needing to touch him, I stand and leave the bath. I move so quickly, without bothering to dry myself, that he’s caught off guard. There’s surprise in his eyes as I wrap my arms around his body, but also pleasure. I hear it in his voice, too, as his hands land on my ass and he murmurs, “Fuck, coming home is always the best part of my day.”
Since we had sex after he came home wounded, we’ve had sex every day, sometimes twice. I’ve done enough research on IVF to know that for many couples, sex can become a casualty of the journey, but I can’t imagine not wanting to be with Winter, and today, that desire is heightened. I woke up reaching for him, and I want him again. And even though his wound is still healing, he doesn’t allow that to stop him when it comes to sex.
Looking up into his eyes, I say, “I don’t want to go to the movies anymore.”
“No?”
I move my hands to his belt. “No. I want you to spend this afternoon fucking me. And then I want you to order dinner in so we can watch a movie on the couch before you fuck me again.”
Heat is a living, breathing thing in his eyes as he takes in what I’ve said, and when he moves into action, lifting me over his shoulder and carrying me into our bedroom, that heat vibrates from him.
Placing me on the bed, he strips, not taking his eyes off me once. They roam my body, lingering on the parts he loves the most, blazing lust along every inch of my skin.
Once he’s naked, he reaches for my ankles and bends my legs up as he kneels on the bed. “You been thinking about my tongue this morning, angel?” He licks the length of my pussy lightly, not even coming close to giving me what I need.
I arch my back as I try to press Winter’s face to me. “Yes, but I’ve been imagining a whole lot more than that.”
His beard to my pussy, and his chuckle, do good things to me, and he delivers pure happiness when he buries his tongue in me.
“Oh God, yes,” I moan, hooking a leg over his shoulders.
My first orgasm of the afternoon comes less than ten minutes later. As I’m losing myself in it, Winter moves up the bed, over me, and brings his mouth to my breasts. “You were ready for me,” he says before taking one of my nipples between his lips.
Threading my fingers through his hair, I agree, “I was.” My man is talented, too, though, and that’s the main reason I came so fast.
He lifts his face and presses his mouth to mine. His kiss is slow to start, a promise of what’s to come, and by the time he deepens it, our hands are everywhere and I’m coming out of my skin. With lust, with love, with way too many emotions I can’t even begin to list.
I place my hands to his chest and push him away before scrambling to get on top of him. “Oh God.” My words are breathless; I’m practically panting with these unfamiliar feelings coursing through me. Something’s not right. I feel off-balance, like my emotions are seesawing all over the place.
Winter rolls onto his back as I climb on top. Confusion flickers in his eyes, but he lets me take over without a word.
“You taste like coffee,” I blurt.
The confusion in his eyes gives way to amusement as he grips my hip with one hand. “Are you good, angel?”
Yes.
No.
Fuck, I don’t know.
Like, what the hell is happening to my body? And my mind! It’s going berserk with far too many thoughts and feelings. And right in the middle of the sex I’ve been craving all day.
Gah.
“Birdie,” he says, snapping my attention back to him. “What’s going on?”
I run my fingers through my hair as I stare down at him. “I miss coffee and you taste like it.” It was one of the things I gave up to help our chances of conceiving, but right now, I’m a little resentful of the fact he’s had some today while I haven’t had any for weeks.
He sits up, his arms coming around me, his eyes searching mine. The love I see in them hits me hard in the chest. This man would do anything for me. And suddenly, out of the blue, a wave of extreme emotion unleashes through me and tears stream down my face.
“Fuck,” he says, cupping the back of my head and pulling me close. “Let it out.”
I sob for a good few minutes, completely bewildered by what’s going on. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. It makes no sense. Ten minutes ago, I was all about sex, and now it’s the last thing on my mind. And why the hell am I crying?
When I get my tears under control enough to talk, I wipe my eyes. Since I don’t actually know what’s going on to be able to explain it to my husband, I start with what I do know. “It was the coffee, I think. That and a million emotions that kissing you brought up. And then when you put your arms around me, it hit me how much you love me and I couldn’t stop myself from crying. It’s dumb, I know—”
“It’s not dumb. It’s the drugs you’re on. You know this.”
“Yeah, I do, but that doesn’t make it easier when it all crashes into me. I can’t just flip a switch and say ‘Oh, that’s just the drugs. I’ll stop feeling these things now.’”
“I know that, but what you can do is acknowledge where they’re coming from and not beat yourself up over them and say it’s dumb to feel them. This is the first time they’ve hit, right?”
“I had a moment earlier. That was the first time.”
“What happened?”
“I practically fired Juanita.”
Full credit to Winter, he doesn’t react to that statement in any way other than to ask, “Why?”
I give him a rundown of what happened and then say, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m a little concerned about running the business while I’m all over the place like this. Do you think I should talk to Cleo about it again?”
“I think you should wait and see how you go before panicking over it. The minute you tell yourself you can’t cope, you won’t. I have faith you’ll manage this well.”
Winter’s firm belief in me causes a fresh wave of tears, and as I sit in front of him incapable of doing anything but riding them out, he gently wipes them away in between kissing me. He then takes me with him when he lies back down, pulling me into his arms and smoothing my hair.
We lie quietly for a long time before I finally lift my head to look at him. “I’m sorry I ruined this afternoon. I had plans for all the ways I wanted us to have sex, but now I just want to lie here with you.”