“Shit.” Henry pulled out of me, tucking himself back in before he turned frantically to find my dress and underwear.
“I thought you wanted us to get caught?” I said, hopping off the desk as he handed me my things.
He glowered at me. “Not in actuality. No one gets to see you naked but me.”
“Caveman,” I muttered as I tugged on my underwear.
“You have no idea.” He started pulling my dress on over my head before I was ready and my arms got caught.
“Jesus,” I laughed. “Henry.”
“Fuck.” He pulled and tugged until my dress was back on. Only then did he slump with relief.
I stared at him, dying to laugh even more. “What was that?”
Looking disconcerted, he snapped, “Apparently, the thought of someone catching us having sex is merely okay as fantasy.”
“Well, the dress is only part of the problem.” I squeezed my legs together. “I need to find a bathroom pronto. To clean up.”
His eyes darkened with desire and the muscle in his jaw clenched.
“What now?”
“I want you all the time,” he grumbled, putting his hand on my back to lead me out of the office. “My cock is going to fucking break off.”
“You?” I huffed. “What about my poor, abused vagina?”
“You weren’t complaining earlier,” he pulled open the door, “when my tongue was on it.”
A throat cleared and we both froze.
Alexa suddenly stepped into view and she looked like she was struggling not to laugh. “I was just on my way to the restroom.”
“You’re alone.” Henry looked around us.
“Now I am. Thankfully.”
“I’ll join you.” I grabbed Alexa’s arm. “I need to use the restroom.”
“Oh, I bet you do,” she muttered.
We strode off together down the hall and I glanced back at Henry.
Love.
There was nothing but love in his eyes.
But something else too.
Longing.
And you could only long for something you didn’t think you really had.
You have me, Henry, I wanted to reassure him.
But will you still want me when you know me? Really know me.
Instead of reassuring him, I faced forward and walked away.
Henry had been gone on a business trip for four days and although we’d talked, I missed him. I missed him so much that I thought for sure when I saw him, those three words he was waiting on me to say would burst out of me.
He was returning on a Sunday, my day off work, so I had plenty of time to ravish the heck out of him when we reunited. I was supposed to be going to his apartment but that morning, there was a knock on my door. When I looked through the peephole, Henry was on the other side.
I threw open the door and jumped him.
To his credit, he caught me and didn’t even groan at the weight of me hitting him. Instead he wrapped one arm around my waist and the other under my ass and walked into the apartment like I weighed nothing.
He laughed while I peppered his lips and face with kisses. “If this.” Kiss. “Is how.” Kiss. “You’re going.” Kiss. “To greet me.” Kiss. “Every time I come back.” Kiss. “From business.” Kiss. “I might do it more often.”
My head snapped back. “Don’t you dare. Ahhh!” I squealed as he pushed us over the edge of the couch and fell on top of me, catching his weight at the last minute.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” He kissed me long and hard until I was panting for breath when he finally let me up for air.
I hugged him hard, every part of me giddy and happy to have him home. “I missed you so much.” God, I loved his face. I loved his nose. His eyes. His smile. I loved, loved his smile.
We cuddled and petted and kissed each other, talking quietly about his business trip and about my week at work until his words grew slower, sleepier.
Lying side by side on my couch, I’d curled my leg around his hip to stop him falling off the narrow space. As he stroked my collarbone, I took note of the dark circles under his heavy-lidded eyes.
“Handsome, you’re so tired,” I whispered.
He smiled wearily. “I am.”
“You should have gone straight to your bed.”
“I wanted to see you first.”
I kissed him softly, grateful for him more than I could say. The truth was that these last weeks with Henry had been the first time in a very long time that I hadn’t felt lonely. Not even a little. “Let me take care of you,” I said, caressing his unshaven cheek. “If you could have anything right now, what would it be? Nonsexual,” I hurried to add.
He smirked, his eyes glazing with exhaustion. “Sunshine, I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I’ve been craving banana bread from Flour,” he mumbled, snuggling into me.
I grinned against his ear. Banana bread was not what I’d been expecting but the bakery was only a twenty-minute walk from my apartment in Lower Roxbury. “I’ll go get you some.”
“You don’t have to.”
I kissed behind his ear. “I want to.”
“Okay. That’d be nice.”
How could this man be so sexy and yet so adorable? I gave him a quick kiss on the lips and climbed over him to get off the couch. He was so out of it, he rolled into the space I’d left. As always, I was overwhelmed by the sheer affection I felt for him. To stop myself from bursting into tears like the emotional watering pot I’d become lately, I dragged the throw off the back of the couch and covered him. Then I removed his shoes and placed them on the floor by the couch.
Less than five minutes later, I was walking out of my apartment on a mission to get Henry’s banana bread.
Cool fall wind whipped my hair behind me and I shrugged the collar of my coat up around my neck. We were having a particularly cold October this year, something my viewers were not happy to hear. They were tweeting me during the show, some pleading with me to give them good news, others cursing me like it was my fault our fall weather was off to a crappy start.
To be honest, I didn’t mind the cold. I hated the wind and the rain but I liked the dry, crisp, cold mornings. Especially if the sun was out like it was today.
At Flour, I was lucky to get the last of the banana bread and I threw in some cinnamon crème brioche for myself, even though I wouldn’t have time to go to the gym today to work them off. Grabbing coffees to go, I could only describe my mood as blissfully content. I was having one of those days where every negative thought was banished under the naïve belief that things could really stay in a suspended state of “fucking great.”
I think I could have gotten through the entire day on that feeling.
But someone else had other plans.
Daydreaming about future Sundays with Henry, I was jolted into reality when I turned the corner off Washington and walked into a solidly built male.
The coffee I was carrying was knocked out of my hands, hitting the ground and splashing over both our shoes and calves. “Shit, I’m sorry,” I gasped, as we both instinctively jumped back.
And then I looked up into his face to apologize again. Fear froze the words in my throat.