“Oh, I’m not confused.”
Cam rolled his eyes and began unknotting Nic’s tie. “I can’t believe you stole my cat.”
Nic trembled, the brush of Cam’s knuckles against the underside of his jaw more erotic than it had any right to be. Maybe because Nic couldn’t stop thinking about another knot he wanted Cam to untie.
“Well,” Cam said, “he’s half yours now anyway.”
Nic chuckled. “That’s not how community property works,” he repeated for the second time that day.
Cam tugged free the tie, tossed it on the dresser, then stepped chest to chest. He could push Nic’s coat off his shoulders, so slowly, so fucking tempting. “How does it work, Counselor?” he asked, his lips ghosting over Nic’s throat.
Nic had to clear the gravel from his voice before speaking. “You have to commute prior owned property.” Still sounded scratchy. “You have to demonstrate the intent to make the property ours.”
“One, I think we belong to the cat, not vice versa. And two, I can’t rip Bird in half.” Cam shifted a step away to hang up the coat in their closet.
As soon as the coat was secure, Nic tugged Cam back by a belt loop, crashing his back against Nic’s front. Wrapping his arms around Cam from behind, Nic ran his hands down Cam’s torso, slowly, returning to the earlier torture. He began unfastening the buttons of Cam’s dress shirt on his way back up. “Of course not,” he said. “We can’t do that.”
“And I’m never conceding his name is Joe.” Cam’s voice was as low and rough as Nic’s, both of them near panting. “But we can share feeding and litter duties.”
“So generous.” Nic lowered the shirt down his husband’s arms with the same slow reverence Cam had used to remove his coat.
Cam’s head fell back against Nic’s shoulder. “Something else I’d like to share with you.”
“Yeah?” Nic nuzzled behind his ear. “What’s that?”
Cam tilted his ass up, nuzzling it against Nic’s erection. “My cock, after I take that tie off yours and make you come.”
“Fuck, Boston.”
Slow left the building. Nic pitched the shirt toward the laundry with one hand and yanked Cam’s undershirt up with the other, dragging it off over his head and pitching it the same direction. Cam spun in his arms, lips crashing against his, and Nic groaned down his throat, desire pouring out of him. All day he’d wanted this man—a day that had started at the brewery, included a wild car chase, and ended with them married. Finally. As a SEAL, then prosecutor, Nic had experienced more than a few adrenaline rushes in his life, but nothing compared to this day. And all that adrenaline was cresting on a wave of overwhelming joy and blinding need.
Cam must have felt it too, smiling against his lips. “Too many clothes, baby.” He quickly divested Nic of his dress shirt and tee, followed by his belt, and was halfway to his knees before Nic remembered something else he needed to say, the joy he needed to share with Cam out loud. He clasped Cam’s shoulder to stop his descent. “Wait!”
Cam straightened, brows knitted. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is better than I thought it ever could be.” He grasped the heated skin at Cam’s waist and rested their foreheads together. “I just...” Warm hands glided up his chest, fingers fanning out over the myriad of tattoos, giving Nic time and keeping the fire between them warm while he gathered his words and his heart, ready to offer it up on a silver wedding platter to Cam. “I always thought we’d write our vows, but?—”
Cam chuckled, the breath puffing over Nic’s lips. “But our friends hijacked our wedding.” Hands cupping his neck, Cam drew him in for a quick, soft kiss. “What would you have said, Counselor?”
Nic leaned back far enough to see Cam’s face and so Cam could see his. He took Cam’s hands in his and lowered them against his chest. “I would have said that these past two and a half years have been the best of my life. That you are the best part of my life, and you’ve made all the other parts of my life better too. My brewery is better with you, my job is better with you, my family is better with you. My life is better than I thought it ever could be.”
“Jesus, Nic.”
“You, Boston, make me better.”
Using Nic’s hands in his, Cam yanked him forward into a scorching kiss. When they came up for air again, after they’d fumbled out of the rest of their clothes and stumbled back to the bed, Cam stood between Nic’s spread legs. In what was perhaps the most surprising thing of the day to Nic, Cam ignored the tie-wrapped cock straining his direction. Instead, he framed Nic’s face with his hands, and Nic smiled, cheeks lifting and lips curving, chasing more of the gentle, loving touch.
Cam’s thumbs skated over his cheekbones. “I’m glad I broke the rules for you, Dominic. Every single one of them was worth it to end up right here, with you, in our life together. Thank you for always being the rope I needed, thank you for always tugging me back to shore, and thank you for not mentioning Tom Brady once today.”
Nic covered the lump in his throat, the sting behind his eyes, with a watery laugh. “It was really fucking hard.”
“I’m sure it was.” One corner of Cam’s smile hitched higher. He smirked as he lowered a hand off Nic’s face, skirting it down between them, over Nic’s neck, his chest, and around his belly button, a trail of sparks in its wake. A path that caught fire as Cam finally seized one of the silk tie ends and gave it a tug. “But let’s focus on something else that’s hard instead.”
Moaning, Nic held himself upright by sheer force of will, which began to crumble when Cam crawled up onto the bed and forced Nic to scoot back, never letting go of the tie. Cam’s smirk turned positively wicked. “I’m glad you put this back on for me.”
Falling back onto the pillows, Nic gazed at his husband through heavy-lidded eyes as he wound the tie through his fingers. Grew harder with each tiny jerk the motion caused. Nic wanted to feel those deft fingers on his cock. “Please, Boston. I held up my end of the deal.”
“Time for me to hold up mine, then.”
