“Right now?” She shakes her head in the snow, her beanie sliding up past her ears. She grins, little laughs puffing out. “This is anything but turning me on. Lola’s dry as the Sahara Desert.”
I lift a brow. “The Sahara, huh?” I smother my grin and lean closer, pressing firmly against her. “You’re telling me”—my voice drops low at her ear—“that if I took these gloves off and slid my fingers into your pussy, it wouldn’t be wet? You wouldn’t like that?”
Jesus. The thought of her warm pussy against my cold fingers right now…
My cock throbs against her, agreeing with every word. I kiss her ear, then trail down, leaving heat along her jaw before brushing her mouth. My padded thumb swipes across her cheek.
She bursts out laughing.
Let me tell you what you don’t want when you’re trying to turn someone on.
Laughing.
“Oh my God, the glove against my skin is like nails on a chalkboard.” Her stomach tightens beneath me with giggles.
“Fuck. I give up.” Grinning, I roll off her and onto my back beside her, staring up at the blue sky and the towering pines. Each breath leaves a puff of white that vanishes into the air.
She turns her head toward me, and I meet her gaze. “You almost had me. But then that glove…” She winces. “It was like my brother walking in on us in the middle of sex. Cringe.”
That makes me laugh. “Jesus. That’s not something anyone ever wants to hear.”
Her laugh softens, fading into a smile. “I love you for trying, though.” Her eyes search mine. “And for bringing me here.”
It slams into my chest, knocking the air right out of me. I freeze, my whole body locking. “Say it again. Please. Just once.”
She rolls onto her side, glove reaching for mine. She fits her hand into my palm as best she can, and I shift onto my side too.
“I love you, Jensen. Always have.” Her eyes roam over my face. “Never didn’t,” she adds in a whisper.
A grin tugs at my mouth, and I don’t think about anything except her as our lips collide.
There’s weight in those words—more than I expected. They hit deep, and it feels incredible to hear them. To be loved by her. It feelsearned. She means it. It’s undeniable, the love she has for me.
We kiss in the snow for several minutes. I couldn’t tell you how long. Time slows. Everything around us stills until it’s just us.
Me and my wife.
The words spread through me like a stiff drink. Burns at first, emotion thick in my throat. Then it warms, spreading through my veins, settling in every limb. Comfort. Confidence. Relief. More relief than any drug or drink ever gave me.
And an overwhelming truth hits me?—
Alley’s all I’ll ever need to be happy.
Could I be happy without her? Sure. But I’d always want more. Always be searching for the next best thing, the next high. Money. Sex. A woman. A thrill.
But with her? Nothing else matters. I could be living in a van down by the river and I’d still be happy. Strip the clothes off my back, I’d only want her. I’d still choose her. Every day.
That’s where I was lost before. Yeah, I was in pain. It hurt like hell, but I was chasing some bullshit ideal of being the perfect man. I didn’t want Alley to see me as weak, hear me complain, or have to take care of me. That was supposed to bemyjob.
I grin against her lips, deepening our kiss.
I was wrong. I didn’t get it.
She loves me. She’d do the same for me that I’d do for her.
I still want to be strong and healthy as I get older, we all do. But what a fucking privilege it would be to have her take care of me. To be in the kind of marriage wherein sickness and in healthisn’t just a vow, it’s the proof of love itself.
We already have that. She’s already proved it.
