Wes smells so good. Like citrus shampoo and home. He runs his fingers through my hair, and when he laughs at the screen, the sound vibrates inside my own chest. Flattening my hand, I run a palm down his neck and onto the broad muscle of his shoulder. He feels so good I have to give it a squeeze. I trace the ink climbing out of his T-shirt sleeve. Then I reach around and tug his shirt up to his pecs so I can lay a hand on the taut skin of his belly.
The show keeps on playing, but I’ve lost track. He feels alive and so solid against me that I have to lean forward and kiss the back of his neck. “Mmm,” I say. It’s great to be home.
As I continue to nibble on his neck, Wes sighs and goesboneless against me. “I’m supposed to be givingyoua neck rub,” he reminds me.
“I’m all better.” I move my ministrations to the side, sucking gently on the skin under his ear.
“Fuck,” he rumbles. “Feels good.” He rolls over all at once, and one second later we’re lip-locked. The warm huff of his breath on my face is everything I need. I slant my face to make our connection more perfect, and he opens for me. Our tongues tangle, and he presses closer, forcing a knee between mine.
And everything is right with the world.
Wes’s hand wanders down my side, then under my shirt. His palm slides over my ribs, and I wish I weren’t wearing a shirt at all because I want his skin on mine. But I don’t want to stop kissing him, so that’s just gonna have to wait.
“Love you so much,” he pants between kisses.
I make an unintelligible growl of agreement, then take a breath and manage to string together some actual words. “Let’s take it into the bedroom.”
He groans in response, and presses his hips against mine. And, schwing! We both want the same thing. But now our kisses grow even deeper. I’m too busy climbing into Wes’s mouth to get up and do anything about the happy ache in my balls.
So we’re just lying there, pawing each other and making out when the intercom beeps.
Wes groans, but we carry on.
But it beeps again. And Wes pulls back reluctantly. We both know that whoever has buzzed for us is probably on the way upstairs now. “Think Blake lost his key?” I ask, my voice husky.
He snorts. “Probably.”
“If he comes in here, we’re never getting rid of him.”
Wes sighs and rearranges himself in his sweatpants. “Maybe it’s just a delivery or something?” He says it with hope in his voice, but of course we didn’t order anything.
I recline on the sofa and take a swig of my drink while he answers the buzzer.
“Okay, thanks,” Wes says. “Send ’er up.”
“Who’s her?” I ask in alarm.
“Katie Hewitt. My teammate’s wife. Apparently she’s bringing us a lasagna.”
“A…really?”
“That’s what the doorman said. He’s like, ‘This smells really good, Mr. Wesley’.”
“But why?”
Wes shrugs. “I guess we’re about to find out?”
I run my hands through what is probably sex hair.
Someone raps on the door, and Wes yanks it open. “Hey, wow. Evening Katie. Hey, Hewitt. Thought you two would be enjoying the night off.”
Wes is marched backward by a woman with thick, glossy hair and a big lasagna pan. “Happy engagement!” she yells, then whirls around at her husband with a look of betrayal. “Ben! You were supposed to shout it with me!”
“Forgot,” Hewitt mumbles.
I swallow a laugh, but it slips out when Katie sidesteps Wes and trots into our kitchen like she owns it. I hear the sound of my oven door opening and closing.
I stand up to greet our guests, and Katie runs over and takes my face in two hands. Her nails are very red and shiny. Like shellacked talons. “Congratulations on the engagement! I’msohappy for you guys! I know you were away for a week, so I figured you two didn’t have time to stock up on groceries,so my first engagement present to you is food.” She beams, then gives me a hug.
