Shrugging, my guy sits, dwarfing the chair. “Huh. I guess we can survive. What about breakfast?”
“The café downstairs is staying open, for now. However, we’re not so good for cash flow. There’s enough in the bank for this month. After that, we’ll have to live on our card. When those are maxed, you may need to have sex with rich women. I’m guessing you could do quite well.”
“You want to pimp me out?” His eyes go wide in mock surprise.
Wagging my brows like Groucho Marx, I tap a virtual cigar with my pinkie. “These are my principles, and if you don't like them… well, I have others.”
My sexy man wheels his chair next to mine, grabs my hands, and nibbles my earlobe. “I forgot to tell you, Slate said Grayson is paying everyone, even part-timers.”
“So much for Suds the Stud. I’ll cancel the web page. Do you think we can find detective work online?”
He lifts me into his lap and wraps his arms around me. “I doubt it, sugar. Cheaters will be stuck with their spouses. Courts will be closed so lawyers won’t be hiring, and no one needs a bodyguard during a pandemic.”
When my partner finishes coughing, I try to stick the thermometer in again but he tightens his lips.
“Don’t be like that. Do you have any other symptoms?” My palm, currently on his forehead, slides back.
“Just one.” He kisses me until my toes curl. “I am constantly hard for my wife.”
“Nuh-uh. You’ve been like that for almost a year.” I grab the hem of his black Patten t-shirt, tug it over his head, and brush my hand over the bumps of his amazing abs.
The centers of his eyes widen and his nostrils flare. Then, with his fingers threading through my hair, he holds my head in place. Our lips connect, the heat in the room rises, and I open for his tongue. As we duel, he hardens beneath me.
Gasping for breath, I stand with him and he presses my lower back against the countertop. Needing to be closer, I slide my palms to his firm ass.
“Babe…” Taking my hand, he tugs me toward the spiral staircase, and stops at the bottom to kiss me again. As he unhitches his jeans, my phone rings.
“Don’t answer.”
My panties dampen at his hoarse voice but I need to pick up. “Hold that thought.”
“As you wish.” About to pop out of his pants, he whips out his thick length, and wraps his fingers around it.
My clit swelling, I try to answer the incoming call. “H-hello?”
“Samantha? Are you alright? You sound funny. I heard Suds has the plague.”
Oh my God. It’s my aunt Marion. Sebastian was right. From now on, I need to let my calls go straight to voice mail.
My husband tugs on his cock and my throat goes dry. “N-no. He’s very, very f-fine. I’ve been taking his temperature all evening.”
“Well, I’ve notified all my clients and warned them.”
“G-good to be safe.” My sexy man unhitches my bra, my boobs fall free, and he caresses them as I bite back a moan. “I n-need to go. But I’ll stay in touch. Bye.”
“Go? Go where?”
“I, ah, s-something is about to explode.”
Before I can turn off my phone, it rings again. “Hey cuz, Mom told Mia how Sebastian has COVID and now she’s on her knees praying. Can you talk to her?”
I roll my eyes.You’ve got to be kidding me.
“You coming or not?” Halfway up the stairs, my partner raises his brows as I press mute.
“No, and don’t you dare, not without me.”
I’m totally distracted by his body until my young cousin sobs in my ear. “Tell him not to die. God is with him.”
