“You married me.”
“That part’s on me.”
I lean forward, pressing a kiss just below his ribs, slow and reverent.
“And yet we’re still pretty obsessed with each other.”
He cups my face, thumb brushing over my cheek.
“Seeing you on your knees still does things to me,” he murmurs.
“Even after all these years.”
I smile against his skin.
“Good.”
He gives in with a quiet laugh, pulling me up by the collar and kissing me—deep, unhurried, full of everything we’ve built together. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine.
“Okay,” he whispers.
“But if we’re late, I’m blaming you.”
I guide him toward the bed, costumes forgotten, party forgotten, the world narrowing down to just us—just like it always does.
And honestly?
I wouldn’t trade this life for anything.
****
The moment my fingers curled around Jamie’s wrist, I knew I wasn’t letting go. Here, in the dim glow of the bedroom, it was just us – the air thick with the scent of leather, sweat, and something darker, something hungry.
His Robin costume clung to him like a second skin, the green fabric stretched tight over his shoulders, the yellow utility belt cinched around his waist, accentuating the lean lines of his gorgeous, athletic body. I could see the outline of his nipples through the thin material, already hard, already begging for my teeth.
I yanked him against me, my free hand tangling in that stupid blonde quiff of his, tilting his head just right before I crushed my mouth to his. He gasped, his lipsparting under mine, and I took full advantage, my tongue plunging inside, claiming him.
He tasted like champagne and the cherry lip balm he always wore, sweet and intoxicating, and I growled into the kiss, my cock already straining against my jeans. My hands weren’t idle – one gripped his hip hard enough to bruise, the other slid up his side, thumb brushing over a nipple through the fabric, feeling it pebble even more under my touch.
He whimpered, his body arching into mine, and I smirked against his lips.
Good. He knew who was in charge.
I tore my mouth away, leaving him breathless, his lips swollen and glistening.His blue eyes were wide, dazed, pupils blown with need.
“Lex—” he started, but I cut him off with a sharp tug on his belt, spinning him around so his back was to my front. My fingers found the hem of his top, and in one rough motion,I dragged it up, exposing the smooth, fair skin of his torso.
He shivered as the cool air hit him, but I didn’t give him time to adjust. My lips pressed to the back of his neck first, hot and open-mouthed, then trailed down his spine, my tongue tracing the dip of each vertebra.
His breath hitched, his fingers clutching at the bedspot for support.
“Fuck, you’re already trembling for me,” I murmured, my voice a dark purr against his skin.
My hands slid down to his waistband, hooked my fingers into the fabric, and yanked. The shorts gave away easily, pooling around his ankles, leaving him bare except for the stupid little green briefs underneath.
Robin indeed.
My palm smacked his ass, the crack echoing in the room, and he yelped, his hips jerking forward.
