My slick is thick between my thighs, my body completely at their mercy.
Todd chuckles against my jaw, his voice dark with promise. “Two months, Ash. We’re about to make up for every second.”
I wakeup half-sprawled over West’s chest, my leg draped over Xayden, and an arm tossed across Jake’s abdomen. Blinking against the early morning light, I lift my head, searching for Todd.
West grumbles in his sleep, his fingers tightening around my waist like he can keep me anchored to him even in unconsciousness. Smiling, I press a soft kiss to his chest, lingering for just a moment before carefully peeling myself away. He sighs but doesn’t wake, his grip loosening just enough for me to slip free.
The scent of something warm and familiar drifts through the air—pancakes, bacon… and Todd.
I follow it, padding quietly down the hall, my body deliciously sore in all the best ways. My oversized sleep shirt slips off one shoulder as I reach the kitchen, and there he is, standing at the stove, shirtless, the golden glow of morning catching on the edges of his muscles as he flips a pancake.
I take a second to admire him—broad back, lean strength, the relaxed way he moves, like he belongs here.Because he does.They all do.
A slow smile curves my lips as I step forward, slipping my arms around his waist from behind. His skin is warm beneath my palms, the muscles in his stomach flexing slightly at my touch.
He hums, low and pleased, as I brush my lips against his shoulder, inhaling deep. His musk—amber and sandalwood, rich and grounding—mixes with the scent of butter and maple syrup, wrapping around me like home.
“Morning, gorgeous,” he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep and affection.
I tighten my hold, resting my cheek against his back. “Morning.”
“Sleep okay?” He flips another pancake, his free hand covering mine where they rest against his stomach, tracing slow circles with his thumb.
“Mmmhmm.” I tilt my head, pressing another kiss to his skin. “Waking up to this? Even better.”
He chuckles, low and knowing. “Figured you’d be hungry.”
I smile against his shoulder, my fingers teasing along the lines of his abdomen. “For breakfast? Or for you?”
Todd’s whole body tenses for a second, then he groans, setting the spatula down with a quietclink.
“You keep that up,” he warns, turning slightly to glance at me over his shoulder, his eyes dark with somethingdangerous, “and we won’t make it to breakfast.”
I grin, my heart kicking up its pace. “Is that a threat or a promise?”
He exhales, like he’s barely holding on, then shakes his head with a chuckle. “Sit, Ash. Eat first. Then we’ll see about that appetite of yours.”
I laugh, pressing one last kiss to his shoulder before slipping away to grab a seat at the kitchen island. As I watch him cook, his easy movements remind me of before—before the fame, before everything changed. When we were young and eager for life to begin.
But it doesn’t hurt. If anything, it brings a smile to my lips, because even though we took the long way back to each other,we found the happiness we once thought we had to search for elsewhere.
Todd turns, catching my gaze, his expression shifting as he studies me. “What are you thinking about?” he asks, setting a plate of pancakes down in front of me.
I glance down at the food before looking back at him, my voice low but honest. “Us. The past. Our future.”
His expression shifts, something warm settling in his eyes. He nods, like he understands exactly what I mean, even without me elaborating.
“We wasted a lot of time, didn’t we?” he murmurs, leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his bare chest.
I shrug, twirling my fork between my fingers. “Maybe. But if we had figured it out back then, maybe we wouldn’t have appreciated it the same way we do now.”
Todd exhales, pushing a hand through his messy hair. “I don’t know, Ash. I think I would’ve appreciated having you in my bed every damn night.” His lips tilt into a smirk, but there’s something deeper in his tone, something raw.
A blush creeps up my neck, but I smile, shaking my head. “Yeah, well. Now you get me for good.”
His smirk fades into something softer, something real. “Damn right we do.”
Before I can respond, a sleepy groan echoes from down the hall, followed by the shuffle of footsteps.
