Then I heard him walking behind me humming. He started singingMy Cherie Amouroff-key but committed.
I turned around, eyebrows raised.“Seriously?” I asked, trying not to smile.
He stepped closer to me, snapping his fingers in slow rhythm. “I know you love it when I serenade you.”
“I love when you take out the trash and not pay the neighbor’s son to do it,” I teased.
He ignored the jab and kept going, turning the kitchen into a stage. “Lovely as a summer day…”
I rolled my eyes, but the smile was already pushing through. He leaned in closer, singing louder and sounding worse.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“But you’re smiling,” he said, grinning like a boy who knew he’d won.
I shook my head, laughing and wiping my hands on a towel. “You’re impossible.”
He stepped even closer, resting his forehead against mine. “But you love me.”
“Unfortunately.”
He laughed, grabbing my waist and pulling me fully against him. “You mean fortunately,” he corrected, kissing the side of my neck.
I melted, like I always did.
That was the problem. I could never stay mad at the man. Not when he kissed me like I still meant everything. Not when his arms wrapped around me like I was the home that he hated leaving.
We stood there for a moment, not saying anything but letting our bodies do what our mouths hadn’t figured out how to express.
I tilted my head up and kissed him real sloppy. He responded instantly, his grip tightening on my waist and traveling down to my butt as we kissed harder.
He whispered against my lips, “As soon as they left… I meant it. The table is clear.”
I smiled. “Then why am I not stretched out on it?”
One second I was standing on the kitchen floor and the next I was lifted off my feet.
“Kairo!” I squealed, laughing as my legs swung mid-air.
He ignored my protests and carried me toward the dining table like I weighed nothing.
He set me down gently on the table, but his hands stayed on my thighs. He traced his thumb along my jaw, tilting my face up to his again. His eyes were softer.
“I love that you were my best friend before you were my wife,” he whispered.
His hands moved slowly, loosening the straps of the set. He leaned down, mouth brushing near my collarbone as he kissed my skin gently. He kissed my skin until he made it my breast, knowing how sensitive they were. As soon as I felt his warm tongue touch my areola, I was creaming from satisfaction.
“I want you to fuck me, Kairo.” I swallowed hard, praying that he didn’t kill the moment by saying something I didn’t want to hear.
“Can I make love to you first?” he asked, opening my legs.
I just rolled my eyes because I gave specific instructions on what I wanted. I appreciated that my husband loves deep sensual sex, but sometimes, I wanted a quickie that lasted less than five minutes with hair pulling and rough talking. I pulled down his pants because I knew if I didn’t, he’d spend the nextthirty minutes on foreplay alone and I wanted to feel my walls constricting against his manhood more than anything.
“Come here,” I said, leaning back on the table for him to come climb on top of me. As expensive and heavy duty as it was, I wasn’t worried about it breaking. He inserted himself inside of me, and I just know I either saw Jupiter or Mars. He felt so fucking good and as he motioned himself in and out I was already shaking from pleasure. The way he looked into my eyes made me feel so special. Like finally, I was the only thing swirling in his mind.
“Kairo,” I whispered.
His lips were against my shoulder. “Yeah?”
