“Uh, that’s where I’d smoke the cigarettes I bummed from delivery guys.”
Nina ignored me and walked over the long, built-in desk with a tilted top my mom had commissioned when I’d mentioned a possible future in architecture. She’d always supported me, no matter the dream, and no matter if she knew in her heart that I’d end up in the family business.
“And here’s where you did your homework.”
“Wrong again. It’s where I put my feet up and read comic books.”
She shook her head at me then walked over to the bed. “Andthisis where you’d dream about all the pretty girls in your class.” She sat down on it and patted the space beside her. “Tell me about your first kiss.”
I walked over and lowered myself onto the bed.
“Unremarkable, and it was all my fault,” I answered. “Gina McAllister. Sloppy. I used way too much tongue, and it ended when she pushed me away.”
“Aww,” she pouted. “Poor thing! I guess the good news is your technique has improved.”
She realized what she was admitting too late. But it gave me an opening, so I decided to go for it.
“Oh? You think so?”
“I mean, Ithink…I’m not sure I really remember,” she said in a coquettish voice. “The one at the press conference was super-fast.”
We were side by side on the bed with our thighs pressed against one another, and Nina was looking up at me hopefully, her pretty lips pouted.
“Well, it sounds like I’m duty bound then to refresh your memory,” I said softly.
I leaned toward her slowly and slid my hand along her jaw, drawing her closer. I paused with our lips just inches apart to make sure I wasn’t misreading her signals.
“May I?” I murmured.
Her lips curled into a smile. “You’re my husband. Of course.”
And then we were kissing like it was something we did every day. Her hands slid up the back of my neck and threaded through my hair. I gently pushed her back onto the bed so I hovered over her.
I was flooded with sense memories as we kissed, of her naked beneath me and crying out my name. The briefest of kisses would have been enough to get me going all on their own, but this scenario—her beneath me, desperate and needy for more—had me rock-hard in an instant.
And then she started slipping her hand down my body to find my belt buckle.
“Nina,” I rasped. “Should we?”
She leaned up to recapture my mouth, which I took to mean that her answer was yes. We both lost ourselves in the kiss again, and she struggled with the buckle until we heard loud voices drifting up to us.
I pulled away and dropped my head onto her shoulder. “Shit. They’re here, and they’re going to come looking for us.”
“I don’t want to stop,” Nina whispered.
“Trust me, we don’t have a choice,” I grumbled my unhappiness against the side of her neck.
We untangled slowly, and I took a few minutes to think about oatmeal and balance sheets to try to calm my raging hard-on. Nina walked to the mirror to fix her hair.
“So much for wearing lipstick,” she laughed at her reflection.
We did our best to compose ourselves, took a deep breath, and headed back downstairs.
“The couple of the hour,” Drew crowed when we walked into the great room where everyone was gathered. “Nice to put a face to the voice, Nina!”
I’d forgotten about my emergency call to my brother the morning after our accidental marriage.
Once introductions were made and baby Sophia had been sufficiently cooed over, the ladies grabbed Nina and pulled her away to do what I could only assume was a friendly interrogation.
