He blinked and looked down at the bottle in his hands. He popped the cork out easily and poured them each a glass. He handed her one, then clinked them gently together. “I love you, Lovey.”
“Love you too.”
Their eyes met as they lifted the glasses to their mouths.
“Now, this really is the best date ever.”
They sat in front of the fire, sipping wine, talking, touching, kissing. He was glad he’d made her happy. He wanted to spend the rest of his life making her happy.
He wanted to make her happy now.
He carefully set their glasses aside and led her to the bed. He undressed her first, kissing her skin as he revealed it, then pulled off his own clothes. He tumbled them onto the big bed. Her body rippled under his hands as she gave herself to him, and he got lost in the feel of her, in the heat, in the sweetness and erotic pleasure. Emotion swelled inside him, powerful and huge.
Her hands reached for him and her soft murmurs of pleasure had heat pouring over his body, liquid pleasure running through his veins. They rolled and twisted together, mouths fused in long, endless kisses, hands all over each other. She bit his shoulder gently, licked his skin, and made him burn everywhere. He worshipped her with his mouth, his tongue, his hands. He found her soft, wet center and rubbed his thumb over her clit until she vibrated.
“So glad we don’t need a condom.” He kissed her throat as she quivered against him. “Want to be inside you, bare.”
“Yes. Please.”
He moved over her, buried his face in the side of her neck, breathed in that sweet cupcake scent. His chest clenched and he struggled for breath, then levered himself up above her.
Her lips parted and her eyes gazed up at him, her hands on his chest. Their gazes held for a long moment while heat built and shimmered around them. His heart thudded in a slow, heavy rhythm in his chest.
He lifted her thigh, pushed inside her, and his bare flesh met hers, hot and wet. Her body surrounded him and tightened around him, and sensation poured over him, overwhelmingly intimate. He moved inside her, sliding in and out of her silky heat as her body squeezed him, her hands pressed to his chest.
His gaze was riveted to her face, the perfect oval of it, her mouth shiny in the firelight, her eyes full of longing and love and devotion. He thrust deeper, harder, watching her eyelids drift closed, drinking in her hot whimpers and the soft sighs that built to a climax of pleasure. He’d never seen anything as gorgeous as watching Lovey come, her body tightening, her pussy rippling around him, and it undid him. The surge of sensation and emotion inside him was almost unbearable. He sank into her softness, one achingly sweet sensation building on another. Pleasure expanded through his chest, swelling inside him.
He fell on her with a long groan, their bodies melting together. Her hands slid over him and she moved against him, beneath him, with him, around him. She was everything to him.
“Je t’aime,” he whispered. “Tu es pour moi la plus belle.”
“I love it when you speak French to me.”
And he smiled.
Epilogue
“You going home for Christmas?”
Marc looked over at Army at his question. They were each sprawled out on one of his couches, Rosser in one of the armchairs, all of them watching Duck Dynasty, eating pretzels, and drinking root beer.
Oh right. Christmas. Only a couple of weeks away. They had four days off this year, from the twenty-third to the twenty-eighth, but he’d been so distracted with what was going on with him and Lovey, not to mention their losing streak, he hadn’t even thought about it. Now he guiltily remembered his mom’s email asking about that, which he still hadn’t replied to. He winced inwardly.
“I should. My mom wants me to.” He paused. “I’m trying to convince Lovey to come with me.”
Army frowned. “But then she won’t be home for Christmas. I mean, our home.”
“I know. She’s having a hard time deciding what to do. Doesn’t want to let your parents down.”
Army pursed his lips. “Well, I guess this is what happens when the kids grow up. We’ve never had Christmas apart.”
“Never?”
“Nope.”
Marc grinned. “You talk like she’s such a big pain in your ass, but you love your little sister.”
Army grimaced and rubbed the back of his head. “Of course I love her.” He glanced at Marc. “You could come to the farm.”
“Lovey said that too. Don’t know what your folks would think about that.”
“They fucking love you. They love you more than they love me.”
“That’s understandable.”
Army threw a pretzel at him and Rosser snorted. Marc grinned.
“How about you, Rosser?” Army looked at their teammate. “Going home for Christmas? You’re from…Maine…right?”
“Wrong.” Rosser shot another pretzel Armdog’s way. “Connecticut. Greenfield. Little place just outside Hartford. And yeah, I’m going there for Christmas.”
“Big family?”
“Uh…” Rosser’s face tightened. “Sort of. They’re kind of my adopted family. They took me in when I was sixteen and my own family fell apart.”
“Ah. That sucks, man.”
Rosser shrugged. “That was a long time ago. The MacFaddens are good people. It’ll be cool to see everyone.”
“Sounds good. But seriously, this is a tough decision.” Marc returned to their discussion about where he and Lovey should spend Christmas. “Don’t want to let my folks down either. And a French-Canadian Christmas would be cool for Lovey.”
“Maybe you should go home and Lovey should come to the farm with me.”
Marc frowned. “You think we should spend our first Christmas together apart?” Wait, that didn’t sound right. Whatever.
“It won’t kill you, for fuck’s sake.”
Marc scowled at his friend. “Dude.”
“What?”
“Are you taking Melissa to the farm for Christmas?”
“Fuck no.” Army’s forehead furrowed.
“See, you don’t get it. I want to spend Christmas with Lovey.”
“Aw. How sweet. When did you turn into Captain Romance?”
“Ha. I knew that was coming.” The dig didn’t even bother him.
“I believe you once insinuated that I was whipped by my own sister. Well, look at you.” Army lifted his arm in a cracking-the-whip motion and made the corresponding noise.
“See, that didn’t even bother me. Because I’m not whipped. I want to be with her.”
“Gag.” Army guzzled some root beer from the can.
“We all end up whipped to some degree. When we’re young and single and we see a guy who just wants to stay home and fuck his girlfriend instead of coming out with us, we don’t get it. But of course he wants to stay home and fuck his girlfriend. That’s why he has a girlfriend.”
“I don’t like where this conversation is going.”
“I’m talking in generalities.” Marc waved a hand. “Anyway, one day you’ll understand.”
“Again, gag.” Army paused. “Hey, I know. Rock, paper, scissors.”
Marc laughed. “Fuck off.”
“Okay, we’ll arm wrestle.”
“You know you’ll lose.”
The door of Army’s condo opened and closed and Lovey appeared. She rushed in, cheeks pink from the cold, eyes sparkling. “Guess what!” She paused and beamed a smile at Rosser. “Oh, hi, Andrew.”
“Hey, Lovey.”
Marc smiled and sat up straight. “What, baby?”
“Remember I said I had another potential client?”
“The one you wouldn’t tell me about?”
“Yes! I got the job!” She actually jumped up and down in her high-heeled boots, clapping her gloved hands.
“Who is it?” Marc rose off the couch and strolled over to her.
“The Aces!”
Army sat up too, frowning. “What? The Chicago Aces?”
“Yes!” She beamed at them.