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She sighed out her satisfaction, planted a hand just behind her on the counter, and started to move with him. The loving was urgent and intense, both of them needing to be close, but also desperate for release. He wanted to make it last, make it good for her. She locked her legs around his waist and pulled him in again and again.

He held her with one arm and slid his other hand down to where they were joined and brushed his thumb over her sensitive clit. She fractured in his arms, her legs pulling him deep into her core as his orgasm rolled through him, setting off aftershocks in her.

He leaned into her, cradling her head against his chest, his fingers buried in her long hair as they both caught their breath and settled back into their sated bodies.

“I love the kitchen,” she said, so much joy in her voice.

“Yeah? I wasn’t sure.” He teased. “I love the way you express yourself.” There wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t show and tell him in some way that she loved him. He loved the songs she either sang to him or sent him to listen to when she was busy but still wanted him to know she was thinking about him.

“Don’t expect me to dance naked in the kitchen all the time.”

“Not even if I ask real nice and love you like this again?”

She leaned back and looked up at him. “You’ll have to ask merealnice.”

He nuzzled his nose into the sensitive and soft skin behind her ear, taking in her sweet and floral scent, reacquainting himself with the feel of her against him, the softness of her hair, the way she breathed with him.

“The house is nearly done. When can we move in?” she asked.

“Painters will finish the rooms upstairs day after tomorrow before they do down here. After that, it’s just some small stuff to finish. Weather’s getting warmer. We’ll need to decide what we want to do with the yard.”

“I want flowers.”

“Whatever you want, Angel, it’s yours.”

“I want you. Always you.”

He turned his left hand toward her to show off the tattoo he’d gotten while she was away.

She took his hand and stared at the compass tattoo he’d had since he was twenty, but now showed his true north, his way home, pointed to her name now inked in his skin.

She was already inside every cell of his being, the most precious part of his heart.

Her gaze went teary. “M.” Just that soft, sweet sigh of the name she called him.

She pressed a kiss to his hand over her name, then gently pulled the bandage off her arm, held it up, and showed him her new and only tattoo. “Great minds,” she teased.

A heart enclosed anM, the letter made out of musical notes to form the lines. One of the bars leading to the round bottom of the music note wasn’t a line at all, but his name.Masonspelled out in stacked letters. She brushed a kiss on his lips. “You’re mine. The song in my heart.”

He kissed her, knowing she’d done this for him. He marked his skin with things that were important to him. They told a story about what he believed in and cared about, and who he was. This was her way of showing him that he was as permanent in her life as he was on her skin.

He didn’t know what to do with the enormous love he had for her inside of him, so he poured it out in the kiss they shared and spun out until they were both panting. “You didn’t have to do that.”

She took his left hand and pressed it to her heart. “You’re all over me, inside of me. I wanted it to show. The way you show things.”

“But you didn’t know I was getting your name tattooed on my hand.”

“You show me in so many ways that I am the center of your world.”

“You’re home to me, Angel.”

“Just like you are to me.” She kissed him again. “God, I missed you.”

He smiled down at her, feeling exactly the same way. “Any other places you want to christen in the house?”

She raised a brow. “Do we have hot water? I could use a shower after my flight.”

He scooped her up, her legs still wrapped around his waist, his hands clamped on her lush ass and carried her upstairs to their completely updated master bath.