Page 20 of Too Sweet

Everything she does—everything she is—it’s all so sweet.

Her lips hover inches from mine, our breaths mingling and our foreheads pressed together. I finally loosen my grip and caress her skin. I trail my hands up and down her back, then circle them around and brush my fingertips against her nipples.

“More,” she murmurs, the sharp points of her nails digging into my shoulders.

I roll her nipples between my forefingers and thumbs, matching the movements to the deep, soul-shifting drive of our lower halves.

She’s getting close—and thank fuck for that, because I’m tensing every muscle in my body to stave off my own release.

I move one hand to her hair, cradling the back of her head, and snake my other hand between our bodies, bringing my thumb to her clit and rubbing her in quick, tight circles.

When her heat clenches, I know this is it. She unravels beautifully, her head thrown back in ecstasy as her body pulls me deeper and tugs at the very essence of who I am. It’s the sensation of her letting go that finally unleashes my release.

Waves of pleasure ripple through me, the sweetness of the moment washing over me and fortifying everything I feel for this woman.

As we come down, neither one of us makes any moves to separate.

I’m so satisfied. So content. So utterly blissed out that I can’t imagine anything I want or need more than my wife in my arms.

Wordlessly, I stand up, taking care to keep us connected. I arrange a few pillows, then lie back down on the couch, pulling an oversized blanket over our bodies.

Josephine nuzzles into my neck, kisses the hollow of my throat, and whispers, “I love you” before falling asleep in my arms.

Chapter 10

Joey

The first thing I notice when I crack open my eyes is just how dark it is. My mind fogs in confusion. It has to be morning. After a few blinks, the dots start connecting in my mind. I’m not out in the living room anymore. I’m downstairs in the Den.

Expectantly, I reach over, but all I find is an empty bed. I scan my surroundings and see that my phone has been plugged in to the charger on the nightstand. When I lift it to check the time, I’m shocked to see that it’s almost noon. I ignore the date on the screen—it’s just another day—and set the device down again.

A day I’m looking forward to for once, because I get to hang out with all four of my guys. No obligations. No jaded memories. Just the five of us together.

I shoot up to sitting but instantly regret it.

My legs ache, and my stomach muscles feel like they’ve been put through the wringer. I’m embarrassingly sore. Especially considering I didn’t do much except cling to Decker as he dragged me around the ice rink last night.

Decker.

I fell asleep in his arms in front of the fire last night. Naked, sated, and happier than I’ve ever been in my life.

It’s that thought that spurs into action.

I’m wearing his shirt, so I leave that on and find a clean pair of sweatpants in a drawer. My toiletries bag is already in the en suite, so I take a few minutes to brush my teeth, take my meds, and swipe on deodorant and mascara. Throwing my hair into a messy bun is the final step before I leave the room and traverse the stairs.

I move stealthily up the open corridor, following the sound of my guys talking in the kitchen.

“Do you think we should wake her up?” Locke asks. He’s met with a chorus of objection from the others.

Smirking, I reach the landing, then pad through the great room until all four men come into view.

Except they’re not what catches my eye first.

Shit on a crumbly cracker.

There are balloons. Poorly placed streamers. An absolutelymassivepile of stuff sitting on the table. But it’s the banner strung up along the wall that confirms the rapid-fire pulsing of my heart isn’t in vain.

Happy Birthday Joey.