Page 86 of His Wild Attraction

It seemed I had a penchant for bronzed skin stretched over too many muscles to count, dark chest hair, and sexy tattoos. I also liked facial hair and dark, stormy eyes, lips that were made to kiss, and big, powerful hands that knew just how to hold a woman my size.

Amen.

Of course, I was daydreaming about my husband.

He was the sexiest man I’d ever seen. Certainly, the hottest one who ever wanted anything to do with me.

He did want me.

There was no denying that.

Andres’ attention hadn’t wavered even after my clumsy argument with him a few nights ago.

Having to admit I got my period right after our little tiff was mortifying, but he made it all seem so easy.

Getting me a heating pad, making snacks for us to share, and cuddling with me on the couch while we watched Keanu Reeves avenge the murder of the puppy his late wife gifted him was just the most perfect night.

I’d felt cherished, cared for, and that was new. The things he said and did that night and every night since had left me feeling slightly confused, and more than a little hopeful.

His reaction to Sammy calling him Dad had the walls around my heart cracking just a little bit more.

Okay, fine.

That wall had split wide fucking open.

The man was undoing every precaution I ever took to make sure this thing between us didn’t get messy. But I had a feeling I was too late for that.

The way I felt about Andres was new and sweet, but also scary. I was so attracted to him. It was like a signal went off inside my body whenever he was within ten feet of me.

I wanted him with a fervor that was borderline manic.

After my period subsided, I’d let him know subtly.

Or maybe not so subtly.

He came home for dinner, and instead of grabbing my comfy flannel pants while he changed to head back to the office as he had been doing most nights this week, I followed him into the bedroom after tucking Sammy in for the night.

Andres was standing just inside the walk-in closet, and I closed our bedroom door with a soft click.

Then I pulled off my jeans and t-shirt. In nothing but my black cotton panties and matching bralette, I entered the closet. Andres’ heated gaze found mine, and a sharp exhale left his lips.

I’d never done anything like that, and I was so damn nervous.

What if he thought I was being too forward? What if I grossed him out?

I wanted him so badly.

Hell.

I needed him.

But I wasn’t sure I could bring myself to say the words. So I stripped instead, hoping he got the picture.

A split second later, he was on me. All my inhibitions fled as my sexy-as-fuck husband crushed me to him, kissing me with a fervor that sent tingles shooting through every nerve ending.

It was the first night I didn’t reach for him first. At least, not physically.

And I was so ready for him. Even just a few days of abstinence were too much. My pussy felt so empty without him filling me. Arousal dripped from my lips, soaking my panties.

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