Page 58 of Lock 'em Down

“It’s crazy to think you two married on a fluke,” Harper comments.

I look at her, waiting for an explanation.

She looks between me and Leif and then leans closer, lowering her voice. “He looks at you like you’ve known each other for years. Like he’s smitten.”

“You think so?” I ask, wondering if she’s being truthful or just trying to make me feel better.

“Yeah, I do.” Harper’s tone is serious, her expression certain.

“I hope so,” I whisper back, grateful to feel a connection to someone here.

“Me too,” she agrees, grinning. “And I love your purple ring.”

I hold out my hand and we both laugh.

When I look up, Leif is still watching me. And I realize Harper’s right, he does look smitten. I wonder if I look at him the same way.

It’s only been a handful of weeks but the way I feel for Leif is different. At the end of the day, I look forward to speaking with him. When too many hours pass, I find myself wondering about his day. I get excited when he comes over or we make plans.

Is this what dating is supposed to feel like? Is this the beginning of falling in love?

God, I hope so.

I’m tipsy the moment I pull Leif into my apartment.

Stella, bless her, grabbed a ride home with River, Lola, and Mia since they were going in the same direction as Leif’s place. In fact, she seemed giddy at the thought of Leif and me shacking up.

Another nonconventional reaction I’m embracing because for the last third of the evening at the Daires’ house, all I could think about was getting my husband naked.

Leif closes the door behind him and locks up. When he turns to face me, I’ve already whipped off the dainty, floral camisole I wore to dinner, and I’m working on the zipper of my skirt.

Leif freezes, his eyes drinking me in. Then, he’s at my side, stilling my hands, touching my waist, and stepping into my frame. “Don’t rush tonight, Knox. Tonight, I want to enjoy every inch of you.”

I shiver from the promise in his tone, from the gravity shading his eyes. “Leif…” His name is a whisper on my lips.

He sweeps my hair behind my shoulders, gathers it in his large hand, and twists, angling my head as his mouth drops to mine. His kiss lingers and we take our time, our tongues meeting in languid strokes. I tug on the hem of his shirt and manage to roll it up his body until he reaches behind his neck and tugs it off, dropping it on the floor.

Then, my palms are on the smooth skin of his chest, my fingers inching down to trace the ridges of his abs. His arms wrap around me, one hand grabbing my ass as he presses me against him.

He’s already hard, already wanting, and the knowledge that I can turn on a man like Leif Bang is an ego boost that hits like a shot of adrenaline. I pop the button on his jeans, he slides down the zipper of my skirt, and within minutes, we’re clad in our underwear, our bodies pressed together.

This time, our coming together is different. We’re not drunk. We’re not even tipsy. We’re just us, inhaling each other’s exhales and learning the map of each other’s bodies.

My hands track over Leif’s strong back, my fingertips brushing the colors of the sunset. Leif’s mouth trails down the column of my neck, his fingers hooking under the thin straps of my bra. Then, he lifts me. He does so easily, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he walks into my bedroom, one hand gripping my ass, the other splayed wide in the center of my back.

He lays me in the center of my bed. Gently.

He looms over me. A giant, taking up all the space, the air, of the room and commanding my entire focus. I shiver from the pure desire flaring in his eyes.

And I don’t compare the man before me to Levi Rousell. I don’t even think of Levi. Because there is no comparison. Leif Bang blots out my past mistakes, my greatest source of shame, my inability to fully trust the man I’m with, and allows me to let go.

To surrender to the moment.

I reach for him, and he comes gladly, settling his strong, ripped, gorgeous body between my thighs. He kisses me deeply. His touch is sure and thorough. The most incredible man I’ve ever met with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen makes love to me like I’m worthy of every single thing he has to offer. Like I’m worthy of him.

He removes my bra slowly, rolls my panties down my legs, and kisses his way down. He takes his time enjoying my breasts, pulling them in between his lips one at a time. He flicks his tongue over my nipples, trails kisses over the soft swells. He licks a path down my abdomen, brushes his fingertips over the ink on my ribs.

I’m so turned on, I can feel the heat gathering between my legs. I arch my back each time his lips make contact with my sensitive skin, wanting his mouth to claim my core with a desperation that borders on needy.

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