Page 3 of Seven Year Itch

She twirled in his embrace and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Okay, you're forgiven. But note, you're only just removed from my shit-list and can go back on with any misstep."

"So noted."

His lips found hers, and she pressed herself to him as he deepened the kiss. Events of the past few weeks flew from her mind as he skillfully and determinedly turned her on, making her wish dinner was over and the kids weren't still up.

She moaned when his hand found her ass and squeezed. "No fair," she mumbled against his lips.

He pressed his hard-on into her stomach. "Talk about unfair. You know these tight pants you wear drive me insane."

"Leggings."

"Hmm?" he asked, halfheartedly as his lips found her neck again.

"They're called leggings," she replied just as distracted.

"They should be called lethal."

That made her laugh, and the arrival of Noah and Emma, hungry for dinner, broke them apart. "I'd better get dinner finished."

"Then I expect you to finish me later." Garrett winked before turning. Then scooping a kid under each arm, carried them squealing from the kitchen.

≈≈≈≈

Three hours later, it was Ali who was squealing—into her pillow—as her husband pleasured her with his mouth. His lips, tongue, and teeth went on an exploration, and she discovered the Holy Land.

And then his damn phone dinged with an incoming text.

Garrett didn't seem to notice. He was too engrossed with her breasts. Her nipples to be specific. Licking and sucking. Tugging the hard peaks into his mouth and twirling them with his tongue.

"I want you to come again," he said, sliding his fingers through her folds, finding her clit and circling it with a finger.

She wanted to come again, too. But now her mind was on his damn phone and who could be texting him at almost ten o'clock on a Wednesday night. But Garrett knew her body well—the crease where her leg met her pussy was especially erogenous—and he had her on the brink again in no time.

He slid in, and she sighed as he filled her. Wrapping her legs around his thighs, she pulled him closer. Her hands gripped his shoulders, her short nails biting into his flesh as he pounded into her hard and fast.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," he said, rotating his hips and hitting the spot that did it for her every time.

"That's okay, so am I," she panted, pushing her lower half up to meet his, chasing the orgasm that was right within reach. "Harder. Just a little harder."

"Fuck, babe, you're killing me. I'm about to explode."

And then she found it. Wave after wave of sensation rippled through her, ending in a whole body shiver.

Garrett collapsed on top of her, catching most of his weight with his arms. His lips found her neck, the underneath part of her chin, then finally her lips, his tongue sliding in effortlessly to mate with hers.

He pulled out of her carefully, kissing the tip of her nose, then rolled them to their sides, spooning her from behind.

"I need to go clean up." But she didn't make a move to get up, content right where she was.

Garrett must've been comfortable, too because he grunted, "Just let me hold you a bit longer."

As she lay in his embrace, enjoying the heat of his arm wrapped around her waist, his hand nestled in her cleavage and the weight of his leg covering hers, his phone beeped again.

Garrett grunted, rolling away. "Sorry, babe, I should've turned the damn thing off before coming to bed."

Ali rolled with him, trying to discreetly peek at the screen, but all she saw was a flash of light before the screen went dark as he powered it off.

He flopped down on his back, holding an arm out wide. "Come here."

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