Page 69 of Feels Like Home

The cinnamon scent of his gum tickles my nose as heexhales.

Inhale through mynose.

His teeth graze his bottom lipagain.

It’s one of the most erotic visions, and I wonder if he does it on purpose. If he knows how freakin’ sexy itis.

I look up into his eyes then lick my lips. His eyes follow themovement.

My breath comesheavier…

“Take me fishing, boys?” I hear my daughter ask, her voice high, even forher.

It should snap us back to reality, but instead we stand still like we’re doing that mannequin challenge thing that was popular for a littlewhile.

The backdoor slams behind me, and within seconds his lips are onmine.

My arms wrap around his neck, fingers thread through his soft hair that’s getting longer. I love it. I’ve never been a fan of long hair on men, but on Andy it’s just so damn gorgeous that I know I’ll never let him cut his hairagain.

My lips part and his tongue slides in, not tentatively but not forcefully either. Just the right amount ofpressure.

He tugs on my hair, causing my head to turn just the way he wants it, and I moan. Deep andguttural.

He responds with a groan of his own, pushing his body against mine, causing me to dip backwards slightly as he walks us to the counter, pressing me againstit.

His hand snakes down my back to cup mybutt.

Those white teeth that I’ve become obsessed with give his own lip a break to nip at mine, and it sends a shock directly where I wanthim.

It’s been so long since I’ve felt the touch of a man, and until I met Andy, I hadn’t really missedit.

Sure, there were times I cravedsomethingbecause I’m a red-blooded human being, but I never really felt that desire. Then Andy and I grew closer, and suddenly my body felt alive, and fully awake after being stuck inidle.

There’s been a stirring inside me for months now, but with his hands on my body, his mouth on my skin, and his strong frame crowding me against the corner of the countertop, that stirring quickly turns into a full-fledged riot, a battle of wills happening withinme.

But there’s not a single ounce of me that can find it in me to care whether it’s right orwrong.

Whether it matters that he’s technically still married to anotherwoman.

Or the fact that our children are right outside and more than likely know exactly what’s taking place rightnow.

All I can think of is how amazing he makes mefeel.

How he makes me feelbeautiful.

Wanted.

Loved.

Histongue.

It’s possibly made ofmagic.

Tasting.

Tangling.

Giving.

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