Page 113 of Short Stack 3

His mouth twitches. “Good heavens, Laurie. You are looking at me like I am your dinner.”

I wink at him. “Maybe you are.” I cock my head to one side. “If you were, what dinner would you be?”

He gives a rather dramatic sigh. “Always these tricky questions. It is worse than being in court. You are a very trying man.”

I bite my lip to hide a smile. “What’s so tricky about deciding what dinner you’d be?”

He unwinds his towel, and my mouth goes dry. It doesn’t matter that we’ve been together for a while now. I don’t think I will ever get over how beautiful he is. When he’s in one of his horrendously expensive suits, his beauty is more subdued and meant to enhance his workday rather than stand out. However, when he’s naked, I can see the trace of his Viking forebears — broad shoulders, powerful chest, long legs, arms roped in veins, and all of this covered in golden skin.

He makes me dizzy, but I don’t tell him that very often. He’d be unbearable. So instead, I shiver and say, “It’s getting a little cool, Mags. Should you be naked? Maybe you should cover up, or your sciatica will get worse.”

He rolls his eyes, making me want to laugh. “That wouldn’t be difficult, as I do not have that malady.”

I nod with a lot of emphasis. “Of course. Whatever you say, Mags.”

His lip twitches. “That simply is not true. Do not tempt me into idle daydreams of you being obedient.” He spreads out his arms, and I can’t help but let my gaze drop to his cock. When I look up, he smirks at me. “I think that is one part of me you do not mind stiff, yes?”

I start to laugh. “It’s definitely one of your best features.”

I stroll into the bathroom, feeling the pain tug at my leg. It’s healed now but still aches a lot, and it’s worse today because we’ve been travelling. I expect I’ll always have the ache. Old injuries seem to have a funny habit of popping up like unwanted guests the older you get.

I turn the shower up to hot and slide under with a hiss of pleasure.

When I come out of the bathroom, I look at Mags in surprise. Usually, he’s reading something, and I love the sight of himwith his glasses perched on his nose. It’s a strangely endearing sight. Tonight, however, he’s lying on his back, his arms crossed behind his head as he stares out of the window.

“You alright?” I ask, sliding into bed and feeling the cool, soft sheets with a groan of pleasure.

He blinks and looks over at me, a smile warm in his eyes. He uncrosses his arms and lies back against the pillow, one arm raised in invitation. I immediately roll over, feeling his arm come down tight over my shoulder. I rest my head on his chest, and his fingers run through my hair. I love this so much. Our day-to-day lives are so busy, but this — this is an oasis of contentment that runs through me like melted chocolate.

“What were you thinking about?” I ask, yawning at the end of the sentence.

“Good grief. If you opened your mouth any wider, you would suck the world in.”

I elbow him, hearing him chuckle. “You don’t usually complain about the things I can suck with my big mouth.”

“True. It is the one time in the day that you don’t talk.”

I snort. “So?”

“Oh, I was thinking about our family visits.”

“Are we done for a while now? It’s Luke’s birthday next month, and I need to recharge my social batteries before that.”

“Ack. I think we are done for a decade.”

“You’ll never get away with that. My mother loves you.”

When he speaks, I can hear the humour in his voice. “It is not an unknown emotion around me, I have to say.”

“Neither is extreme aggravation. Anyway, I think we’ll visit your dad and Dorothy again.”

“Why?”

“Because he adores you, and he’s trying.”

“The second part of that statement is definitely true.”

“Plus, I can get my fix of drama without having to watchEastenders.”

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