Page 141 of Almost Love

Jim pretended to look affronted on Oakley’s behalf and she sighed at the dramatics. “Both of you can be butt hurt all you want. Please let Eloise know that we’ll come around another day.”

The men nodded and walked back inside. She tossed the keys to Oakley and climbed into the passenger seat. They drove in silence, Gracie snoozing between them. There was no discussion necessary, because fifteen minutes later he parked in her driveway. He carried Gracie and the flowers, while she retrieved the box she’d saved for him and let them into the house. They’d never donethisbefore, but with the way they moved around each other, it would seem like they had. Once he’d put Gracie in her dog bed—Clementine had bought one a few weeks ago—Oakley followed her to the kitchen.

“I realized I didn’t get to eat a single thing at the Fling,” he said, pouting.

She opened the extra box and slid it over to him. With two bottles of water in hand, she pulled the jar of buttercream from the freezer to the fridge.

“You saved a lot.”

She stepped up beside him as he looked at the mismatched items of donuts, cupcakes, cookies and a few brownies. She’d also managed to snag some fudge. “The cake tasters sold out pretty quickly, but we can make some tomorrow.”

“Honestly, this is enough.Youare the only dessert I need.”

“Ridiculous,” she muttered, kissing his shoulder.

He kissed her forehead, one arm sliding around her waist. “By the way, Idohave a notebook with all of this written down.”

“Can I see it?”

“It’s in the Jeep. I’ll get it tomorrow.”

Nodding, Clementine stayed leaning against him, letting peace wash over her as she inhaled his ocean and fresh laundry scent. It had only been a few days apart, but it felt like so much more.

“Shower?” she asked, leaning away and he nodded. “Put that in the fridge.”

She walked to the bathroom, adjusted the taps to get the right temperature and stripped out of her clothes, leaving everything in a pile outside the bathroom. Clementine tossed her hair into a bun and stepped under the water as he walked into the bathroom. His eyes did a slow sweep of her body, from head to toe, and got naked as well.

“I missed you,” he mumbled, hands brushing along her sides once he was in the shower with her.

His eyes were dark and hooded as his fingers danced across her bare skin. As she adjusted their position so water fell over both of them, his gaze never left her. If anything, his fingers were more insistent on her skin, digging into her sides. She reached for her shower gel and squirted some into her hands, and only then did his attention move to her face.

“There you are,” she teased.

“My sheets still smell like you. I’m pretty sure there’s a Clementine shaped indent on my couch too.”

“You should probably wash those sheets. Way too many bodily fluids.”

He snorted, then hissed as her soapy hands landed on his stomach. He kept his eyes on her as she lathered his torso, flicking at his nipples playfully, before moving to his shoulders and arms. His gaze burned against her skin and she loved everyminute of it. She spent a few minutes touching and tracing his new tattoos. Then she slid her arms around his waist, hands running up and down his back. He leaned in slightly, lips brushing against the top of her cheek as she grabbed his ass in both hands and squeezed.

“Is it my turn yet?” he rasped.

She nodded and turned in his arms, smiling as his hands landed on her back, sliding down to her ass. He didn’t spend too much time there, his hands moving up her back and over her shoulders. She sighed softly as he trailed soap down her arms and slipped his fingers between hers. She was ready to turn when he dropped his mouth to her neck.

“Don’t move,” he whispered, releasing her hands to lather the soap around her hips. She swayed slightly, eyes slipping shut as his nose nudged the spot behind her ear. His hands moved to her stomach and further up, gently cupping her breasts in both hands. A shiver wracked her body and she arched into his touch. His thumbs toyed with her nipples and she pushed her ass against him, feeling him hard against her.

Suddenly he stopped touching her and she huffed in irritation, glaring at him over her shoulder.

“I don’t want make-up sex to be in the shower.”

“Maybe we’re not making up with sex anymore,” she countered.

He leaned in, lips inches away from hers. “Might want to tell your nipples that, melor. Because they’re itching to be touched right now.”

She reached between them and rubbed her thumb over his crown, smirking when he shuddered. “You might want to tell your downstairs brain to calm down first.”

Oakley grunted as they rinsed off, hands brushing against each other. Once she was done, she wrapped the towel aroundher body and walked out, already thinking of ways to drive him absolutely wild.

Because we’re having make up sex all right.

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