Page 94 of Nothing But It All
Almost.
Slowly, he comes back to earth and lowers me gently to the mattress. He slides out of me and then collapses on the bed at my side.
My heart swells as I take in the look on his face.
“How was that?” he asks, resting his head on his arm.
“I give it five stars.”
He grins. “I’m glad.”
“How was it for you?”
“Ten stars.”
I laugh. “I’m glad.”
He reaches for me, pulling me so that we’re lying side by side. He feathers a finger up and down my arm.
“Our maintenance plan needs to include that at least five times a week,” he says, peering down at me with amusement written all over his face.
“I don’t know.”
His brows shoot to the ceiling.“You don’t know?”
“No. I don’t know. I happen to remember a few other things you used to do that I really,reallyliked. I might want to swap some of that out.”
He smirks. “I think we have a problem.”
“Oh, really?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He presses a loud, wet kiss to my lips. “Looks like we’re going to have to take a bath—then I’ll probably need a snack and maybe a nap. But then you’re going to have to go to all the trouble of explainingexactlywhat it is you want me to add to the plan.”
I smirk back. “I’m not sure I can describe it. We might need a run-through to make sure we’re on the same page.”
He rises and hops off the bed. “Then I’m going to get the bath started so we can get back to show-and-tell.”
I laugh as he disappears into the bathroom.
There he is. There’s the man I married. The selfless, fun, loving, absolutely beautiful man I fell hopelessly in love with.
I’ve missed that man so much.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
LAUREN
Istretch, feeling the pull in my muscles all the way through my toes.
Jack sits beside me, propped up against his pillows, holding a book. His hair is a mussy, wild mess and still damp from our bath. A contented smile stretches across his lips.
I’ve dozed off and on since our second round between the sheets. The follow-up wasn’t as frenzied as the first. There was more kissing, exploring, and talking. Playing.Teasing.It was carefree and fun in a way I’d forgotten sex could be.
“What are you reading?” I ask, yawning.
“The Great Gatsby. I found it in my middle console. Forgot I slipped it in there before I came.”
“Interesting choice.”
