Page 111 of Concealed

“I wanted the first thing that came to your head. Matt stole so much from me, and you’re the first good thing to happen to me in ages.”

“We’ll invite Gabe to the wedding,” Wyatt jokes. “We owe him.”

I almost cut my hand off because there is nothing funny about marrying Wyatt, and he better damn well be serious that he pictures a ceremony in our future. But I play it cool because it’s definitely too soon for that conversation.

Baby steps.

There’s no rush.

“Do you want a dog?” I ask.

“Yes. We can get two, as long as they weigh at least 70 pounds each. I’m not walking a damn Yorkie.”

“Fair. Do you want kids?” I ask.

“Oh, I see how it is, the dog question was just a warm-up.”

God, I love his laugh and the fact that we can still laugh. Being with him makes me so happy that it’s impossible not to smile no matter what crazy challenges we’re facing.

It’s a cliché that laughter is the best medicine, but if you can take on life’s tribulations together with a smile, then you’ve found a true partner.

“Yes,” Wyatt says. “We can have two of those, too, or however many you want.”

“What makes you think I want kids?”

Wyatt shrugs. “You’re a teacher. You love kids. Why wouldn’t you?”

“I’ve always wanted a big family,” I admit.

“Now it’s my turn. What’s your favorite part of my body?”

I smile while spreading mayonnaise on the bread. “Your dick.”

“Perfect. I love your stripper tits. What’s your favorite position?”

“Riding you so that I can watch your expressions when you come.”

“How are you making me this horny when you’re just making a sandwich?” Wyatt complains.

“It might be the fact that you turned our game into sex. What’s your favorite position?”

“It’s a toss-up. I love sixty-nine. I also love up against the wall. And from behind with my balls slapping your ass. And–”

I set the knife on the island with a loud clack. “Do you want to consummate our new relationship?”

Wyatt chuckles. “I can honestly say I’ve never been asked that question before.”

I move into his arms and kiss the column of his throat. “Okay. Do you want to fuck me now and eat later?”

“And I’ve never been asked that question by a sexier woman.”

“Well played, officer.”

“I want to eat you now and the sandwich later.”

My rumbling stomach sinks to the bottom of my priority list when I meet the hungry look in his eyes. We’ve just been through the wringer, and it’s clear that he needs to lose himself in me – and I need it, too.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I suggest. “I want–”

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