Page 48 of No Limits

He puts the knife down and looks up at me. “Oh, really? You want me to fuck you in this kitchen?”

“Of course I do.”

With strong hands, he parts my thighs and steps between them. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he says against my lips.

One quick movement later, my pants are off, a hiss escaping my teeth as my ass hits the icy granite beneath me.

His arm is around my waist, and he tugs me to the edge, where he immediately presses into me. He knows no foreplay is needed.

“Fuck, Shay. So fucking wet and ready for me.”

“Always. I’m always ready for you.” One of my hands wraps around the back of his neck while the other grips the counter.

As he thrusts in and out, rocking my body against the counter, his phone rings. Quickly he grabs it, slides the ignore button, and slams it facedown behind me. He hits it so hard I’m afraid he could have cracked the screen.

But that doesn’t matter, and I appreciate his dedication and focus on what’s going on between us. Not too long ago, he would have been all too eager to stop what we’re doing and answer it.

Instead, he keeps moving inside me, changing it up to pull out slowly and then slam back in hard. He watches me with a parted mouth as he does so, wanting to see the pinched face and look of ecstasy I have.

This whole experience takes me back several years to when we had sex in the kitchen in his apartment when I visited him for his birthday. That was a time when I was finding the real me, figuring out who I am and what I like and what I want.

This feels a little similar as we come back to each other.

With a quick swoop, he pulls me off the counter, keeping himself planted firmly inside me, and walks over to the door that leads to the garage. He presses me against it and pounds into me.

The wood behind me bangs and cracks with our movements, and for a moment, I’m worried it may fracture behind us. But I don’t care. If it breaks, it’ll be worth it, and he’ll fix it.

But it takes only three more pumps before I’m gripping his shirt and tightening around him. He hisses through his teeth and shudders as his head falls against the door with athunk.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so damn sexy.” He leans back to grab the paper towels, then he lowers me to the ground and helps clean me up.

“Well, that was nostalgic.”

“Except, better. Because not only do we have more space, but we don’t have to worry about anybody else coming in or hearing us.” A wide grin spans his face.

“Agreed.”

After we’ve righted our clothes, he wraps an arm around my waist and yanks me against him, pressing his lips to mine.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” My arms swoop around his neck, and I snuggle into his chest. Everything about this time we’ve been working things out has been so much better. He’s more the Lochlyn I’ve known, that I’ve been used to.

“I’m going to finish dinner and come sit with you in the living room. Do you have more work to do?”

“I have a little left. But it can wait until later. I’m sure you’ll have some things to do as well.” One part of Lochlyn being home that’s been nice is he’s adjusted his routine to do some of the paperwork at home instead of in the office. I usually sit with him while he does it, and while we’re each doing our own thing, we’re together. And that’s what counts.

I stick around in the kitchen while he finishes preparing the ingredients. He chops some veggies and tosses them in a pan with butter, flour, and spices. The little bit of teaching he gave me and I know he’s making a roux, but for what I’m not sure. My assumption is a soup of some sort.

No matter what, it smells delicious, and I’m sure it will taste equally as good. Once all the ingredients are in the pot, he takes my hand and pulls me to the couch. The new one we bought together.

His test was to lie on it and see if he could fit, head to toe. If not, we didn’t consider it.

It’s in these moments, these small ones together when nothing else is going on that everything feels like it’s back on track. We’re not back where we had been. I still harbor some anxiety about his time and how he’s divvying it up. And I know he has concerns at times that not answering the phone can have major consequences.

The biggest difference is that now we talk about it. We lie in bed at night and discuss our worries, our fears, and try to calm the other. There’s no more keeping it to ourselves, no more of the other person not knowing how we feel about the situation.

Our wedding is only a few weeks away and everything feels like it’s the way it should be.

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