Page 143 of Third and Ten

“That was really thoughtful. Thank you,” I reply, taking a sip. He’s fixed it just the way I like it, but I shouldn’t be surprised. Then I notice that the kitchen and living room look tidier than usual. “Have you been awake a while? Wait—did I accidentally marry a morning person?” I ask, smirking playfully.

He raises one of his shoulders and drops it again. “I think I just had a lot of pent-up energy this morning.” Then he takes a bite of his eggs and chews thoughtfully.

My cheeks warm as I attempt to hide behind my mug. I’m feeling quite the opposite after last night’s marathon, still tired and pleasantly sore in unexpected places. It turns out that, professional knowledge and expertise aside, whatever I thought I knew about sex before was wrong. I honestly hadn’t expected it to be that good for me, considering the circumstances and my past experiences, but JD hadn’t been kidding before about putting all his research to use.

Whether it was due to the physical attraction or our emotional connection, or even that he’d found some kind of cheat code, he managed to get it right on the first try. Like, he’d gotten it so right that I literally cried, because I hadn’t even understood how right it could feel before then. This went beyond mere physical gratification. For the first time ever, I was comfortable in my own skin (and nothing else). Instead of being embarrassed, I felt safe, loved, cherished…whole.

And then I fell apart, becoming a snotty, sobbing mess, and JD was forced to comfort me while I apologized for letting my insecurities get in the way of our relationship for so long and explained how I never imagined I could love someone this much.

Of course, his answer to my hormone-induced declaration that marrying him was “already the best decision I’ve ever made” was to say that if he’d known he was this good in bed, he would have just led with that a few months ago.

“You’re going to be unbearably cocky after this, aren’t you?”

He shrugs but his grin never falters. “Maybe. Should I be?” he asks, though his expression says he already knows the answer to that question.

“You just accomplished a twenty-four-hour job in a single attempt,” I reply. “I may never let you put your clothes back on.”

He chuckles and tilts his chin up. “Is that so? Well, just wait until you see what I can do with the rest of that time. I have been taking notes for a while, remember?”

I feel another flash of heat as he trails a line of kisses down my chest and up again. “I guess you really have become a Tenley expert, then.”

“I’m working on my terminal degree,” he murmurs. He reaches over and picks up my hand, bringing my wrist to his mouth. I shiver, my body having already decided that I’m at his mercy.

“I love you,” I whisper, my eyes watering again.

“I love you too, wifey,” he returns before he captures my mouth with his again…

I clear my throat and take another sip, bringing myself back to the present. Is it weird to fantasize about my own husband while he’s sitting right beside me?

“So, um, what do you have planned today?” I ask, glancing sidelong at his arms and hoping my thoughts aren’t as obvious as they seem.

“Eh, I’ve got a short to-do list. But it’ll probably take all morning.”

“Oh. Okay.” I’m a little disappointed that he isn’t even trying to bring me back to bed, in all honesty, but I suppose we can’t stay in our honeymoon bubble forever.

“Wanna help?”

“Sure,” I agree hesitantly. I’m not exactly big on gardening and yard work, unless it involves watching JD mow the lawn without a shirt.

“All right, then. Let’s get started.” He drops his fork onto the empty plate and turns to lift me from my chair.

“What the—JD!” I squeal as he throws me over his shoulder and carries me back into the bedroom.

“You’re it, Mrs. Bourgeois,” he says plainly, punctuating his sentence with a light smack on my butt.

“What?” I repeat from behind him. I have to admit, the view isn’t all that bad from this angle.

“My to-do list.” He flashes a cheesy smile after he leans over and carefully sets me down on the bed. Then he stops to peel his shirt off, and I sigh contentedly since he’s all mine to stare at now. “I told you. I blocked out our whole morning. We’re still under quarantine for the next few hours.”

I throw my head back and laugh, until I remember that I was supposed to initiate an important conversation before I let this happen again.

“You didn’t really think I was done trying everything I learned after collecting all that data, did you?” He joins me in bed, kissing down the side of my neck and sliding his hands up my thighs and backside.

Man, do I love his massive hands and the way they fit around me. As corny as it sounds, it feels like we were made for each other.

Stop getting distracted and spit it out, my brain scolds me.

“JD,” I begin, my voice breathy. He leans back and tugs at the hem of my shirt until I raise my arms, allowing him to pull it up over my head and toss it to the side. Then he immediately returns his lips to my bare shoulder.

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