Chapter 21 #2
I shift into a sitting position and pull a blanket around myself. “It won't be the same. There's this little shop in Denver with the most amazing bread. It just hits different, you know?”
He swings his legs over the side of the couch and pulls on his jeans, but not before I get a glimpse of his round ass in all its glory. He glances over his shoulder and catches me staring. His lips roll together. “I can’t exactly fly to Colorado right now. Have you tried Catalano’s?”
“Never heard of it.”
“It’s a family-owned deli in Willow Valley. Callie should be getting off work soon. I can have her pick it up for us.”
“I guess it’s worth a shot.”
An hour later, Callie drops off a large brown paper bag, but she doesn’t stick around long to chat. She has her prenatal appointment to check on the twins.
Griffin unpacks the food onto the coffee table and passes me the box with my avocado BLT inside.
I take a large bite, savoring the combination of flavors.
The avocado is fresh and creamy, the bacon is savory, and the mayo adds the perfect amount of tang.
Even the tomato and lettuce are crisp and flavorful.
It would be the perfect sandwich except…
“You don’t like it,” Griffin says.
It’s not a question. How the hell does he read me so well?
“No, I do. It’s really freaking good. It’s just not Denver.”
“It’s okay. I can make you something else if you want.”
I shake my head and take another bite. It’s a great sandwich, it’s just not my sandwich. Maybe it’s not the perfectly crispy crust or the soft, chewy middle, or even the flavor I’ve been craving. Maybe it’s the nostalgia and the memories of my old life that come with it.
“I’ll keep looking,” he says. “I promise I'll get you the perfect avocado BLT before our baby arrives.”
I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of me. “You gonna fly all the way to Denver? Charter a plane?”
“Maybe. If that’s what it takes.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
His expression sobers. “I would do anything for you, Angel.”
Griffin
“I’m going back to work tomorrow,” Angie says as she sets the leftovers in the fridge.
I lean back against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest and adopting a casual stance. In reality, I'm still worried about her and the baby, and about what might happen if I’m not there.
“Are you sure?” I ask tentatively.
She gathers her hair in a bun on the top of her head and secures it with a hair tie, causing my shirt to ride up her thighs. I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.
I don’t.
All I want… All I can think about is caging her in and dropping to my knees right here in the kitchen.
“Yeah. I miss it. Besides, it’s been over an hour, and I managed to keep my food down. I think I can handle the few appointments I have on my schedule. Doc said he could take on any emergencies for a while.”
Knowing she’ll have Doc’s support sets my mind at ease. I don’t like the idea of her being on her feet so much, but I wouldn’t dream of telling her what to do. “You should come out to the sanctuary. Check on Sadie with me.”
It’s a sorry excuse to have her near me, but I have no shame when it comes to Angie.
“I’d love that. Do you want to spend the night? We could go together in the morning.”
My heart leaps. “You want me to stay? Weren’t you trying to get rid of me earlier?”
“There have been some… developments since then.”
Temptation wins out, and I prowl toward her, trapping her against the kitchen counter, one hand on either side of her waist. “Do these developments involve my face between your legs?”
One finger trails down my bare chest, and her gaze follows the movement. “Maybe.”
I dip lower until my nose brushes against her cheek. “You hoping for a repeat performance, baby girl?”
She lets out a quiet moan and leans into me, so her cheek brushes mine. “God, I want that. But I’m so tired.”
I smile and press a soft kiss to her cheek. “Let’s get ready for bed, then.”
Angie intertwines our fingers and guides me down the hallway to her bedroom, with its bright white canopy bed, gossamer curtains, pink bedding, and florals everywhere.
We stride past everything into a large en-suite bathroom with a double vanity, a soaker tub, and a clear glass shower.
Everything matches her bedroom perfectly, with shimmering white porcelain and pink and gold accents.
She stops in front of the shower and turns on the water. As the steam billows around the room, her hands make quick work of the only two buttons keeping her body hidden from me. My shirt drops to the floor, and it’s a goddamn miracle I don’t follow right along with it.
She reaches for my jeans, popping the button.
“What are you doing, Angel?”
“About to shower with my husband.” She pushes my jeans down to pool at my feet. “Unless he’s not up for it.”
Husband. I must be hallucinating because I swear she just called me her husband.
Fucking finally.
I grip her hips and walk us away from the pile of clothes on the floor. “He’s definitely up for it,” I murmur against the shell of her ear. “Say it again.”
“Husband.”
I let out a feral sound somewhere close to a growl. My hands grip under her ass, and I hoist her up my body. Her long legs wrap around my waist as I walk us into the shower and press her against the wall. Warm water cascades over my shoulders and back, pooling between us.
My mouth descends on her neck and collarbone, eliciting more of those sounds I love. I’m rock hard in an instant. I lower her to the tile and take a step back. “If we don’t stop, I’m gonna fuck you.”
“Is that a promise?”
Her hand presses to my sternum as she pushes me under the spray. I lean back and let the water soak my hair. Angie wraps one of her hands around my hard cock, and my eyes snap open just in time to see her drop to her knees.
She licks up the underside of my shaft, pausing to suck on the engorged tip.
I pull the hair tie off her hair and wrap the silky strands around my fist. She repeats the movement, staring up at me with a wide-eyed gaze and a subtle flush on her cheeks.
I could come from just the vision of her like this.
She takes me into her mouth inch by torturous inch, pulling back and pushing forward again. I give one experimental thrust forward, hitting the back of her throat. She pops off my cock and smiles. “Do it. Take what you need.”
Jesus Christ.
My wife is going to ruin me.
“Touch yourself. Show me what a needy little slut you are, and maybe I’ll give you what you’re asking for.”
Her hand trails down her torso, disappearing between her thick, tiger-striped thighs.
I love every fucking inch of her body, every dimple and stretch mark.
Every single curve and valley was made expressly for my hands.
God, I can’t wait to watch her body change and grow with our baby.
Until then, I’ll revel in the sight of her on her knees for me.
“Look at you. So fucking perfect. Open for me.”
She takes me in, hollowing her cheeks. A thrill courses through me as I pump into her hot, wet mouth. She licks and sucks around my length as her fingers continue to work between her thighs. She moans around my shaft, the sound reverberating through me.
“Fuuuuck,” I groan as she drives me closer to the brink.
Her free hand cups my balls, kneading them in her dainty palm. My pulse quickens at the sensation.
She releases me, gasping for breath. “I’m almost there.”
“That’s it, baby girl. Keep those eyes on me. Wanna watch you lose control while I paint you with my cum.”
“Please.” She whimpers, and suddenly I’m the one losing control.
My entire world splinters apart. I come undone, coating her chest and neck in my release. Seconds later, Angie throws her head back and comes on a cry. I tug her up by her hair and seal my mouth over hers, not giving a single fuck where her mouth has been. She melts into the kiss.
“Goddamn, that was the hottest experience of my life,” I tell her.
She smirks. “Better than Denver?”
“Mm. Denver’s a close second.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because this time I get to call you my wife.”
“You really like that, huh?”
I turn us around so she’s under the warm water, tilting her head back. Her eyes close as I run my hands through her hair. I lean forward and kiss the tip of her nose. “It’s a privilege.”
I squirt some of her fragrant shampoo into my palm and lather the dark strands.
She doesn’t try to stop me or question why.
If she asked, I’d tell her it’s my way of savoring every second with her because it could be my last. She could wake up one day and decide Vegas was a mistake, and I’d still have all these little moments to look back on.
I rinse and repeat the process with her conditioner, running my fingers along her scalp.
When that’s done, I wash every delicious inch of her soft body, then I wrap my arms around her from behind, pressing my lips to the gentle slope of her shoulder.
“Go get ready for bed. I’ll just finish up here. ”
Once I’ve finished in the shower, I find a brand new toothbrush waiting for me on the sink, still in its packaging. I brush my teeth and set it in the holder next to hers. It’s so perfectly domestic.
I stride into her bedroom, towel drying my hair, and I pull up short when I see her curled up on her side of the bed, fast asleep in nothing but an oversized T-shirt.
I toss the towel into the hamper and lift her into my arms, shifting her to the side of the bed away from the door before I tuck the blankets around her.
The entire time, she doesn’t so much as flinch.
After a quick trip into the living room to lock up and turn off the lights, I slide into bed and wrap myself around her. We slot together like two halves of a whole, and it’s not long before I drift off to sleep with my wife in my arms.