“Are you two typically snuggle buddies?” she asks with a sarcastic smile.
“Funny.” I walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her middle, just under her breasts because she’s so short, and bury my nose in her hair, breathing her in. “Do you mind?”
She smells better than the flowers.
“It makes sense,” she says as she pushes a sunflower in the vase. “You’ve been staying with me anyway, and Sam doesn’t get home until Monday.”
“Mmm,” I agree. When the flowers are done, I turn her in my arms and cage her in between me and the kitchen island. “We need to talk.”
“So talk.” She raises her chin, meets my gaze head-on, and can’t hide the little touch of fear in her amazing eyes.
And it’s the fear in her eyes that calms the fear in me, because it tells me that we’re on the same damn page.
“I don’t like seeing you flirt with other men.”
She raises a brow. “So?”
I tilt my head and lean in to press my lips to her ear. “It makes me crazy to see another man look at you the way that I do. To know that he wants you, naked, panting, moaning, wrapped around him, the way you were with me just this morning.”
She swallows hard and grips onto my arms, her nails barely digging into my skin. I know she’s turned on. I’m right there with her. Jesus, I can’t get within twenty feet of her without an erection. The pull she has on me is completely new to me.
“I didn’t mean to flirt with him.” Her voice is a rough whisper.
“I’m not saying you did anything wrong. It was innocent enough. But you need to know that even something that innocent makes me crazy, rational or not.” I slide my hand down her back to her ass, then around to the front and push inside her shorts, over her panties, down to her center. I can feel the heat coming off of her.
Fuck, I can smell how turned on she is.
“This is mine.” I kiss her neck and drag my nose down her jawline. “Your body, your skin, your scent, drive me wild. I crave you. And I don’t want anyone else even thinking about you.”
“That’s awfully selfish,” she replies, trying to be sassy, but she’s panting now. I push my hand farther into her pants and press my fingertips against her firmly.
“I’m a selfish bastard. I never claimed otherwise.” She’s so close to the edge. Her eyes are glassy, her lips shiny and plump from biting them. I know how delicious they are.
So I lean in, pull her bottom lip between my teeth and nibble.
Her hands clench my arms as she holds her breath to keep from crying out as she comes in my hand.
Fuck, I want to carry her up to her bedroom and sink inside her right now.
“Excuse me, Miss Boudreaux.”
She stills. I block the view of the intruder with my body, discretely pull my hand out of her shorts and smile down at her with a wink. She clears her throat.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“I’m sorry to interrupt. Would it be possible to get extra towels in our room?”
“Of course. I’ll bring them up in just a few moments.”
“Thank you.”
The guest leaves and Gabby expels a long, deep breath. “What’s up with this kitchen?”
“I’m going to fuck you in it on Sunday when we’re alone. Just out of principle alone.”
“Stop saying stuff like that,” she says with an exasperated frown. “I’m working!”
I cup her face in my hands and just take her in. “You’re beautiful.”
“Still working.”
My thumb brushes her bottom lip. “I didn’t like what I walked into this afternoon.”
“I get it,” she replies and lifts her hand to press her palm against my cheek. “It was nothing. You’re the one I’m sharing my bed with. You’re the one that can make my body explode on command, and I’m not entirely sure how you do that, by the way.”
A slow smile works its way over my face. “Damn right.”
“Laughing at something funny isn’t a big deal.”
“Walking into a room and seeing a man with his hand on my woman is a big deal.” Her eyes widen. “If there was any confusion, let’s clear it up right now. For as long as there is a physical relationship between us, no one else touches you.”
“That goes both ways.”
“Of course.” I kiss her forehead and back away. “Now, get to work. You’re incredibly lazy today, with all the kitchen shenanigans and stuff.”
“You’re nuts,” she says with a laugh.
“Nuts about you.”
***
“This is delicious,” Neil says as he inhales the fried chicken Gabby made for dinner. “There is nothing like southern fried chicken.”
“Thanks,” she replies with a smile. “It’s Sam’s favorite.”
“Sam?” Neil asks.
“My son,” she says. “He’s seven. He’s with my mom this week on vacation. He texted a little while ago. It seems that he and his cousins exhausted my mom and her sister at Disney World today.”
“Good. I’m glad he’s having fun.” I push my finished plate away and rest my arm on the backrest of Gabby’s chair, lift a lock of her hair between my fingers, and begin to mindlessly twirl the soft strands.
I can’t stop touching her damn hair.
Neil’s eyes are watching my hand as he continues to talk to Gabby.
“Sam’s a big Cubs fan,” I add.
“I have some things in my car. A few balls, and I’m pretty sure I have a jersey he can have too. I’ll be sure to give them to you before I leave.”