Page 79 of First in Line

Fuck.

Is she getting cold feet again, like last time? Is she suddenly deciding this isn’t right and we should stop? I’m not ready to let go. I won’t ever be, but I hoped I would get at least a little more of her tonight.

When I meet her eyes, it isn’t doubt that veils them, but amusement. “This is extremely uncomfortable,” she explains, arching her back.

“Fuck. Sorry, princess.”

I push myself up, slipping out of her, and lean back at an odd angle, doing my best given our improvised location. She rises to her elbows as I look down at my handiwork. We’ve made a mess,and it’s slowly leaking out of her and onto the thick fabric of her robe below.

“Stair sex… We’ve never done that one before,” she amusedly notes.

“Crazy to think there are still things we haven’t already tried.”

She stretches with a wince before sitting up completely. “This is definitely something we should have done in our early twenties. When I had a sturdier back.”

I grin as I pull up my pants and underwear, shoving my hard length into them.

“Come on,” I decide, offering her my hand. “Round two in your bed.”

When she doesn’t take it right away, hesitantly looking at it, my heart drops into my stomach once more. Fuck, not the post-nut clarity again.

“Don’t do this,” I say gently. “Don’t pull away from me, Evie. It happened. It was inevitable. Now, we can act like adults and admit there’s nothing wrong with it. With giving each other pleasure. Amazing fucking pleasure, I might add.”

My humorous tone makes a smile crack on her face. “It really was amazing,” she sheepishly admits.

“You should see what I can do on a proper bed.”

“Irememberwhat you can do.”

She takes the hand I’m still extending, and I help her to her feet before picking her up bridal-style.

I’m more careful this time as I carry her up the stairs. She guides me to her room, and I walk up to the bed before laying her on it. As I take care of removing the rest of my clothes, she slips the bathrobe off and lets it fall beside the bed.

We’ve got our eyes on one another the entire time, reminiscent, hungry.

Once I’m as naked as she is, I join her on the bed. Even as I position myself over her, I still can’t fucking believe this is happening.

This is my woman. No matter what the law might say, she is my wife. My whole fucking reason to live.

And she’s mine again.

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

Evangeline

“I’m starving,” Jackson lets out, jumping out of the bed with energy.

“And water is wet. More news at noon,” I say, using my best anchor voice.

He turns around, intrigued by my words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re always hungry after we do it.”

“That’s because Ialwaysgive a hundred and ten percent, princess,” he explains, returning to me for a quick kiss. “Come on, I’ll make us dinner.”

I stretch my sore, satisfied body, but don’t leave the bed quite yet. Instead, I lie there, watching him walk around naked as he picks up our stuff from the floor. He’s gotten quite a few tattoos since we moved from Colorado, and I like them a lot. A couple of them are in honor of our relationship, like the Colette’s Diner sign across the side of his ribcage and the likeness of my locket on its chain on the other side, near his heart.