Page 91 of Game Plan

I rise on my knees, pulling his shirt over my head, and bring my mouth to his. His fingers feather up and down my back, over the curve of my hip and ass. Usually, I’d focus on how those touches turn me on. I’d keep them tucked safely inside our benefits package.

But tonight? I let myself feel everything with this man.

“Wow, Pop,” he says, pulling back and breaking our kiss. His grin is ridiculous.

“What?”

He chuckles, but not from laughter. From disbelief. “Nothing.”

“You don’t say Wow, Pop for funsies,” I say, lifting a brow.

“I was just wondering how many times you can blow my mind.”

“I’ve kissed you a thousand times before. What’s mind-blowing about that?”

He brushes our lips together once more, nipping my bottom lip as he leans back. “Because you almost seem like you like me tonight.”

“Shut up,” I say, laughing.

He laughs, too. “You know what I mean.”

“I fear I don’t.” Although I absolutely do. “But should I take it as a hint that you’re still wearing pants after I’ve been completely naked now for five full minutes?”

“If you think I’m going to ask you to get off my lap or move your tits out of my face for any reason, you’re crazy.” He grins devilishly. “But if you’d like to get up, I’m more than happy to get naked for you, my lady.”

I crawl off him, the air way too cold without the shirt, and make my way to the headboard. “The things I want to do to you disqualify me from being a lady.”

“Always the sweet talker.”

I burrow myself beneath the blankets. He follows me close behind, sans pants, and joins me under the covers.

“You’d save a fortune if you didn’t keep it the temperature of a freezer in here,” I say, curling up to his side and shivering.

“It was all a ploy to get you to cuddle with me.”

I wrap my arm around his chest, pressing up. “Then I shouldn’t reward this behavior.”

“It’s a little late for that now.”

His arms tighten around me, and I consider squirming away. But the thought of not being in his arms makes it clear that I don’t really have a point to prove. I do, however, climb over his body and curl up to his other side, throwing my arm over his chest.

“Weird, but okay,” he says, repositioning the blankets over us.

I hold my hand up. “I wanted to be able to see the ring.”

He chuckles, kissing my forehead. “I’ll admit that I felt like a loser when I didn’t know which ring you’d like.”

“Why should you have known that?”

“I don’t know. It just felt like something I should know.”

“It’s not like I wear a lot of jewelry,” I say. “Especially rings. And it’s not like we were having engagement conversations like a lot of couples do before the big day so these choices can be informed decisions.”

He traces designs against my skin. “Why don’t you wear jewelry? Do you just not like it?”

“Mom had a thing growing up about wearing necklaces to bed. She was afraid I’d choke in my sleep.” I smile against him. “I don’t know how I wouldn’t know that I was choking, or why I couldn’t get help if I woke up strangled, but whatever.”

Finn chuckles.