Page 198 of Top Shelf
His gaze slides down to me. “Yes.”
Heat rolls through me, and I step around him and inspect the room. “So…”
“So?”
“There’s one important moving-in tradition we haven’t done.”
Viktor glances toward the kitchen. “We had pizza.”
“Yep.”
“And champagne.”
“Carina drank most of it.”
“She did.” His eyes move toward the foyer, then toward the mountain of boxes. “And I assembled the bed.”
I wait, and he frowns, thinking.
“We have changed the locks.”
His eyes flit around the room, glancing up at the ceiling.
“Smoke alarms?”
“Jesus Christ, Karlsson.”
His gaze finally settles properly on my face and I raise my eyebrows. Understanding arrives slowly, then all at once.
“Ah.” His mouth curves.“You mean sex.”
“Not just sex, it's christening our marital home sex.”
“Yes. You just said sex but with more words.”
“I was trying to be romantic, Viktor!”
“You are very romantic.”
“Thank you.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “I like when you say sex.”
Heat crawls over my skin. “Well, luckily for you, I can say it again.”
He steps closer. “Do it, then.”
“Sex.”
Another step. “Again.”
I’m smiling when he catches me around the waist.
“Sex.”
His mouth hits mine, and the kiss starts with laughing but loses the joke somewhere between the living room and the stairs. By the time we reach the bedroom, Viktor has my shirt half untucked and I have both hands beneath his T-shirt, palms dragging over the warm muscle of his back as he walks me toward the bed. When the mattress catches behind my knees, I glance at the sturdy wooden frame he was so determined to assemble before anything else in this house, then back at him.
“You planned this.”
