Close to You(29)

Scoot is lying on my feet.

“Good morning,” Cami says softly. “I don’t remember falling asleep here.”

“You were in a wine coma,” I inform her dryly. “What time is it?”

“I don’t know. It’s Saturday. Do you have to work?”

“Nope, I’m off today. I’d like to spend it with you, if that’s okay.”

She smiles happily. “It’s okay.”

I drag my knuckles down her cheek and kiss her forehead. She feels so good lying on top of me. The only way this would be better would be if I was inside her.

But we’ll get there.

“I’ll make you breakfast,” I offer softly.

“I can make it.” She’s playing with my hair and watching her own fingers as they comb through the strands, then her eyes widen. “Oh no! I have to put my kitchen back together!”

I kiss her, then sit up, taking her with me, and when we’re both on our feet, I guide her back to the kitchen, where she stops cold, eyes wide, surveying the clean room.

“Was I robbed?”

“No.” I laugh and kiss her head, then walk over and open the new pantry door.

“Oh my God.” She walks over and studies the door, then peeks inside. “Oh, it’s so pretty.”

“You did a great job on the paint,” I say, loving how her cheeks have gone pink and her eyes shine as she walks into the pantry and checks it out. “I wasn’t completely sure where you wanted everything, so you can obviously change it, but it’s put away for now at least.”

“You did this for me.” It’s not a question. She turns and looks at me with confusion and elation, all mixed together.

“Of course I did.”

“Why?” She shakes her head, then looks around again. “I mean, I’m grateful, and it looks amazing. It’s exactly what I wanted. But this must have taken you all night.”

“I was done by two,” I reply proudly. “And I did it because I knew you’d like it.”

And because it seems I’d do just about anything for this woman, but I’m not ready to tell her that. Not yet.

“Thank you,” she says, and walks into my arms, her head pressed to my chest, and hugs me tightly. “It’s so great.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Now I have the whole day free.” She kisses my chest, then pulls away, shuts the door of the pantry, gives it a grin, and moves to the fridge. “How do you want your eggs?”

“So you are making breakfast?”

“Yes, sir. I haven’t cooked for you. Eggs?”

“Scrambled.”

She nods and begins pulling ingredients out of the fridge. “Scrambled it is. I’m also going to make ham, potatoes, and toast.”

“That’s quite a feast.”

“It’s all part of a balanced breakfast,” she says with a wink. God, she’s sassy. Has she always been this sassy? This much fun? “Plus, you’ve earned it.”

“Have I earned a shower?”

“Definitely.” She keeps gathering supplies. “Go help yourself. This should be just about ready by the time you’re done.”

“I can stay and help.”

“I’m good. Go ahead.” She waves me off, already concentrating on the task at hand. “Oh, I have to feed you, little man.” She bends over to scratch Scoot behind his ears and he doesn’t even bat at her this time.

They’re making progress.

Before I leave to take my shower, I pull her into my arms and kiss her soundly. She melts against me, her hands planted on my arms. She kisses me back, as if I’m the best thing since sliced bread. Her tongue tangles with mine, and one of her hands glides up over my shoulder and into my hair at the back of my head.

I growl. She tastes amazing, and she feels even better. Her grip on my hair tightens. She clenches her fist, almost pulling my hair, and I can’t stand it. I boost her up onto the countertop and grind my now hard cock against her crotch, squeezing her ass and pulling her tightly against me. She groans and rotates her hips, pushing. I slip my hand under the shirt she’s still wearing from last night, skim up over her ribs, and cover her small breast with my palm, and squeeze gently. She covers my hand with hers and encourages me to squeeze harder.

Suddenly the smoke alarm goes off, startling us both, and we stare at each other for a moment as we breathe hard, both our mouths wet and swollen, her eyes are glassy.

I glance over at the stove. The pan she put on the burner to heat up is smoking.

“Oops,” she says, and giggles, twists out of my hold, and moves the pan. “Go get in the shower. I’m hungry.”