Tied Up, Tied Down(28)
So why did she secretly wish for his public display of affection? For that hunky cowboy to swoop in and kiss her madly? Spirit her up to her office, sweep everything off the desk and screw her silly on her day planner?
Probably because she was suffering from sleep deprivation. Passion like that only happened in the movies. Real life for her was spread sheets, diapers, sleepless nights and if she was lucky, a quick bout of nookie before the baby woke up.
She’d never had much of a sex life, so the fact she was getting some good lovin’ on a regular basis should’ve made her swoon like giggling maiden. So why did it bug the crap out of her that sex had turned…routine? And that was saying a lot, coming from someone like Skylar who thrived on routine. Not only was she too chicken to take a chance on initiating sex with Kade, she was afraid he’d balk at seeing her flab-ulous post-baby body and end all sexual contact. She kept all naked encounters in the dark, figuring so-so sex was better than no sex? Right?
Wrong. The niggling feeling that something was missing outside of the bedroom didn’t help her frame of mind because she had no frame of reference for a situation like this—sexually or personally. For the first time in a long time, she had no plan of attack, no earthly idea on how to go about implementing changes.
Sky left the office and headed home. The big screen TV in the living room wasn’t on. Kade wasn’t sprawled on the couch. The baby wasn’t in the bassinet. She tracked Kade to the kitchen where he was slouched against the back door and yakking on his cell phone.
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. Because it’s been a long goddamn time since we done it together. Ah fuck you, I ain’t forgot how to do it. Let’s say, I’ve been doin’ some practicin’ on my own.”
She froze. Who was he talking to? What kind of practicing was he referring to?
“Right. Nah, I guess I don’t give a shit what people say about us either. So, tomorrow? Fine. I’ll be there.” Click.
Kade slipped the cell phone in his pocket and wheeled around with a guilty look. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.” Her gaze scanned the kitchen. “Where’s Eliza?”
His eyes widened in mock-horror. “Shit. I don’t know. I guess I musta left her in the barn next to the bucket of rusty nails, the pissed off horse and the loaded shotgun.”
“Funny.”
“You wouldn’t think so if it was me constantly askin’ you where our daughter was.”
Whoa. He was a little testy. “Sorry. Habit.”
“One I wish you’d break.” Kade dragged a hand through his hair and flopped in a chair. “Anyway, she’s asleep. There’s soup on the stove if you’re hungry.”
“You cooked?”
“No. Ma sent it home with me, so you know it’s edible and it ain’t chili. Again.”
Really testy.
Skylar dished up. She sat across from him and ate in silence. As she rinsed her bowl, Kade wrapped an arm around her waist.
He removed the clip holding her messy mane and draped the waves across her shoulders, burying his face in her hair. “You always smell so damn good.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“Your hair is beautiful. Don’t ever cut it. I’d like to feel it draped across my body as you’re ridin’ me. Bet it feels like silk on my skin.” He angled her head and kissed her neck.
Immediately tingles raced from that spot straight to her core.
“Skylar. I want you so damn bad. Let me have you.”
The man made her wet with just words. “Let’s go upstairs.”
“No. Right here in the kitchen. Spread out on this counter so I can feast on you with the evenin’ sun shinin’ on your glossy hair.”
“What’s wrong with feasting on me in a bed?”
“Nothin’.” Kade’s hands curled around her hips. “Come on, sweetheart. Be spontaneous. Be adventurous. We’re closer to the chocolate syrup here. I’d sure like to drizzle it on your sweet spot and make you my Tuesday sundae.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Maybe some other time. Take me to bed, cowboy.”
“No.” Kade stepped back, way back, letting her arms drop to her sides. “Why are you so insistent on me makin’ love to you only in a bed?”
“Why are you being so insistent on doing me in the kitchen in broad daylight?”
“What’s wrong with that? Knockin’ the dishes to the floor and havin’ my wicked way with you on the table?”
Her briefly liberating thought: Hallelujah! A man who cares enough to figure out what I want, was replaced with her usual paranoid thought: No way! It’s neon bright in here and you’d be disgusted with my cottage cheese thighs and jelly belly.