Page 154 of Major Love

“It’s perfect,” she says back to me, a gentle blush on her cheeks as my eyes linger on her breasts. Then she dips down to kiss my stubble and whispers softly against me, “Thank you.”

My chest muscles swell as I lift a hand to her nape, meeting her mouth with mine in a sweltering kiss.

And my other palm courses slowly up and down her back, occasionally gripping the strings of her bikini while I gently stroke her tongue with mine.

I walk us slowly over to the other side of the hot-tub, my mouth never leaving hers as I settle her down on her feet.

Then I’m towering over her and leaning down as she arches up to me, her fingers threading through my hair as I kiss a trail down her neck.

I haven’t shaved in a while because I’ve gathered that Sunday loves my stubble, and she all but gasps when I reach her chest, the rough bristles scrubbing over her softness. I smirk as she pulls me in tighter, rubbing gently over her skin as she digs her nails into my back.

But then I’m standing upright again and looming over her, searching her shy expression for a couple of beats before turning her around so her back’s to my chest.

She leans her head between my large pecs and I wrap my biceps around her shoulders, gathering her close against my body as we look up into the snow-covered forest.

I lean down so that I can rest my jaw against her cheek, and she reaches back with one hand, stroking my neck as the snow drifts down like icing sugar from the pines.

“All of this,” I murmur, “all of this is yours, if you want it to be.”

Her lashes flutter as she looks up at the unbelievable view in front of us, her breathing turning shallow as I kiss her cheek, my forearms resting heavily against her breasts.

Between Case coming home in less than a week, and Sunday receiving a call this morning from the bar in Nashville that wants her to work for them, she’s been more quiet than usual since I picked her up at Casey’s bar, gnawing incessantly on her bottom lip like she’s trying to stop herself from saying something.

“I want whatever’s best for you,” I tell her roughly. “No matter what.”

She swallows breathlessly and nods, caressing my nape as she stares ahead, and then she says, “When the bar in Nashville called this morning… they upped their offer.”

My biceps ripple as I hold her tighter, but I keep my breathing even because this is important to her.

Because if Sunday managed to turn one of the smallest bars in Nashville into Broadway’s most-loved bar, who knows how insane the revenue could get if she put that work into a place that’s alreadybig.

“They told me at the start of the year that I basically had until the end of March to make my decision, and seeing as I hadn’t expressed much interest, they…”

Sunday glances up at me over her shoulder and laughs shyly as she searches my eyes.

“They pulled out the big guns,” she finishes, and I chuckle quietly at her choice of words. “Like, really big,” she emphasises, biting her lip again as her brow creases.

“How big?” I ask quietly, smiling down at her when she strokes my biceps.

“Well, notthisbig,” she teases, and then she squeals happily when I bury my face in her neck, kissing and sucking at her perfect skin as she laughs, thoroughly distracted.

“I can show you the email if you want,” she whispers finally, her breathing ragged after the bout of foreplay that we just gave into.

“Sure,” I rumble back to her, my chest heaving as she lifts herself over the ledge, and then I watch her hips as she pads back inside the house, coming out half a minute later with her cell dangling loosely in her right hand.

I pull a rolled-up towel from the pile on the ledge and spread it out so that she can set her phone on it, and then she dips back into the water, taking her position against my chest as she unlocks her phone.

I stare up at the pines, absently playing with Sunday’s fluffy ponytail while she finds the email, and then she whispers my name to recapture my attention and I drop my chin to her shoulder, looking at her phone with her.

I stare at the email for about thirty seconds, reading it three times before I finally look away.

They offered her seven figures to go back to Nashville.

And a flight that leaves here tomorrow so that she can settle a deal with them in person.

Sunday clicks off her cell and turns around in my arms. She rests both of her hands against my chest as I rub my palms up and down her back.

“That’s… a lot of money,” I tell her honestly.

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