Page 109 of Scandalous Lover

I push myself up to standing and turn in a circle, admiring how much work we’ve gotten done. “The windowsills look great.”

Naomi looks apologetic and nervous and sad all at once, but she offers me a smile. “Thanks.”

“You got some paint on your face, though.”

Her mouth drops open, and she spins, searching the walls for a mirror that isn’t there. “Where?”

With a grin, I close the distance between us, dragging my finger lightly over the brush that’s still in her hand before touching her nose. “Right there.”

She laughs and squeals, trying to get away but I catch her and pull her to me, making sure her brush hand doesn't end up between us.

When I kiss her, she closes her eyes and presses into me, lifting up on her toes to deepen our connection.

And to push her nose into mine.

She breaks away and cackles with glee. “Now you have some paint on your face, Sam.”

And the thought that hits my brain, sent there by my exploding heart…

This is the happiest moment of my life.

ChapterThirty-Eight

Naomi

We get take-out from a self-pronounced “chicken shack” and eat it on the porch, followed by the first episode of Firefly, watched on his tiny TV from an actual DVD.

“So great, right?” he asks with complete sincerity once the credits roll.

“Yeah. So great.”

Sam narrows his eyes at me. “Are you just saying that?”

“No. It was really fun.”

“It seemed like you were making fun of it, and that kind of thing isn’t allowed in this house.”

I grin at him. “I wasn’t making fun of the show, I was making fun of your DVD collection. What are you going to do when season two comes out? Buy it on DVD also?”

“There was no season two. It got canceled after season one.”

“That cinematic masterpiece? What for?”

He shakes his head solemnly. “No one knows.”

When he leads me out to the newly finished bedroom, we christen the bed with orgasm after orgasm—most of them mine.

“I feel like a teenager when I’m around you, princess. It’s like I can’t get enough.”

I laugh up at him from where I lay naked on the white sheets. “Your dick never gets, you know, sore?”

His forehead creases as he cocks his head. “Are you sore?”

“A little.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not a bad thing. I kind of like it. I can feel you even when you’re not inside me.”

---