Page 126 of Finding Us

“Let’s get the rest of the bags from the trunk and then we’ll take a break.”

He smiles. “I think we should take a break right now. I’m kind of turned on at the moment and I don’t think I should go back out there in my current state, you know, with the neighbors watching and all.”

I smile back. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He pushes his hips into me. “I think you do.”

“How could you possibly get turned on while moving?”

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this but. . .” He lifts off me little and slips his hand under my tank top. His lips touch my neck, kissing just under my ear, and he says, “There was this really hot girl out front just now. Round, little ass. Tan, perfect legs. And the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Still can’t. And now I can’t help myself. I have to touch her.” His hand moves down to my shorts, unbuttoning them and tugging the zipper down.

I was not at all in the mood for sex, all hot and sweaty and tired from moving. But now he’s got me fired up and ready to go, as he always seems to do.

“And what would your wife think of you looking at this girl? And touching her?”

“I think she’d tell me to go for it. Because if I’m not mistaken, I think she was checking out the guy outside moving boxes. In fact I think when he took his shirt off, she was kind of staring. It was shameful, really. I mean, sheismarried.”

He’s right. I was totally watching him as he moved boxes; his muscles flexing, beads of sweat on his tan skin. And then he took his shirt off and I was staring. I know. It’s crazy. I see him every day, with and without a shirt, and yet I was still staring at him.

“She really shouldn’t stare.” I bring his face to mine and kiss him, gently at first, then forcefully as I feel him press between my legs, his bare chest against my skin, which is now exposed since he managed to get my tank top off during this flirtatious interlude.

The blinds on the window flutter in the breeze and I look and see the back door open, the screen door allowing anyone walking by to get a glimpse of us on the couch, or more if they stopped and looked.

“Not here,” I whisper. “Let’s go to the bedroom.” I latch my arms around his neck.

“What about your husband?” He sits up and I hang on to him, wrapping my legs around his waist. “And my wife?”

“I don’t think they’ll mind.” I look him in the eye as he carries me to the bedroom. “It’s not every day you meet someone you have this kind of chemistry with. That raw, uncontrolled passion that just takes over. You have to give in to something like that, you know?”

His eyes don’t leave mine as he lays me on the bed, stripping my clothes off and then his own. His skin glistens with sweat, his hair wet from it. We’re both hot from the late August heat and now we’re even hotter from our short round of foreplay on the couch.

As if on cue, we both go at it like we really are two strangers who just met in the driveway and were instantly attracted to each other in such an intense way that we just had to give in to our desires.

Then we lie there, sweating even more than before, catching our breath. Moments later, we look at each other and say at the same time, “Shower?”

I laugh as he gets up from the bed and goes in the bathroom, starting the water. I yank the elastic from my hair and shake it out a little as I walk in there.

Garret’s watching me. “After you.” He holds the shower door open, guiding me in there with his body. As the water cascades over us, he turns me around and takes my face in his hands and kisses me.

And a few minutes later, we have officially christened the shower. I was thinking we would do this later tonight or maybe tomorrow, but who am I kidding? Garret and I are still crazy about each other. Marriage hasn’t changed us a bit. In fact, we might even do it more now than before. I haven’t really kept track, but it seems like we do. And I like that about us. I like that we still can’t take our hands off each other. That I still think about him when he’s not around. That I still get that little fluttery feeling inside whenever he walks in a room. I thought all that would change when we moved in together last May, and when it didn’t, I thought it would change when we got married last month. But so far, it hasn’t.

“What are you thinking about?” Garret asks. We’re both lying on the bed, each wrapped in a towel, still wet from the shower.

“You.” I stare up at the ceiling.

“Whataboutme?” He reaches over and slips his hand around mine.

“About how you still get to me. How I still can’t resist you.”

“Still?” He laughs. “What does that mean? Did you think you’d be sick of me by now?”

“No. But I see you every day so you’d think by now I’d get used to your extreme hotness and somehow be immune to the effect it has on me.”

“That almost sounded like a compliment, even though you expressed some annoyance with me toward the end there.”

I flip on my side, my fingers trailing over his muscular chest. “My annoyance is not with you. It’s with me, and my inability to control myself around you. This could be a real problem now that I need to focus on school again. I have a difficult class load this year.”

He turns to face me. “I think you can make time for both this,” he kisses me, “and your class work.”

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