Page 78 of Call It Home

“I told you if you didn’t lock your door, people would just walk in.”

He paused to kiss me. “You’re not just people.”

“Yeah? Then what am I?”

“You’remypeople.” My heart fluttered. So far, we hadn’t shared much about our feelings for each other, but that was pretty close to him calling me his. I didn’t mind the possessive tone at all.

His eyes swept over the kitchen behind me, and his expression changed to one of near horror. My eyes followed his. In my excitement to greet him, I hadn’t paid any attention to the state of the kitchen. Tomato sauce dripped down the sides of the jars and onto the counter. Empty cartons of various cheeses were strewn about, and greasy, messy bowls and pans were piled in the sink.

“Oopsies.”

Amused green eyes stared back into mine as I looked up at him. “Have you been cooking?”

I nodded.

“Should I have 911 on standby? Cooking isn’t really your thing, if I recall.”

I smacked him on the chest.

“I’ll clean it up while you get a shower. I didn’t have enough time to do it before you got home.”

“What are we having?”

“Lasagna.”

A wicked gleam grew in his eyes. “How about you help me clean up in the shower while it cooks, then I’ll help you clean the kitchen?”

“That sounds like an offer I don’t want to refuse.”

I pulled him all the way into the house, kicking the door shut with my foot just before he scooped me up and threw me over his shoulder.

With a laugh, I squirmed in his grip and playfully smacked his back. “Hey, put me down!” I exclaimed.

Mac chuckled and set me back down on my feet, but not before stealing a quick kiss. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight,” he teased.

I grinned, feeling my cheeks flush with excitement. This was the first time we’d really acted like a couple who lived together, and I was loving every second of it.

Once in the bathroom, I turned on the hot water, and we both stripped and stepped into the shower together.

He leaned down to kiss me, his hand running up my back. My hands were busy, too. They explored the definition of his chest and abs, but before they could go any lower, he pulled back and spun me around. His finger dipped between my legs.

“Fuck, you’re already wet for me.”

“Always,” I moaned.

“Hands on the wall.”

No sooner had I done so than I felt the head of his cock nudge my entrance, then push fully inside.

“Fuck,” he groaned when he bottomed out. “It’s always so damn amazing.” He pulled out and drove back in, over and over again. I pushed back to meet him, picking up speed as he powered into me while the water sluiced around us.

The pressure built in my core, and then suddenly, it was there—the white, fiery explosion that had only ever happened with him. My legs trembled, and his arms wrapped tighter around my waist until he shoved his face into my back and followed me over with a harsh groan.

Words came bubbling to the surface. “Mac, I l—”

He pulled out and spun me around, his lips finding mine once again, this time softer and gentler, then with growing urgency until I was breathless and mindless from another orgasm.

It wasn’t until after he’d quietly toweled us off and got dressed that I realized he’d never let me say the words.

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