Page 116 of The Love Playbook

He lifts me up with one arm and my legs lock around his waist, wanting more. Wanting everything. Needing to be as close to him as humanly possible, connected to him in every way.

The kiss turns fevered while I fumble with the button of his jeans, my fingers gripping the zipper when the hand cupping my breast squeezes me tightly, and I gasp.

“Are you sure?” he whispers.

Goosebumps dance over my skin, and I nod, unable to find my voice as his mouth and tongue trace new lines over my neck.

“I need to hear you say it, Lettie.”

My hands find the waistband of his jeans and I push them down, pulling back to meet his eyes like twin flames. “I’m sure,” I say, and no sooner than the words leave my mouth is he on me.

His large body presses me back onto the countertop where he makes quick work of my leggings. My hands skate over his back, his arms, every square inch of skin as he licks and tastes his way down my body. I rock against him, impatient and insistent, needing to quell this burning ache inside of me before I explode.

My hands frantically push at his boxer briefs before he helps me slide them off. With a flick of the wrist, my bra is gone, and the lace of my panties swept away on the rising tide of desire, until there’s nothing left between us but the insistent rush of heat and need.

Muscle ripples beneath my palms, fingertips sinking into hot needy flesh, and all I can think is one time with him will never be enough. I’ll want this forever?wanthimforever.

I wake with a start, squinting at the sunlight shining through the window as my mind plays catch-up. My mother. The hospital.Chris.

Snippets of last night replay in my head like the best kind of slow-motion replay: his hot breath on my skin, his lips, the calloused scrape of his hands, legs tangled with mine. Smiling, I press my face into my pillow, stifling a girlish squeal when a heavy arm wraps around my waist.

Turning into him, I prop myself up on my elbow and take in his sleepy blue eyes, the same shade of the sky outside my window. He’s still shirtless, his scruff thicker than yesterday, scratching over the tips of my fingers when I trail them over his jaw. It’s almost comical how big he looks sprawled out in the tiny twin bed of my old bedroom.

“Hi,” I say, intently watching him and searching for any signs he regrets last night.

“Hi.” With a grin, he reaches up and taps my temple. “Stop overthinking it.”

I chuckle and drop my face into the crook of his neck, embarrassed he can read me so well.

Breathing him in, I decide I like the way he smells even better in the morning?like cedar and citrus and sunshine andme.

I press a kiss to his neck, and when I tip my head toward him, his mouth meets mine.

His kiss is lazy, slow and languid. It’s a morning-after kiss, the kind that tells me he expects many more of these mornings to come, and after last night, that’s definitely something I can get on board with.

His large hand sinks beneath the sheets, sliding down the outside of my thigh to the back of my knee where he hooks my leg around his waist. A soft moan flutters in my chest with anticipation while my nerve endings spark to life. The only sound in the room is the heavy exhalations of our breaths.

“Charlotte, are you still here?” The raspy sound of my mother’s voice slices through the silence, and my stomach sinks.

Shit.

Chris pulls back with a chuckle, and I sigh. “Yup. Be right there,” I say before I press my forehead to his chest, needing a second before reality comes crashing in. “Sorry,” I say with a grimace.

“Don’t be sorry. This won’t be the first time we’re interrupted.” He smooths the hair from my forehead, his touch soothing as he grins. “Years from now, it’ll be our kids getting us out of bed.”

My brows lift, taken aback by the trajectory of his thoughts.

“Damn it.” Chris moans and scrubs a hand over his face. “I fucked up and mentioned kids too soon, and now I scared you, didn’t I?”

“Um . . .” I blink, unsure of what to think.

“Blame it on my lack of morning coffee.” His cheeks pinken, and I think Chris blushing might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. “Just do me a favor and strike that from your memory. Unless you liked it. If you liked it, I’ll double down on the promise behind that statement.”

A laugh sputters from my lips. “You didn’t scare me,” I say, realizing it’s true.

Chris comes from a big family with lots of siblings and an even bigger extended family from what I’ve been told. It doesn’t surprise me that he wants a family someday. He’s made it very clear what his priorities are now, and in the future, and I can’t say I hate it. In fact, having grown up in an unstable home, I kind of love how family oriented he is. Besides, wasn’t I thinking just last night what an amazing father he’d make?

“No?” Chris smiles like he won the lottery, and I can’t help but smile back before I remember I have to go check on my mother.

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