Page 16 of Everything We Give

“I will.” She nods and I’m fine with that. We can discuss the details later. For now, the evening is going well, and considering I didn’t bring James’s name up once since we sat down, I would say our date has been damn near perfect.

I must admit, though, James isn’t far from my mind.

What does he want with me? I’ve never met the guy. I did run into Carlos a couple of times, once in Mexico, and again when he and Natalya had lunch with us at the Tierneys’. That was weird.

I consider asking Aimee. She had been about to tell me in the car before Caty saw us. But she drinks her wine and gives methe lookover the rim of her glass. All thoughts of “that other guy” go up in smoke.

I’ll bring it up in the morning. Tonight’s for us.

We return home after dinner, sans kid. Strange walking into a quiet house without having to pay a babysitter or take Caty through her bedtime routine. Thank God, Aimee and I are on the same channel. She turns to me the second I flip the dead bolt, her gaze locking on mine, her hands on my belt. She smiles wickedly and yanks the leather strap from the loops of my jeans. The belt snaps the air and she drops it on the floor.

Damn, I love it when she’s hot for me.

Laughing, kissing, and stumbling, we make our way to the bedroom, leaving our clothes scattered, a trail of undergarments and shoes. Lips locked, I lift Aimee in my arms. She wraps her legs around my hips and I walk us to the bed where we tumble onto the duvet. I don’t bother yanking aside the cover. That involves too much time with my hands not on her.

I inhale the subtle scent of the perfume I gifted her last Christmas and it sends a rush to my center. I bury my face into the crook of her neck and gently scrape my teeth along the curve. She bucks beneath me, her kisses frenzied, her hands frantic. They’re making me insane. It’s as though she’s trying to erase the day, those hours before I found her at Nadia’s. I nudge aside a long, sleek leg and sink inside her, exactly where I’ve wanted to be all freaking day.

And what a day.

Is it still on her mind? With her head turned to the side and her eyes closed, harsh gasps rising from her lungs with each one of my thrusts, what is she thinking? Who is she thinking about?

She better be thinking about me, her husband.

I move faster, determined to possess every thought of hers, every sensation. I wrap an arm under her shoulders, holding her close. I thread my fingers into her hair and grip hard.

She likes it rough.

She loves it when I lose control and go crazy for her.

“Look at me.”

She does. Her blues, a swirling midnight in the dim ribbon of light from the hallway, hook into mine. Her hands grasp my hips, her fingernails dig into my flesh. I increase our pace, moving forcibly above her, in her, until all thoughts of the day leave my head and nothing exists but us.

Until nothing exists but Aimee.

Mywife.

CHAPTER 5

IAN

Aimee’s gone when I wake up. Sprawled on my stomach, I squeeze the pillow under my head and take in the empty side of the bed. I mull over yesterday’s events, picking them apart like a new photo to edit. Memories brighten over my relief of finally having Aimee in my arms when I found her at Nadia’s. But that relief dulls with the contrast of why she’d gone there in the first place. James blindsided her, stirring up memories Aimee has worked hard to overcome. At least our night together ended on the high end of the color spectrum. It was filled with vibrancy and fun.

I love having fun with Aimee. We’re good together. We’re good in bed together.

My body stirs. Groaning, I roll to my back, tempted to haul Aimee back to bed. But her comment last night saturates my drowsy, aroused state.

Do you think we married too soon?

She’s never asked that before, nor has it crossed my mind.

What would she do if she believes we did marry too soon? A sick feeling twists in my abdomen. She’d leave me; that’s what she’d do.

No, she wouldn’t.My inner voice dope-slaps the back of my head.

I rub my face and groan into my cupped palms.Damn you, James, for putting that thought in her head.

I get out of bed, yank on a pair of athletic shorts, and drag a loose tank over my head before stopping in the bathroom to relieve myself. I wash my hands, drying them by running them through my unruly hair, and brush my teeth as I inspect my face in the mirror.

---