Page 111 of A Pizza My Heart

It’s perfect.

Everything I didn’t know I was missing.

Everything I didn’t know I want. Everything Ineed.

“I love you,” he says against me.

I don’t say anything.

I don’t have to.

Because I fall apart around him at his words.

With a few more rough thrusts, Foster sputters out more cuss words than I’ve ever heard him use in one sentence and slows his movements beneath me.

I collapse against him instantly, my body utterly drained.

He loosens his grip on my hair, pressing kiss after kiss over my jawline until he trails his lips back to my ear.

“I’ll take that cookie now.”

Slice Eighteen

Foster

“Your dog shit in my living room.”

Well, that was the last thing I thought I’d hear this morning…

I roll over and peel my eyes open, blinking against the bright daylight filtering into the bedroom.

Wren’s kneeling on the bed next to me, looking rather disgruntled. Her hair is wet, her natural curls a mess around her head. There’s a distinctI just got fuckedlook about her that makes me want to beat on my chest like some idiotic caveman because I’m the reason it’s there.

Despite her glower, she’s stunning.

“Quit smiling!” She grabs the nearest pillow and smashes it against me. “Your freakin’ dog crapped all over my living room and I freakin’ stepped in it and then had to clean itandme and now I’m all freakin’ angry!”

“Freakin’ ew,” I mock, scrunching my nose. “That’s disgusting.”

“Tell me about it!” she explodes, whacking me with the pillow again.

“Stop hitting me. It’s too early to be beaten.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I should have waited until after your coffee to beat you because your freakin’ dog shit. In. My. House!”

She screams the last part and I can’t help but laugh.

Another wallop with the pillow, this one with a little extra force behind it.

“Okay, okay.” I snatch the weapon from her and chuck it across the room then pull myself into a seated position. “I’m sorry he shit, okay? What time is it?”

She glances at the old-school clock on her bedside table—something we talked about last night because who the hell still owns one of those things?

“After eight.”

“Ah, that makes sense.”

“The time of day makes sense for your dog—”

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