Page 3 of Manhattan Heart

I watch his eyes widen then narrow into horny little smoke filled slits.

My sugar D has sexual triggers that will push him from 0 to a million in arousal if I say the right words.

Knowing I might be discussing our very private and wild sex life is one of them, and it makes his Adam’s apple jump.

“Did you now?” I bob my blonde head very enthusiastically and nestle in closer to his chest, bumping my belly against his hard groin. “Did you tell her how I put you on your knees and fed you my cock right to the back of this sweet throat, because that’s how much I missed you all day?”

Oh damn. I forget sometimes he knows how to play my game just as good…if not better.

“Grayson…” I whine. Hotter than ever now.

He chuckles, kissing me again. With tongue this time and by the time we buckle into the car, I’m really not lying about my throbbing places.

He places a hand high on my thigh, my fingers cover his and we drive home while I tell him all what really happened in my therapy.

Ididtell her about our sex last night, by the way. Not the delicious details… but she knows my good days and my bad. She knows all about Gray, has met him several times and she knows he’s my bright spot in what is sometimes a frantic mind.

“Have you had a good day?” I ask when we reach home.

He takes my hand automatically once he’s locked the car and we enter the death trap, aka the elevator. We haven’t plummeted to our deaths yet, but I still cross my fingers and hope for the best standing in the steel coffin.

“I’m looking at my beautiful wife, how can it be anything other than a great day,” he winks, and I nudge my elbow into his ribs only to have him draw me in with an arm wrapped around me.

“You have a slick tongue, Grayson.”

“You’ll see how slick very soon, baby-girl.”

My body jolts with love and lust.

Okay, tons more lust because even after three years of marriage, there’s something about Grayson that just does it for me. That split second punch of desire when I see him never vanishes, even if I’m in a snit. Most often, I have dreams of pouncing on him wherever we are just to get my daily fix of the man.

He wooed me with cereal.

But it’s me who keeps him by banging his brains out most every day.

Who says the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach? Not my man. And not with my cooking.

I know how to keep Gray happy and it has nothing to do with food. Mainly because I don’t enjoy cooking and he’d probably get a stale bagel from me for his dinner.

“Promise?” I whisper as the doors ping open.

We love the apartment I moved into not long after meeting Gray. It’s one of those exclusive need a billion in the bank to even walk through the door kind of places. In a great neighborhood with fantastic security, but we are waiting to close on the house we finally found and fell in love with, just on the outskirts of the city.

We will have the best of both worlds. Privacy and city life within close distance. I’m so excited to move and start a brand-new chapter of our life.

But we have such amazing memories of this apartment.

We fell in love right here. With my man cautiously winning my broken heart.

We cemented that love in every single room.

I’ve posted so many pictures of the apartment on my Instagram, it now looks like one of those fancy home accounts. It’s no surprise when I include my Gray in those photos, sometimes just lounging on the couch or cooking in the kitchen, those are the pics that get the most traffic to my page.

My handsome sugar D bringing all the sluts to the yard.

“I’ll give you all the promises you want, India. As long as you’re naked and crying underneath me.”

God. This man.

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