Page 79 of Manhattan Heart

“I love you.” I tell him.

“I know.” and then the monster ruins our whole romantic bubble by nipping his teeth to the side of my neck and announcing. “I love my thirty-year old sugar baby wife too.”

He’s too busy laughing his head off to care that I punch the top of his arm.

He soon has me cradled tight with his mouth against my ear.

“Light of my fucking world, India. Always. Forever.”

Tears prick the back of my eyes. Seriously, how happy does one woman deserve to be? I don’t care about the answer. I’m blissful.

I grasp his hair gently, meeting his gaze and smiling eyes.

“Heart of my heart. Forever. Always.”

We don’t need words after that, mainly because my tipsy ass passes out because Gray is cradling me and I fucking love being cradled in his arms.

We walk into the house, arms around each other’s waists some thirty or so minutes later and as he predicted, the boys fly along the passageway to get at us.

My family.

We don’t have to be traditional to have love.

We love our life and we treasure each other.

It’s enough. It’s always been more than enough.

Excitement and contentment races up my arms after Gray closes the door when he sees the dog-sitter to her car.

His eyes meet mine, they’re devilish and seductive.

I know just what’s on his mind.

He whistles and the dogs come to a paused halt. “Up to bed,” he issues to them and off they go with their butts in the air. For once they don’t disobey him.

I kick off my shoes while I watch Gray slip off the jacket, tossing it over the newel post and then he unbuttons his shirt like a goddamn underwear model, my blood starts to boil.

He leaves it hanging open like a tempting manslut.

I love him. Want him, endlessly.

“You going to fuck me now, sugar D?”

“You know I am,” he catches me around the waist and holds me tight by the nape. Pleasure makes my eyes roll into my skull. And then…. Oh, my gorgeous Grayson, he whispers the sexiest words my New York born heart has ever heard before. Really, my panties are like a river. “But first, I’ll feed you a bowl of cereal.”

A giggle lasts as long as it takes for him to carry me to the kitchen.

He gets me. And I get him.

He loves to take care of everything I need. That’s Gray’s need.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.” He kisses me, plonking my ass on a stool to see I’m fed before anything else.

The mere stroke of his fingertips on the back of my neck when he lays out a bowl in front of me makes me breathless.

Three bites of Choco flakes and I’m done, because watching Gray flaunt his tight ass in the slate pants around the kitchen is enough to have my heart going into seizure.

I want all over my man and I want it now.

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