Page 94 of The Seven Month Itch
“Oh, okay.” Justice goes on to talk about the girls. She’s clueless about the shitstorm that is our best friends’ relationship, and that’s fine by me. My wife is only one month postpartum. I don’t want her to stress out.
I’ll talk to Miles offline. We haven’t spoken much these last few weeks, for obvious reasons, but the topic of marriage came up when we did.
“How did you know Justice was your person?” I remember him asking me. My response was something like your soul finding its counterpart.
Yes, it’s fromWedding Crashers, a movie in which men up their body count at random weddings, but it doesn’t make it any less true. Something in my spirit leapt the moment I laid eyes on Justice sixteen years ago. I never had an instant connection to someone that went beyond physical attraction. It’s like we found our way back to each other.
The more time we spent together, the more it confirmed what I knew: Justice is my person. I would marry this woman every two years if she’d let me, and I hope Miles and Em find a love that fills them, whether they end up together or not.
Justice’s cheeks flush. Shit, I’m staring.
She gives me a coy smile. “What?”
My eyes reflect nothing but adoration for the woman who holds my heart. I reach to pull her to my chest and drop my head to capture her mouth. “I love you so much,” I say before I take it again for another kiss.
A moan vibrates from her body. She wraps her arms around my neck. My soul isn’t the only thing that recognizes somethingin her. The pressure of her against me has my dick hard in my jeans.
Have to wait a couple more weeks for her to heal. Sorry, buddy.
I’m about to give her space when she grinds against my erection.Jesus.
“Princess,” I say against her lips.
Am I horny? Hell yes. Does my right hand hurt? Of course. But the doctor says we have to wait.
“Baby,” I say in a warning. If she keeps this up, I’ll blow right here on this couch. “Hon—”
She deepens our kiss that turns frantic. My hand goes to her ass and hers grips my thigh. I wrap a hand around her hair to pull her closer.
I read about lower libidos after childbirth. It looks like Justice is in the other category.
Fuck.
She sits up and covers her breasts over her shirt, her eyes as wide as saucers. “Uh-oh.” Her voice is a whisper.
We look down to see two wet circles. My baby is turned on. “Hey, don’t,” I say when she lowers her head. “Look at me, Justice.”
Her eyes rise to meet mine.
“You are beautiful. This”—I rub my thumbs across the wet spots, arousing her—“is beautiful.” I shower kisses on her chin and lips. “You’ve never been more gorgeous to me. I also think you found a loophole to the no sex for six weeks rule.”
She chuckles. “You’re okay with dry humping?”
I pull her back to stare into her eyes. “Baby, I’m more than okay with anything you give me.”
If I have to bust a nut in my boxer briefs until we get the green light and she’s comfortable with sex, so be it.
Her eyes drop to my mouth and linger before they rise to mine again. She bites her bottom lip in the adorable way she does when a kinky thought crosses her mind. “I need to pump first, but I’m down.”
“We’ll leave you to it. Go handle your business.” We turn in horror to Miles, who stares at us with a grin.
Emma drops her head to hide her smile and walks toward the kitchen. “Your mama is a freak,” she says in a voice that mocks a whisper to our daughter. “I taught her well.”
I look to Justice. “Mrs. Reyes?”
Her eyes glow with desire. “My pump is upstairs in our bathroom.”
I nod. “That’s good.”
