Page 84 of Curveball
She takes a swallow from her tea, her eyes focused on me, as if she’s patiently waiting for me to understand, and when I do, something shifts in my chest and I cannot look away. She may be agreeing to our marriage to keep from legal entanglements with her ex’s family, but me, my motives are pure selfishness. I want Palmer Sloan in my life, and in my house. More, I want her in my arms and in my bed every goddamn night.
“Glad that’s settled.” She laughs softly as I pull her down and she sinks onto my lap. I tug her closer and drop my lips to hers, then groan into her neck and murmur, “Still not close enough, Palmer Girl.”
My jacket is laid out on the back seat of my SUV, and I loosened my tie and the throat of my shirt somewhere over Ohio. She tugs my shirttails from my waistband, and gets to work freeing the rest of my buttons from their holes. When she shifts so she’s straddling me, her slim skirt bunches high on her thighs and my hands immediately slide under the fabric to cup her ass. I’ll never tire of my palms on her skin.
“Tell me now if you want me to leave. If you just want to go to sleep.”
I’m trying to be a gentleman. Doing a mostly fine job of it, too. But she’s looking at me like I’ve lost my damn mind.
“Are you kidding? Hell, yes, I want to go to sleep. I can’t even count how long this day has been.” She scrambles off my lap and slides her skirt back down her thighs. “But we still have another kid-free day. I want kid-free sex, so you’re gonna have to suck it up.”
“Babe, hold on. I get you, believe me, but we can wait till we’re not so sleepy, if that’s better. Maybe, morning sex?”
I mean, I’m not so tired I can’t get it up, but she nods, as if agreeing. I chalk it up to the first of however manynot tonight, I’m too tiredexcuses I’ll get in the future.
“Morning sex is good. I like morning sex. You know what else is good?” She doesn’t wait for my answer. “Sleepy sex.”
Next thing I know, my wrist is in her hand and I’m trailing behind her down the hall.
Second door on the right.
Sleepy sex is. . .dope. Why haven’t I ever experienced that before? Slow building desire, languid passion, quiet murmurs and pulses of seductive movement. Intimate and caring kisses. Orgasms you never want to end. Then, when they do, it’s findingeach other in the dark and holding on while you share that one final moment of serenity before sleep claims you.
I wake to residual contentment, the smell of coffee, and the sound of Palmer moving around in her bathroom. She’s dressed in jeans and a casual blouse, her hair is braided over one shoulder, and she’s poking at her eye with a mascara wand.
I draw her attention when I shuffle to sit against the pillows.
“Hey, you’re awake,” she chirps, like she got a whole lot more sleep than I did. I never pegged her for a morning person.
“You planning to do both eyes, this time?” I tease in a hoarse morning voice.
She slides a few items off the counter and into a vanity drawer, then comes to stand beside me. I reach out to put my hand on her hip, and she sits on the edge of the bed.
“Coffee’s here, right beside you,” she says. I look behind me on the nightstand and, yes, it absolutely is. I take a sip, deep sigh, replace the mug, and clear my throat.
“Thanks, babe.”
She leans down and brushes her lips to mine. Her breath is minty. Mine probably tastes like coffee and ass.
“You’re welcome,” she says as she gets to her feet, and I throw the covers off, because today is a big day. I want to brush my teeth and kiss her properly.
She stops me with a hand on my shoulder before my legs make it over the side of the bed.
“Why don’t you go back to sleep? You don’t need to pick me up for a few hours, unless you have plans. And besides, I like thinking of you here.”
She likes thinking of me here. In her bed.Heh. Who am I to deny the woman?
“Yes, wife,” I tease again. And smack her on her ass as I lower myself back under the covers. “I’ll see you at noon.”
I’m waiting in the SUV when she walks out of school at ten after twelve. She’s changed her clothes from the teacher mode fit she wore out of her house this morning to a long flowy skirt and a top of the same fabric, with a stretchy neckline and elastic around her arms that makes the short sleeves poufy. It’s white. And gauzy. And sexy as fuck.
“What do you think?” she asks as she approaches.
She twirls as she meets me, and I catch her up and dip her into a kiss.
“You’re beautiful. I love it.”
She tugs at the skirt, pulling it wide and giving it an assessing stare.
