Page 68 of Won't Let Go
A few minutes later, as we’re blowing our noses, Josh and Big enter through the front door to find us at the table.
Bink looks at me and we share a smile. Yes, her man is a total tattletale who is uncomfortable with feminine emotions.
“You didn’t need to get him,” I address Big.
The behemoth rolls his eyes and stares at his old lady.
Waving off his concern, she snorts. “I’m fine.”
“You were crying,” Big growls, running fingers through his long hair.
“We’re allowed to cry,” she volleys right back, with an edge of teasing in her voice.
Big’s grunt says he doesn’t like this. Josh, knowing how to handle emotions like a pro, smirks with his arms tucked across his chest as he leans against the nearest wall.
I take this as my cue to wrap it up here and leave them to their own devices. By the wrinkle between Big’s brow and his low growls, they’re gonna end up in the bedroom soon.
Getting up, I give Bink a quick hug and promise to talk again soon. I meet my husband by the front door, and just as we step onto the porch, Bink’s screech has us both laughing as we stroll, hand in hand, down the steps.
“I take it that went well?” he asks.
“It did. So did my talk with Hunter.”
“You seem happier, babe.”
We share a smile. “I am.”
Josh stops us in the middle of the road. Turning me to face him, he tips my chin up and brushes that delicious mouth across mine. My stomach swoops like a rollercoaster as he presses us together. His thickness against my belly has me gasping.
“You’re hard.”
On a low growl, Josh grips my ass. “You’re my wife. Of course, I am.” He nips my bottom lip, and I melt. Hands on his shoulders, tits pressed to his stomach, I stare at the man who completes me. His eyes gleam in the sunlight with such adoration and lust. The smirk he flashes my way has my insides going molten.
I never knew life could feel like this.
“I love you, Josh.”
He slaps my ass before cupping both cheeks and giving them a solid squeeze. “And I love you far more, babe. Now, I need to get back to our room before I strip you naked in the street.”
“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” I tease.
“Fuck. Stop bein’ so damn sexy.”
“But what about your dick? Isn’t it sore?”
“We’ll improvise… Are you sore?”
“Not really.”
“Good. ‘Cause I’m spending the rest of my day between your legs.”
“Josh.” I play slap his chest. “We can’t do that.”
He waggles his brows, and a devilish grin turns him from handsome to sexy in a flash. “Oh. Yeah. We can. Watch me.”
To fill some Neanderthal quota, my husband literally scoops me off the ground and throws me over his shoulder. I squeal in outrage as he rushes us to the clubhouse and spanks my ass anytime he wants, like he likes the feel. Which, of course, he does. But he shouldn’t be carrying me.
Oh. And all the blood rushing to my head. I don’t like it.
