Page 130 of Seven Year Itch
A loud thwack sounds as Dakota hammers me in the stomach with an adorable look of righteousness.
I hold my hands up in surrender. “Lambchop! Lambchop! No masks.”
She laughs and shakes her head as Milkshake bellows for the tenth time from the door, sick of our shit. I turn back to Dakota, and her breath is heavy, and her eyes are full of arousal from the poking and prodding I’ve been doing to her. My woman likes it when I tie her up.
“Listen to me, baby.” I grip the straps up around her shoulders and yank her to me. “I promise you that no woman has ever worn this carrier. Only you.”
Her nose wrinkles, but she gets a touched look on her face as she tips her chin up and offers me her lips.
I chuckle through my nose as my lips find hers, catching her in a deep, drugging kiss. Finally, I pull away and slap her on the ass to head toward the door.
“What do I do?” she asks, holding her hands out awkwardly.
“Just stand there, and Fuzz will jump up into your—”
She squeals loudly as my cat does exactly what I promised she’d do. I help get her legs situated in the holders and open the door for us to step onto my front porch. Dakota walks down the steps, her hands awkwardly bowing out from her body while I lean on the railing, taking in the view of her in front of the mountain vista.
She turns around and pushes her hair out of her face. “How do I look?”
“You look damn fine on my peak.” I smile and cross my arms over my chest, knowing this is a sight I could get used to. I waggle my brows at her. “My two favorite pussies.”
She rolls her eyes. “I hate you sometimes.”
“That’s just fine because I love you.”
Her cheeks flush. “I love you too.”
I smile and join her as we do our very first cat walk as a couple who has a hell of a lot more love for each other than hate.
Epilogue
Calder Gets His Domestic On
Dakota
A Few Months Later
“Well, hey there,” I say as I swing open the front door of my house to find my man standing there all hot and tattooed and bearded and shooting me one of those smiles that makes my knees weak.
His smirk sends a surge of desire through me as he moves in, pulling me into his arms for a deep, all-consuming kiss. We’ve been doing this whole boyfriend–girlfriend dance for a few months now, and it’s going surprisingly well for a couple of people who used to hate each other with the fire of a thousand suns.
He stays at my place regularly. I stay at his place regularly. I have clothes at his place. He has clothes at mine. I even set up a litter box in my house so he can bring Milkshake over when he wants to. That’s love, baby!
But there’s been something weighing on my mind that I wanted to present to him today before we head over to Denver to finally see all his furniture pieces displayed in the boutique. Something that I know will make this man who changed my outlook on life very, very happy.
And that’s what Calder has done. He’s prevented me from becoming a bitter divorcée by showing me what real love looks like. I feel safe with him and seen. There’s a beauty to fighting and bickering easily with the person you love. No one has a chance to harbor secrets or resentments. Everything is always on the table so you can work through it, one infuriating argument at a time.
That passion translates very well to the bedroom too. We fight hard, but we make love harder. The confidence I feel in myself by having a man who hears me and respects me and loves me the way I always wanted to be loved makes the sex so much more meaningful. There is no finish line in sight because Calder Fletcher is my end game.
“I have something I need to show you before we leave for Denver,” I murmur as Calder’s lips find my neck and he trails soft kisses along my collarbone.
“Please tell me it’s your bedroom,” Calder growls against my skin. “We have about twenty minutes before we need to leave, and I know I can make good use of that time.”
I close my eyes, and my insides do flips. My bedroom with this man does sound good. Extremely good. But no. I have a plan, and I will not let this sexy man derail me. Using all my strength, I push Cal-der away, creating some space between us so I can hear myself think.
He’s breathless, and the dark look of hunger in his eyes is making my stomach continue with the flips.
“I made a list,” I state and turn on my heel to walk into my house where my laptop is on my coffee table.
