“I can get on board with that.”
I seal my lips over hers as I slowly slide in and out of her, but it’s not enough. I need more. “Hold on, baby.” I grip her ass and thrust hard and fast, losing myself in her.
“So close,” she whispers.
Thank God. I’ve been holding off my orgasm since the very first second I slid inside her. “Touch yourself.” She doesn’t hesitate to slide her hand between our heated bodies. I thrust hard, and within seconds, she’s biting my shoulder as her orgasm ripples through her. I feel it all. Every pulse, every drop against my skin. “Whit,” I grit out as I spill myself inside of her.
Her lips graze my ear. “I feel you,” she breathes.
I crush my arms around her and hold her as tight as I can. My cock is still painfully hard inside her. This night will go at the top of the list for the memories we’ve made out here.
“Babe,” she says hesitantly. “The little glow-in-the-dark thing is bobbing up and down,” she says, looking over my shoulder.
I turn just in time to see it disappear beneath the water. The line starts to flow from the pole. “Shit!” I carefully set her on her feet and rush to the pole, grabbing it and starting to reel. “Come here, babe. You can help,” I call. She chuckles. “Whitney.”
“Okay.” She’s still laughing when she steps under my arm and leans back against my chest.
“Hands here.” I place them on the reel, mine over top of hers as we reel in our catch. When we get it to shore, I bend down and grab the line. “Bluegill,” I say, showing it to her.
“Get it away from me.” She laughs.
“Fine.” I release him back into the water and drop the pole to the ground. “What were you laughing at?”
“You, us. I wish you could have seen you reeling that thing in with your—” She points down to my cock. “—flapping in the wind.”
I smile with her. “That’s country living, baby.”
“I love me some country living,” she says, placing her hand over her heart and trying to sound like she has a southern accent.
“Come here, you.” I grab her hand and gently tug her to me. Once she’s in my arms, I kiss her. “I love you, Whitney.”
“I love you, too.”
“Thanks for letting us use your front porch as the backdrop,” Kinley says.
It’s still hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that this is my front porch. Aaron and I moved into his house—well, our house—two weeks ago. It’s three weeks before Christmas and Kinley wants family pictures done. Apparently, she convinced her parents and Aaron to get in on it too. “I can’t believe you were able to talk Aaron into this.”
“Actually, he didn’t even put up a fight.”
I’m surprised, but then again, I shouldn’t be. That’s who he is. He’s the guy who will give you the shirt off his back. The one who is there for you no matter what the need. He’s the man who stole my heart.
“Are those the boots you got last week?”
“Yes! I love them.” Kinley and I have gotten closer. She went with me last week to buy things for the house. Aaron was busy with a show and said he didn’t care what I picked out. If I liked it, he would like it. So I called Kinley and we made a day of it. By the time we were done, the entire back of the Explorer was full. We needed everything. Dishes, towels . . . the list went on and on.
“They look cute with that sweater.”
“I thought so too.” I decided to dress up a little today. I knew they would all be looking their best for the pictures, and I didn’t want to be the odd girl out. Besides, it gave me a chance to wear my new boots.
“Okay, I think that’s good,” Kinley says as she places the last poinsettia on the front steps.
“Perfect. It’s going to look great on your Christmas card.”
She laughs. “Right? Okay, I need to go get ready. We’ll be back in an hour or so, that work?”
“Sounds good to me. I have my camera charged and ready. I’ve got a big pot of chili cooking too. I thought we might need it after shooting out in the cold.”
She hugs me good-bye and I rush into the house. It’s in the high forties today, so not freezing, but when you are out in it for a while, it gets to you. Still nothing on the windy Chicago winters, though.
“Babe!” Aaron calls out.
“Yeah?”
“Have you seen my belt?”
“Check in the top drawer of the closet.”
“Found it!” he yells back.
I head into the kitchen and can’t help but smile. I love this kitchen. I stir the chili in the slow cooker and make sure it’s on low. I cooked it all day yesterday. It’s always better the second day.
“That smells amazing,” Aaron says, resting his hands on my hips and kissing my neck.
“So do you,” I say, turning in his arms. “They’ll be here in less than an hour.”
“That’s enough time,” he says, his lips trailing kisses up my neck.
“Not gonna happen, buddy. No way are we getting busted.”
“Whit, this is our house. We can do what we want.”
“I understand that, but no. Once the pictures are done and everyone has had lunch, you can have your wicked way with me. Until then, no.”
“Fine,” he concedes. “Please tell me we are having peanut butter sandwiches with that?”
“Eww! What?”
“Peanut butter sandwiches with chili. They go hand in hand.”
“Really? It sounds . . . nasty.”
“It’s not.” He reaches into the pantry and grabs a huge jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread.
“Don’t make them yet. They’ll get stale. We’ll have time to make them once we take the pictures. Besides, you don’t know how many to make.”
“Uh, we all eat it this way.” I crinkle up my nose. “You’re cute. Just try it, I promise you will never go back.”
“We’ll see.”
He kisses me again, and this time, I get lost in the feel of his lips pressed to mine. “I love you, Whit.”
“Love you too.”
“Knock knock,” Kinley says, not bothering to do so. “The gang has arrived.”