He pushes himself up, and I offer him my cup. “I know you love me because you share your coffee.”
Smiling, I kiss his cheek. “I do.”
“I know. Thank you for being here with me. I know I’m not always pleasant to be around.”
I run my hand over his hair, smoothing down the duck tail that’s popped up. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”
This is a good morning.
“
Kind of feel like I do. Some days I’m on autopilot. I walk around here like a zombie, and it’s not fair to you.”
“Hey, you feel how you feel. Don’t feel bad for that. If you step out of line, you know I have no problem speaking up.”
“Ain’t that the truth?”
I nudge him with my elbow. It’s a glimpse at the man I originally fell in love with. Encouraged, I snuggle up beside him and rest my head on his shoulder. Closing my eyes, I soak up the normalcy we’ve been sorely lacking.
“Anyone else up yet?”
“Carter.”
“Of course he is,” he says dryly. I note the friction between them, but do my best to stay purposely blind to it.
“Dude definitely seems like a morning person. Me, I’m fumbling in there trying to get caffeine down my gullet so I can people.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever really seen you be mean to someone.”
“And you don’t want to. When I finally get upset, it’s ugly.” I’m not proud of my mean streak, but I know myself, and my flaws.
“I’ve been on the receiving end of your stubbornness, so I think I can imagine.”
“You’re a funny guy today, huh?”
He smirks. “I like to think I am every day.”
“You’re something all right.”
“What do you want to do today, sassy? Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve catered to me.”
I glance down and shrug. “I mean I’d kill for ice cream, but we know that’s not going to happen.”
“Ha, it might if you ask nicely enough. We’re getting low on supplies. I’m sure they’re thinking of re-upping on groceries soon.”
“Is it horrible that the thought of them gone is exciting?”
“Hell no. This wouldn’t be bad at all if it was just the two of us.”
I needed those words more than he can know. He’s still in this with me. There are days when it’s hard to be the strong one. I need to be put first, comforted, and supported, too. I crave his sweet words, gentle touch, and attention. It seems so petty to mention when I know the depths of despair he’s swimming through.
“Come here.” Setting the mug on the nightstand, he tucks me under his arm and massages my scalp with his fingertips.
“That feels so good,” I say softly as I moan and lean into him. When he nips my bottom lip, my belly quivers. His tongue darts out and traces my lips. I lean into him, starved for the intimacy he’s initiating for the first time in weeks. Cupping my face, he slants his lips over mine, taking control. I’m a malleable clay, ready to be shaped and molded by his hands. He lowers me to the bed onto my back, and I open my legs, welcoming his weight. His bulge brushes up against my crotch, and I whimper at the friction he causes through our pajama bottoms and my panties.
“They’ll hear us,” I whisper.
“Let them.”