“Lila’s having lower back pain. On her left side. Sciatica.”
Ronin nodded slowly, blinking away more droplets of water. “Why the tears, Evie?” He brushed his thumb along my cheek below my eye.
“I wanted to believe you, but it was just … hard.”
His other hand landed on my neck, gentle yet possessive. He bent down and kissed me, delivering his love with complete patience, unbroken trust, and a never-ending passion. That kind of love shouldn’t have evoked regret or guilt, but it did. I think I could have told him I saw a pig flying and he would have believed me. I felt certain Ronin loved me in a way that reached far beyond the simple definition of unconditional.
“Roe!” I gasped as he lifted me up, guiding my legs around his waist. “I’m too heavy. Your back …”
His open mouth swallowed my protests as he carried me to the bedroom. I sucked in a breath, turning my head to the side as my wet back hit the sheets.
“Cold!”
He grinned at me, leaning back to grab the blankets, completely covering us under their tent.
I giggled. It felt incredible.
“Evelyn Alexander … you are my favorite.” He kissed his way down my body, pausing at my breasts just long enough to make me moan and arch my back, slowly threading my hands into his wet hair.
“Your favorite what?” I murmured as my eyes closed.
He dragged his tongue down the center of my body achingly slow while his strong hands gripped my hips. “Everything.” He dipped his tongue into my navel. “You’re my favorite everything.”
“Roe …”
He excelled at wringing every possible emotion out of me. I needed a few minutes to just bask in his words. They were really incredible words, maybe the best words a man had ever spoken to a woman. However, my mind wandered to his back. I knew it hurt. “Your back.” I made another protest.
“Fuck my back.” He lifted my left leg, resting my foot on his shoulder, opening me up to him.
I clawed at the head of the bed, desperate to find a pillow to put over my face because things were about to get loud.
The next morning, I woke up before Ronin and made him an English muffin with peanut butter and filled his thermal canteen with hot coffee, feeling extra generous after his night of being so generous to me. After I had his breakfast lined up at the end of the counter for him to grab on his way out the door, I retrieved a pen and notepad from the junk drawer and wrote him a note.
Roe,
You’re my favorite everything too. Xo
~E
I heard the creak of the bathroom door, so I quickly folded the note and shoved it into the pocket of his jacket so he’d find it when he reached for his keys. Feeling a bottle next to his keys, I pulled it out of the pocket. It was a prescription bottle, but I couldn’t read the label in the dim light, so I took it over to the single light that was on above the sink.
“What did I do to deserve this?”
I jumped at Ronin’s voice, hugging the bottle to me as he pressed his chest to my back and wrapped his arms around me.
I cleared my throat, smiling past my surprise and confusion. “I think you know exactly what you did.”
He nipped at my neck. “In that case, I might have to do it more often.” His right hand slid under my short nightshirt, splaying out over my stomach. I felt so small molded against his tall frame with his possessive hand warm against my skin. “Think I can make a case for you making homemade pizza tonight?” His sexy, gravely morning voice seduced me as that possessive hand breached the waistband of my pink panties.
I swallowed as he teased my clit. “Probably …” My response came out as a labored breath.
“Do you remember what this used to lead to before Franz could walk?” He slid two fingers into me.
I closed my eyes and dropped my head back against his shoulder, widening my legs.
Yes. I remembered how good it felt to have Ronin fuck me against the kitchen counter from behind, our hands interlaced on the edge of the counter. I remembered how we couldn’t keep our hands off each other, how every touch, every fleeting glance led to clothes being ripped off and him impaling himself inside of me on a guttural “fuuuck … Evie …”
Those days were over, but the tradeoff was so much better. It made the stolen moments that much more intense and quick, maybe embarrassingly quick.
“Harder …” I whispered.
He chuckled, kissing my neck. “Only you, baby, would ask me to finger you harder.”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t have to.
Ronin obliged me while his left hand slid up my shirt to my breast, pinching my nipple.