He filled her up with more than simply his body. As he held still, giving her a chance to adjust, he kissed her, long and deep, with something that was more than sweetness, more than heat. It was that elusive something she chased as he began to move, driving her up a third time. As the storm of pleasure overtook them both, she clung to the sensation and to him. Only as she lay tangled and sweaty against him did she recognize it for what the feeling was.
He made her feel cherished. The focus of his world—at least for right now.
“You were one of those kids who took your time opening Christmas presents instead of ripping off the paper, weren’t you?” Mary Alice’s sleepy voice held a thread of accusation.
Stroking a hand down the smooth skin of her back, Chad smiled and kissed her. “I learned the value of building anticipation early.”
“Boy, did you.” She stretched against him, and he loved every gloriously naked inch. “I feel amazing.”
“I feel pretty damned amazing myself. Happy and sated. For now.” Gently, he bit down on her shoulder.
“Mmm. I’m already looking forward to next time.”
“I’m gonna need fuel to manage a next time.”
“Fuel.” She sat bolt upright in bed. “The casserole!” With a bounce, she leapt out of bed and raced naked from the room.
God, what a woman.
Slipping on his boxers, Chad grabbed one of his shirts from the closet and headed into the kitchen. Mary Alice was bent over, pulling the casserole out of the oven. He took a moment to admire her bare ass and felt himself beginning to stir. “Well, that might just inspire me to wait on dinner.”
She set the dish on the stove with a thunk and a sigh. “Burned.”
Crossing to her, he slipped the shirt around her shoulders. “I’m sorry. Well, I’m not sorry we were otherwise occupied, but I am sorry the dinner you made got ruined.”
She shoved her arms into the sleeves. “At least there’s still pie.”
“Pie is always a good idea.”
Mary Alice cut two enormous slices, warming them in the microwave and adding a generous scoop of vanilla ice cream to the top. They ate at the pretty table she’d set, which was probably for the best, as it hid the tantalizing view of her bare legs. Seeing her in his shirt was temptation enough.
Chad forked up a bite and let the rich sweetness melt on his tongue. “This pie is delicious.”
“I have a question.”
“Yes, you can absolutely eat the next slice off my abs, so long as I get quid pro quo.”
She paused, the fork halfway to her lips, her mouth falling open, even as her eyes went dark. “Well, God. There’s an image.”
“Not what you were going to ask?”
“No, but we can file that away for later.”
“Sweet.”
One quick laugh burst out of her. “No, I wondered what it was that set you off earlier.”
“Pretty sure that was you.”
That quick, delighted smile was a reward unto itself. “No, I meant in the kitchen, when you kissed me. What was that about?”
They’d just been as intimate as two people could be. Surely, she wouldn’t balk at this. “You were standing there, looking gorgeous, asking about my day, with a casserole in the oven. You made my house feel like home, and I was thinking how nice it would be to come home to that every day.” He shrugged with more nonchalance than he felt. “Maybe it’s unenlightened or sexist of me, but I find the whole idea of coming home to a wife and family incredibly appealing.”
“I don’t think it’s sexist to want marriage and family. It’s only sexist if you expect those things to exist solely for your own edification at the expense of your partner’s.” She took a bite of her own pie and seemed to consider. “That’s really what you’re after? Long-term? I mean, in general.”
“Isn’t it what everybody’s after in the grand scheme of things?”
“No.” The word was flat and matter-of-fact.