I have to laugh. “Yes, Mr. Orgasms. I’m more than okay.”
He grins. “Mr. Orgasms?”
“Anyone who makes me come so hard twice in one night should get a superhero nickname for it.”
His eyes dance with amusement, and he runs the back of his hand over my cheek. “I like making you come. It kind of makes me feel superhuman.” It should be a joke, and maybe he meant it that way, but there’s something like grief in his eyes.
“Why do you seem sad, then?”
He hesitates a beat. “I haven’t been with anyone since Amy.”
He’s told me that, and yet being here with this amazing man, knowing I’m the one he decided to change that with—it’s humbling. “You waited because you thought she’d come home.” It’s not a question—I get it—but he shakes his head.
“I wanted her to come home, but that’s not the real reason I didn’t get involved with anyone physically.” He sighs. “The truth is in the last couple years of my marriage, we had sex twice—once on my birthday and once on an anniversary. Both times were . . .” He rolls to his back and stares at the ceiling. I snuggle closer to his side and put a hand on his chest, listening if he wants to say more, but not pushing for it. “Those two times, I learned sex can be lonely. It was as if she was checking a box—something she felt like she needed to do. And let me tell you, getting pity-fucked by your own wife is a hundred times worse than celibacy. It’s lonely and soul-sucking.”
“I’m sorry.” I press my palm to his heart, feeling the steady beat there, the strength of it. “It wasn’t you, Kace.”
He shrugs. “Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. That doesn’t change the way it fucks with your head. I had a business meeting in Atlanta a couple of months after Amy moved out. A woman picked me up in the bar, and we went back to her room. I wanted to have sex with her, but as soon as we were naked and in bed, my brain latched on to those last couple of times with Amy and . . .” He winces. “It was a no-go.”
“Ouch.” I press a kiss to his shoulder. “I’m sure that happens a lot.”
He snorts. “Yeah, maybe, but . . .” He grabs my hand, brings it to his mouth, and presses a hard kiss against my knuckles. “None of that’s in my head when I touch you. You make me so crazy, make me feel so damn good. There’s no room for it.” He cups the back of my neck in one big hand, then rolls us over so he’s on top of me. I draw up my knees, letting him settle between my legs. He’s hard again, but there’s nothing sexual about this position right now. He frames my face with his palms and looks into my eyes. “I don’t ever want to get out of this bed.”
I hook my feet behind his back, wrap my arms around him, and pull him closer. “Then don’t.”
He smiles against my mouth and kisses me. Kace’s kisses are the stuff of legend—the sweep of his mouth, followed by parted lips and low groans as he touches his tongue to mine. I’ve never had a single kiss with him feel like he was going through the motions and trying to get something better. Kace kisses like a god because he loves kissing. I could get used to this.
He buries his hands in my hair and slants his mouth over mine. “I wish I didn’t have to wait until Wednesday to have you under me again,” he murmurs against my lips. “But I don’t want to make a habit of sneaking you in and out of my house while Hope’s here.”
I’m not sure what to think about that, so I try not to think too much about it at all.
He kisses his way to my neck, and his beard tickles my neck as he suddenly chuckles.
“What?” I ask. He laughs harder, and I poke his side. “What are you laughing about?”
He lifts up, bracing a hand on either side of my head, and smiles down at me. “Amy accused me of moving you into my backyard because driving across town to fuck you was too inconvenient.”
I flinch. “Wow.”
He hangs his head and laughs again. “I was thinking about how I can’t wait until you’re that close all the time, and I realized just now that maybe she’s a little right.”
I pinch his arm. “Excuse me?”
“Should I apologize about this? Do you hate that I can’t wait to get you moved in so I can touch you?” He sweeps his lips over mine. “Kiss you?” He dips his head and flicks his tongue over my peaked nipple. “Taste you?”