Perfect Chaos

When I find her grinning around her coffee cup, I don’t know whether to be glad or worried. So I shrug moodily. “Just thought you should know.”

“Are you pouting?”

“No.”

“You’re adorable.”

Adorable? “You mean manly, right?”

“Adorably manly.”

I shrug again. “I can live with that.” It’s better than being accused of being as soft as shit, I guess. I follow the journey of her coffee cup to the nightstand, and then her journey from the bed to me. She crawls onto my lap, squeezing my cheeks and resting her forehead on mine. We stare at each other, her smiling, me waiting with bated breath for what she might say next. “None of my lovers have been as good as you, either.”

I narrow my eyes on her, fighting back the elation. “Are you giving me lip service?”

“And none have ever given me a drawer in their apartment.” Her lips quirk, and I roll my eyes. “And the only lip service I give you is this kind.” Her mouth closes over mine and virtually swallows me whole, and I fall back to the bed, prepared to let her indulge me in her kind of lip service. It’s a good kind. The best kind. “I’m in your bed,” she says around my tongue. “I’m kissing you. Thinking of you. All. The. Time. I cannot resist you, Christianson. There are no other men, and I hope there are no other women.”

“There are definitely no other women.” I feel for the back of her head, pushing her into me, not bothering to try and stop my cock from coming to life. “I’m feeling needy,” I tease lightly, thrusting my hips up. I might sound like I’m playing, but I’m deadly serious. I want her to prove it. Now. Tomorrow. The next day.

She reaches to the waistband of my boxers and starts pushing them down, and I lift my arse, making her task easier. I’m soon naked and raring to go. But this morning, I’m on top. I roll us over so she’s on her back and grab a condom from the nightstand, slipping it on before settling over her. “You ready for me?”

She nods and I waste no time finding her gorgeous, welcoming pussy, breathing out as I drive into her. I fall to my forearms, close my eyes, and sigh. “There’s no better place on earth.” Damn fucking work.

“Tyler.” She groans my name and arches her back. “Open your eyes.” Following her order, I force my lids open and gaze at her. The twinkle in her blues is blinding, her hands stroking all over my back. “You really are different from the rest,” she says quietly, stilling me.

“What happened to better?”

“You’re better, too. But also different.”

Different? What does that even mean? “Why?”

Her hands encase my rough cheeks, capturing my face and holding it firmly. “Because it means something to me,” she whispers.

That’s it. All I wanted or needed. It means something, and none of the rest meant anything. I dip and kiss her sweetly, sliding out and rocking back in gently. “It means something to me too, beautiful.” One day, I hope to be able to say more to her than that, because I see a future with this woman. My dad’s words from years ago come to me. I’d laughed at him when he’d given in to one of Mum’s rants, and teased him that she had his balls in her handbag. I’ll never forget both the tender look on his face or the words he said.

But, son, when you find the right woman, the one who owns your heart, it’s not hard to concede on the small things. Your mum and I will never agree on everything. But each night when she turns to me and tells me she loves me, when she folds back into my arms and sighs in contentment, there are no words that aptly describe that feeling of rightness. My heart is home, and I need nothing more.

I’m struggling to get my head around what I feel for Lainey, but I do believe I see a glimpse of what my dad meant.

I don’t feel like I need anything more.

Fuck me, Dad. You were one hopeless romantic.

And it seems I’m more like you than I ever knew.IF I WAS A PEACOCK, the feathers fanning my arse would be glowing and swaying in time with my strides as I swagger down the corridor to the conference room. I feel invincible, ready to take the world on. I’ve gotten a shitload of work done this morning already.

After I made perfect, sweet, fucking glorious love to Lainey, we showered, dressed, and left for work together. It was nice. Better than nice. It felt natural to the point I’ve forgotten my previous morning routine—the days of swimming fifty lengths, readying myself with precision, polishing my shoes and checking my hair in all one hundred mirrors on my way down to my car. Give me Lainey in my bed, morning sex, wet, naked Lainey in my shower, and her company on the way to work any day of the fucking week. Okay, so I had to drop her around the corner from the office. That was the only bit I didn’t like about this morning. Everything else was top-notch heaven.