“Um…what are you doing for Thanksgiving?”
“Close your eyes,” he said again as he drizzled shampoo into his palm and waited for her to do as she was told before continuing. “I don’t give much thought to holidays.”
“Ava told me that she and Razor are planning to spend it in Cambria.”
She opened her eyes again when he didn’t say anything. He leaned forward and touched her lips with his. “Are you asking me to spend Thanksgiving with you?”
“I guess I am.”
“I’d enjoy that.”
“It isn’t too much? I mean, it’s a holiday.”
Monk smiled. “Stop overthinking things, Saylor. I enjoy spending time with you and the girls.”
“We enjoy spending time with you too.”
“Close your eyes,” he whispered. “Stop thinking. Just feel.”
He massaged her scalp, his fingers digging in just enough to make her groan.
“I like that sound,” he said, moving from her scalp, down her neck to her shoulders.
She groaned again. “That feels so good.”
When his hands left her body, she wanted to cry. She opened her eyes and watched as he lathered up the body wash. Monk raised a brow, and Saylor smirked and closed her eyes.
“Good girl,” he muttered, bringing his soapy hands to her breasts. He lifted their weight in each hand, and massaged them the same way he had her shoulders.
Saylor couldn’t stop herself from groaning again.
She felt his breath near her ear. “I dreamed about you making those sexy-as-fuck noises.”
He wrapped one arm around her waist as though he anticipated her knees buckling. His other hand trailed to the heat between her legs. While his fingers ran through her folds, his tongue circled her nipples with the cold ball on its tip. She gripped his shoulders as her body clenched in another mind-blowing orgasm. She lost count of how many she’d had in the last few hours. It was almost as though all it took was just having his hands, his mouth, his hardness touch her.
—:—
A few days later, Monk sat on Razor’s deck and raised his face to the sun. A day as warm as this on the Oregon Coast was rare, and it felt good. He loved heat. The hotter, the better, usually. Being with Saylor, though, feeling her warmth, made tolerating the colder climate easier.
He closed his eyes, letting his thoughts drift to earlier in the week when he’d pressed himself deep inside of her. He’d been away from Saylor for a handful of days, and yet his release was as strong as if he hadn’t had sex in several weeks.
The sliding door opened, and Razor joined him.
“Damn, it’s almost hot out here. Want one?”
Monk turned his head. “Thanks,” he said, taking the bottle of beer Razor offered.
“I was going to ask if you needed time off for the holidays, but Avarie said you’d be in Cambria with us for Thanksgiving.”
“Yes.”
Razor shook his head and laughed. “You’re the perfect man for my sister. You never talk and she never stops.”
“I haven’t found that to be true.”
When Razor raised his eyebrow and smirked, Monk shook his head and laughed.
“You’re welcome to tell me it’s none of my damn business, but Saylor…” Razor took a deep breath. “I don’t know how much you know about her ex, but he hurt her pretty bad. Not just physically, but emotionally too. The physical shit is why I took care of getting the fucker put in prison the minute I had enough on him.”