Heartburn (Love By Design 3)

“What?” Her flip flops slapped against the floor as she made her way down the hall to the walk in closet I fixed up in the extra guest room. She hadn’t been in her except maybe a handful of times early one and not since Hunter and I started this project. I admitted there was a giddiness to finally unveiling it to her.

“Come here!” I yelled again trying to get her attention. It was impossible to pull her away from a bright day with perfect sun exposure. Lia without her camera just didn’t happen anymore. It was an extension of her being.

“Okay, Neanderthal, I’m here. What’s all the fuss?” She stood in the doorway, her hip against the sash panel and I wanted her. Her hair was piled up on her head in a messy bun and her tight leggings showing off her curves made me sweat. Shaking off the desire because something better was ahead of us, I clenched my fists before going for it.

“Come. Here.” I pulled her into the dark room listening to her giggle as I shut the door. I pulled the cord above for the black light I finished installing this morning while she was photographing horses running through fields at a farm outside of town.

“Whit, it’s like two in the afternoon.” She raised her arms up and over my shoulders playing with the hair on the back of my neck that needed to be trimmed.

I huffed. She was a damn good distraction.

“I know and I want to know what you think of this closet.”

“For making out?” She queried. “A little afternoon delight.” She teased.

I grunted. Sure, I’d make out with her anywhere, pretty sure I had already. “Amelia.” I groaned feeling her body wiggle against mine. This might have been a bad idea dragging her in here.

“Whit, I gotta say it’s not our usual thing, but if you want to play a game of seven minutes in heaven like the kids do, I’m sure we can ask someone younger what the rules are.” She provoked me twining her hands up and around my neck pulling me down for a kiss.

“We can make out later.” I nipped her neck and pressed her against the wall. “Tell me what else you think about the closet.”

“It’s dark.” She made a full turn inside the circle of my arms before settling back in against me. I grinded against her because why not. I was definitely bending her over something when we finished in here.

“Yeah, but is it dark enough for your work?” Lia had been taking photographs while working for a studio in town so she could use their dark room to develop her private stuff like weddings and baby portraits. I had something in mind here in my house, which I wanted to mak

e into our house if she let go of her independent streak just a little bit. I hated that she kept her apartment with Dinah even with Ryder out of the picture.

“Umm? Yeah, it would totally work. Just needs a cover for the door so light doesn’t get in around the edges.”

“Like one of these?” Holding up a door stopper she takes it and moves over kicking it under the door.

“It would be perfect, but I’d probably want to test it out with some photos I took bumming around.”

“And the counter, with the sink for rinsing developed photos?” I turn the water on enough to let it run showing her the new plumbing.

“Ahh very nice. Whit what is all this?” Her angel wing eyebrows arched high in a question and I shrugged. Suddenly, I felt unsure, not of us, but what this next step meant and if we were both ready for it. We had fun, lots of sex, and did everything committed couples did, but the question I had yet to ask her was if she was truly mine one hundred percent. To me, that meant moving her stuff in and doing laundry together and cooking together, making decisions together, but mainly waking up together every single day. Being each other’s half.

“Whittaker Jones, what are you doing?” She posed the question forcing my hand. I was going to ask her anyway, but it was totally happening, and if I was honest with myself, I felt appropriately queasy.

“Maybe, I uh, want you to move in and develop photos here.” I shrugged playing it casual. “Like all the time?”

“Really, huh?” She roped her arms around me resting her hands on my shoulders. I propped her up on the counter. I would definitely like to be developing something in this room that’s for sure. Our bodies were mere shadows in the dim light, but I could see every gentle slope of her face and I cupped her cheeks in my hands.

“Really.” I rested my forehead on hers.

“Really, really?” She parroted. Her question was more of an unsure probe and I knew this was huge for us. A dresser drawer spoke volumes, even a key, but I had yet to find her here when I wasn’t, and I wanted that significant difference. I wanted her waiting for me to come home, and I wanted to be the one expecting her to come home here, to me.

“I like having you here.” I said with all the sincerity I could muster standing flush against my hot girl waiting for the right moment to slip her shirt off and lick her nipples. So I was little deviant in my motivations, but I loved this girl.

“I can tell, but you want exactly what?” Her fingers found my neck and moved into my hair slowly tugging sending shocks of arousal straight to my dick.

“I kind of think I want you here more often.” I chuffed. I’m not ready to propose, nowhere near that, but I did build my girlfriend a custom darkroom inside my house, a house that only feels complete when I share it with someone else, specifically her.

“Every day is a whole lot more often. Can you handle that, Ranger Jones?”

I pondered the possibility. “I think I could manage, we’ll have to see what develops.” I didn’t have to see her face to know she rolled her eyes in the dark room over my lame pun. “But you’ll have to pay the toll.” We’re playful stripping shirt offs and tossing them to the floor. I nipped the tip of her nose earning me a mousey squeak in the dark.

“What’s the charge for crossing the bridge?” Her breath hotly whispered against my face and I turned my head so our mouths grazed one another and our words drew on each other’s lips.