When we returned to New York, I was sure that what I’d been experiencing in Australia had been nothing more than being caught up in the newness of marriage and being in an exotic place. But I still found myself stopping to think about Kinsley throughout the day and eager to return home to her at night.
Kline hadn’t said anything, but I was wondering how long it would take him to speak up and accuse me of being unfocused and tell me that work wasn’t getting done.
Despite my worries over letting things at work slip through the cracks, I found myself bombarded by the most disturbing thoughts. I was imagining Kinsley, round with my child. Christmases with our little family in a house upstate. Family vacations and second honeymoons. Growing old together and grandkids.
Normally, these types of contemplations would have me losing my shit. But here I was, spinning them around in my head and wondering at their validity. Did I feel more for Kinsley than I thought I would? Could I love her? Could I possibly be considering a home and family, going against what I’d explicitly spelled out in our contract?
I decided to put it all out of my mind, and the best way I could think of to do that was to lose myself in my wife. After setting my now-empty tumbler in the kitchen sink, I made my way to our bedroom. Kinsley was dressed in a silky nightgown, sitting on the side of the bed, rubbing lotion into her arms.
She glanced up when she noticed my presence and smiled softly. I walked over and took her hands, lifting her to her feet. She was so fucking gorgeous; it took my breath away. I was as ravenous for her as always, but for some reason, my movements were slow and unhurried.
I undressed her, leaving trails of kisses behind, then laid her on the bed and brushed my lips over every spot I might have missed. My hands glided over her body, reveling in the softness of her skin and the trail of goose bumps that followed my path.
When I’d had my fill, I shed my own clothes and spread out over her. I took her mouth in a deep, sensuous kiss, and a torrent of emotions rose up. This wasn’t just about sex, and I couldn’t deny it any longer. Instead of losing myself in Kinsley, I found myself.
We didn’t fuck that night. I made love to her, over and over, for hours. Eventually, she collapsed into an exhausted sleep, and I gathered her close.
All of those thoughts and questions that had been plaguing me came roaring back.
Love, home, family? Did I want those things?
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
The answer was yes.
Chapter Eight
KINSLEY
Over the last three months, I’d taken two more trips with Sullivan. He refused to go without me. I was getting used to jet lag, but I was irritated to find that this time it was lasting longer than I expected. I thought it would get better after a few days. Instead, I felt even worse when I woke up this morning. I barely budged from my spot when Sullivan rolled out of bed to get ready to head to the office. I slept for several more hours, but it still hadn’t made a dent in my exhaustion.
And the body aches. I had sore muscles where I previously hadn’t even known they’d existed…although those could be from all the sex I’d been having. When I twisted in my chair next to my brother’s bed, the groan which left my lips would’ve given his grunts of pain during physical therapy a decent run for their money.
“You sound worse than me, and I had spinal surgery a little more than a month ago. You doing okay, sis?” he asked as he scooted to the edge of his bed and slowly swung his legs over to set his feet on the floor.
“I’m fine.” He quirked his brow and gave me a look that clearly said he thought I was lying. “I’m a little tired, that’s all. It’s been a busy few months, between your surgery, the wedding, and all the trips we’ve taken.”
“And by trip, you mean one of which was a honeymoon with your billionaire husband who I haven’t even met yet,” he grumbled. “I still don’t understand how you could suddenly up and get married to guy you’d never even mentioned to me before.”
“I promise you’ll meet him soon,” I assured him, sidestepping the comment about why I’d never brought Sullivan up before I told him about our whirlwind courtship.
Now that I’d talked to Sullivan about extending our deal to pretend to be madly in love so it included my family, too, I could bring the men in my life together.
“Are you embarrassed by me or something?” he asked softly.