Move the Stars (Something in the Way 3)

She put out four slices of bread and spread mayonnaise on each of them. “Be generous with the mayo, but don’t overdo it or it’ll get soggy.”

“Uh-huh.” I put my nose in her hair. What I would’ve given over the years to smell her shampoo. Feel her voice vibrate against my body as she spoke. Get a taste of the heaven I’d come close to before I’d been hauled off to prison. “Do you still have that watermelon lip stuff?”

“Huh?”

“That Chapstick you wore a long time ago.”

“I could probably find some,” she said distractedly.

“Find some.”

“Are you listening?” she asked, picking up an avocado.

“I’m trying.” I took it from her, cutting into the gnarled skin and slicing it onto both sandwiches.

“The ratio of meat to cheese to condiments is very important.”

“Tell me more about that.” I kissed her neck. Pinned her to the counter with my hips. Returned my hands under her robe, this time lowering them between her legs.

“Oh,” she moaned, squirting barbecue sauce on the counter.

“You’re making a mess,” I scolded.

“What?”

I caressed her, feeling an undeniable ownership over a body I’d only gotten command of a couple days ago. I wasn’t as familiar with her as I wanted to be, though, not by a long shot. I looked forward to learning everything that made her knees give out the way they were now. “How’s that feel, Birdy?” I murmured in her ear, holding her upright, rubbing her.

“This isn’t sanitary,” she whispered back. “For the sandwiches.”

“I’m not the one making them. Doesn’t matter if my hands get dirty.”

She bit her bottom lip while I lazily determined if she was wet enough now or if I should find a way to get her there. I needed to be inside her. Her teeth dug into her lip harder as I fingered her. She gripped the bottle of sauce and failed to keep her little squeaks inside. I urged her onto her toes, lifted her robe, and bent my knees enough to pull down my underwear and slide inside her.

“Don’t stop on my account,” I said, pushing deeper. She still couldn’t take all of me in one go, and easing in was a sweet kind of torture. “I guarantee you we’ll be hungry when we’re done.”

Breathlessly, she slapped ham onto both sandwiches. “The order of the meats matters . . .” She gulped, her fist curling around a deli bag of medium cheddar. “And the cheese, too . . .”

I laughed to myself, wondering how long she’d last, then squeezed my arm between her and the counter. “What next?” I asked as I circled her clit.

“I don’t know.” She fell forward and her hair parted, exposing the top of her spine to me. “I forget.”

I kissed the nape of her neck. Even that was sexy, the light freckles that hid under her blonde hair. I moved in and out of her until she had to grip the counter. I covered her hands with mine, interlacing our fingers as I held on with her and took her faster and faster until I was hanging by a thread, doing everything I could to make her come. She climaxed with her entire body, her shoulder blades jutting out and her hair shimmering like a golden waterfall.

I pulled out not a second too soon and came on the counter, right next to the sandwiches.

“Manning,” she scolded.

I had to chuckle as I massaged her slender shoulders, blowing on her damp hairline. “It was either there or your pretty robe,” I said, still catching my breath. “Come here.”

She turned her head, giving me her mouth. Kissing her was such a natural thing, but I’d been unable to do it so long, it felt exceptional. I needed it, and that was a first. I’d been satisfied after sex, but I’d never needed to feel close to anyone like Lake, to touch her, to know she was also sated and comfortable. As I kissed her, I realized what I loved about her in this moment wasn’t just her vulnerability, but that she’d brought it out in me, too.

When she tried to pull away, I kept her to me with a hand on her throat. “Not done with you yet.”

“I really should try to make the second part of my shift,” she murmured. “I need the money.”

Money. Lake wasn’t supposed to want for anything. For someone like her, the basics should be covered so she could be free to do and be what she wanted. That was the vision I’d had for her, the one my stubbornness had ruined.

“I mean, don’t you have work to do anyway?” she asked, wiping down the counter. She checked to make sure the sandwiches had been spared and resumed making them.

Work was a reality I couldn’t ignore. I hadn’t missed another meeting since we’d slept the day away, but only because I’d been rescheduling them to make room for her. The truth was, I needed to work while I was here. I was going to lose these clients once I left Ainsley-Bushner, but I couldn’t pass up the commission I would need to get me through the next few months. And not only that, but I hadn’t mentioned to Lake I was due a sizeable bonus at the new year. Anxious as I was about leaving my job without a replacement, I wasn’t sure I could walk away from that, but it would mean not initiating the divorce until after the holidays.