“You’re frowning.” David walked up behind me slowly. His head cocked to the side making his dark hair fall over the side of his face. He tucked it behind an ear and moved closer. “Why are you doing that, hmm?”

I’d been putting together dinner. I’d found pizza crusts in the freezer so I took them out to defrost and started cutting up toppings and grating cheese, while worrying about what Lauren had told me, of course. The house didn’t seem so welcoming anymore. Armed with the knowledge that it had been bought with another woman in mind, my feelings toward the place had shifted. I was back to feeling like an interloper. Horrible but true. Insecurities sucked.

“Gimme.” From behind me he snagged my wrist and brought my hand to his mouth, sucking a smear of tomato paste from my finger. “Mm. Yum.”

My stomach squeezed tight in response. God, his mouth on me that morning. His plans for us tonight. It all felt like a dream, a crazy beautiful dream that I didn’t want to wake from. Nor did I need to. All would be well. We’d work things out. We were married again now, committed. He snaked an arm around me and pressed himself against my back, leaving no room between us for doubt.

“How are things going downstairs?” I asked.

“Real good. We’ve got four songs shaping up nicely. Sorry we ran a bit over,” he said, planting a kiss on the side of my neck, chasing the last of the bad thoughts far away. “But now it’s our time.”

“Good.”

“Making pizza?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I help?” he asked, still nuzzling the side of my neck. The stubble on his jaw scratched lightly at my skin, feeling strange and wonderful all at once. He made me shivery. Right up until he stopped. “You’re putting broccoli on it?”

“I like vegetables on pizza.”

“Zucchini, too. Huh.” His voice sounded slightly incredulous and he perched his chin on my shoulder. “How about that?”

“And bacon, sausage, mushrooms, peppers, tomatoes and three different types of cheeses.” I pointed the chopping knife at my excellent collection of ingredients. “Wait till you taste them. They’re going to be the best pizzas ever.”

“Course they are. Here, I’ll put them together.” He turned me to face him, rearing back when my chopping knife accidentally waved at him. His hands fastened onto my hips and he lifted me up onto the kitchen island. “Keep me company.”

“Sure thing.”

From the fridge he took a beer for him and a soda for me, since I was still avoiding alcohol. Tyler and Mal’s voices drifted through from the lounge room.

“We working again tomorrow?” Tyler called out.

“Sorry, man. We gotta head back to LA,” said David, washing his hands at the sink. He had great hands, long, strong fingers. “Give me a couple of days to sort shit out down there then we’ll be up again.”

Tyler stuck his head around the corner, giving me a wave. “Sounds good. The new stuff is coming together well. Bringing Ben and Jimmy back with you next time?”

David’s brow wrinkled, his eyes not so happy. “Yeah, I’ll see what they’re up to.”

“Cool. Pammy’s outside, so I gotta run. It’s date night.”

“Have fun.” I waved back.

Tyler grinned. “Always do.”

Chuckling quietly, Mal ambled in. “Date night, seriously … what the fuck is that about? Old people are the weirdest. Dude, you can’t put broccoli on pizza.”

“Yeah, you can.” David kept busy, scattering peppers around the little trees of broccoli.

“No,” said Mal. “That’s just not right.”

“Shut up. Ev wants broccoli on the pizza, then that’s what she gets.”

Ice-cold lovely sweet soda slid down my throat, feeling all sorts of good. “Don’t stress, Mal. Vegetables are your friend.”

“You lie, child bride.” His mouth stretched wide in disgust and he retrieved a bottle of juice from the fridge. “Never mind. I’ll just pick it off.”

“No, you’re going out,” said David. “Me and Ev are having date night too.”

“What? You’re fucking kidding me. Where am I supposed to go?”

David just shrugged and scattered pepperoni atop his steadily growing creations.

“Oh, come on. Evvie, you’ll stand up for me, won’t you?” Mal gave me the most pitiful face in all of existence. It was sadness blended with misery with a touch of forlorn on top. He even bent over and laid his head on my knee. “If I stay in town they’ll know we’re here.”

“You’ve got your car,” said David.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” Mal complained. “Don’t let him throw me out into the wild. I’ll get eaten by fucking bears or something.”

“I’m not sure they have bears around here,” I said.

“Cut the shit, Mal,” said David. “And get your head off my wife’s leg.”

With a growl, Mal straightened. “Your wife is my friend. She’s not going to let you do this to me!”

“That so?” David looked at me and his face fell. “Fuck, baby. No. You cannot be falling for this shit. It’s only one night.”

I winced. “Maybe we could go up to our room. Or he could just stay downstairs or something.”

David shoved his hands through his hair. The bruise on his poor cheek, I needed to kiss it better. His forehead did that James Dean wrinkling thing as he studied his friend. “Jesus. Stop making that pathetic face at her. Have some dignity.”

He cuffed the back of Mal’s head, making his long blonde hair fly in his face. Skipping back, Mal retreated beyond the line of fire. “Alright, I’ll stay downstairs. I’ll even eat your shitty broccoli pizza.”

“David.” I grabbed his T-shirt and tugged him toward me. And he came, abandoning his pursuit of Mal.

“This is supposed to be our time,” he said.

“I know. It will be.”

“Yes!” hissed Mal, getting gone while he was ahead. “I’ll be downstairs. Yell when dinner’s ready.”

“He’s got a girl in every city,” said David, scowling after him. “No way was he sleeping in his car. You’ve been played.”

“Maybe. But I would have worried about him.” I tucked his dark hair behind his ears then trailed my hands down to the back of his neck, drawing him closer. The studs in his ears were all small, silver. A skull, an “x” and a super tiny winking diamond. I hadn’t noticed it before.

He pressed his earlobe between his thumb and a finger, blocking my view.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“I was just looking at your earrings. Do they mean anything special?”

“Nope.” He gave me a quick peck on the cheek. “Why were you frowning earlier?” He picked up a handful of mushrooms and started adding them to the pizzas. “You’re doing it again now.”

Crap. I kicked my heels, turned all the excuses over inside my head. I had no idea how he’d react to my knowing the things Lauren had told me. What would he think if I asked about them? Starting a fight did not appeal. But lying didn’t either. Withholding was lying, deep down where it mattered. I knew that.

“I talked to my friend Lauren today.”

“Mmhmm.”

I pushed my hands down between my legs and squeezed them tight, delaying. “She’s a really big fan.”

“Yeah, you said.” He gave me a smile. “Am I allowed to meet her or is she off-limits like your dad?”

“You can meet my dad if you want.”

“I want. We’ll take a trip to Miami sometime soon and I’ll introduce you to mine, okay?”

“I’d like that.” I took a deep breath, let it out. “David, Lauren told me some things. And I don’t want to keep secrets from you. But I don’t know how happy you’re going to be about these things that she told me.”

He turned his head, narrowed his eyes. “Things?”

“About you.”

“Ah. I see.” He picked up two handfuls of grated cheese and sprinkled them across the pizzas. “So you hadn’t looked me up on Wikipedia or some shit?”

“No,” I said, horrified at the thought.

He grunted. “It’s no big deal. What do you want to know, Ev?”

I didn’t know what to say. So I picked up my soda and downed about half of it in one go. Bad idea—it didn’t help. Instead, it gave me a mild case of brain freeze, stinging above the bridge of my nose.

“Go on. Ask me whatever you want,” he said. He wasn’t happy. The angry monobrow from drawing his eyebrows together clued me in to that. I didn’t think I’d ever met anyone with such an expressive face as David. Or maybe he just fascinated me full stop.

“Alright. What’s your favorite color?”

He scoffed. “That’s not one of the things your friend told you about.”

“You said I could ask whatever I wanted and I want to know what your favorite color is.”

“Black. And I know it’s not really a color. I did miss a lot of school, but I was there that day.” His tongue played behind his cheek. “What’s yours?”

“Blue.” I watched as he opened the gargantuan oven door. The pizza trays clattered against the racks. “What’s your favorite song?”

“We’re covering all the basics, huh?”

“We are married. I thought it would be nice. We sort of skipped a lot of the getting-to-know you stuff.”

“Alright.” The side of his mouth kicked up and he gave me a look that said he was onto my game of avoidance. The faint smile set the world to rights.

“I got a lot of favorite music,” he said. “‘Four Sticks’ by Led Zeppelin, that’s up there. Yours is ‘Need You Now’ by Lady Antebellum, as sung by an Elvis impersonator. Sadly.”

“Come on, I was under the influence. That’s not fair.”

“But it is true.”

“Maybe.” I still wished I could remember it. “Favorite book?”

“I like graphic novels. Stuff like Hellblazer, Preacher.”

I took another mouthful of soda, trying to think up a genius question. Only all the blatantly obvious ones appeared inside my head. I sucked at dating. It was probably just as well that we’d skipped that part.

“Wait,” he said. “What’s yours?”

“Jane Eyre. How about your favorite movie?”

“Evil Dead 2. Yours?”

“Walk the Line.”

“The one about the man in black? Nice. Okay.” He clapped his hands together and rubbed them. “My turn. Tell me something terrible. Something you did that you’ve never confessed to another living soul.”

“Ooh, good one.” Scary, but good. Why couldn’t I have thought of a question like that?

He grinned around the top of his bottle of beer, well pleased with himself.

“Let me think …”

“There’s a time limit.”

I screwed up my face at him. “There is not a time limit.”

“There is,” he said. “Because you can’t try and think up something half assed to tell me. You’ve gotta give me the first worst thing that comes into your head that you don’t want anyone else ever knowing about. This is about honesty.”

“Fine,” I sniffed. “I kissed a girl named Amanda Harper when I was fifteen.”

His chin rose. “You did?”

“Yes.”

He sidled closer, eyes curious. “Did you like it?”

“No. Not really. I mean, it was okay.” I gripped the edge of the bench, hunching forward. “She was the school lesbian and I wanted to see if I was one too.”

“There was just the one lesbian at your school?”

“Oh, I suspected quite a few people, but only she was open about it. She gave herself the title.”

“Good for her.” His hands settled on my knees and pushed them apart, making room for him. “Why did you think you were a lesbian?”

“To be accurate, I was hoping I was bi,” I said. “More options. Because, honestly, the guys at school were …”

“They were what?” He gripped my butt and pulled me across the bench, bringing me closer. No way did I resist.

“They didn’t really interest me, I guess.”

“But kissing your lesbian friend Amanda didn’t do it for you either?” he asked.

“No.”

He clicked his tongue. “Damn. That’s a sad story. You’re cheating, by the way.”

“What? How?”

“You were meant to tell me something terrible.” His smile left a mile way behind. “Telling me you tongue-kissed a girl isn’t even remotely terrible.”

“I never said there was tongue.”

“Was there?”

“A little. The briefest of touches, maybe. But then I got weirded out and stopped it.”

He took another swig of beer. “Your ear tips are doing the pink thing again.”

“I bet they are.” I laughed and ducked my head. “I didn’t cheat. I never told anyone about that kiss. I was going to take it to my grave. You should feel honored by my trust in you.”

“Yeah, but telling me something I’m likely to find a huge turn-on is cheating. You were meant to tell me something terrible. The rules were clear. Go again and give me something bad this time.”

“It’s a huge turn-on, huh?”

“Next time I hit the shower I’m definitely using that story.”

I bit my tongue and looked away. Memories from this morning of David soaping up my hands and then putting them on him assailed my mind. The thought of him masturbating to my brief bout of teen sexual experimentation … “honored” wasn’t quite the right word. But I couldn’t say I wasn’t pleased by the notion. “Well, remember to make me older. Fifteen is a bit skeevy.”

“You only kissed her.”

“You’ll leave it at that in your head? You’ll respect accuracy and legalities, and not take it any further between Amanda and me?”

“Fine, I’ll make you older. And wildly fucking curious.” He pulled me closer using the hands-on-my-butt method again and I put my arms around him.

“Now, go again, and do it right this time.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He gave the side of my neck a lingering kiss. “You weren’t lying about Amanda, were you?”

“No.”

“Good. I like that story. You should tell it to me often. Now go again.”

I ummed and ahhed, procrastinating my little heart out. David rested his forehead against mine with a heavy sigh. “Just fucking tell me something.”

“I can’t think of anything.”

“Bullshit.”

“I can’t,” I whined. Not anything I wanted to share, anyway.

“Tell me.”

I groaned and bumped my forehead against his ever so lightly. “David, come on, you’re the last person I want to make myself look bad in front of.”

He drew back, inspecting me down the length of his nose. “You’re worried about what I think of you?”

“Of course I am.”

“You’re honest and good, baby. Nothing you might have done is gonna be that bad.”

“But honest isn’t always good,” I said, trying to explain. “I’ve opened my mouth plenty of times when I shouldn’t have. Given people my opinion when I should have kept quiet. I react first and think later. Look at what happened in Vegas, between us. I didn’t ask any of the right questions that morning. I’m always going to regret that.”

“Vegas was a pretty extreme situation.” His hand rubbed my back, reassuring me. “You got nothing to worry about.”

“You asked me how I felt when you had that groupie hanging off you in LA. I dealt with it then. But the fact is, if that happened now and some woman tried to come onto you, I’d probably get stabby. I’m not always going to react well to the rock star hoopla that surrounds you. What happens then?”

He made a noise in his throat. “I dunno, I finally have to realize that you’re human? That you fuck up sometimes just like everybody else?”

I didn’t answer.

“We’ll both screw up, Ev. That’s a given. We just gotta be patient with each other.” He put a finger beneath my chin, raising it up so he could kiss me. “Now tell me about what Lauren told you today.”

I stared at him, caught and cornered. The contents of my stomach curdled for real. I had to tell him. There would be no getting around it. How he reacted was beyond my control. “She told me that your first girlfriend cheated on you.”

He blinked. “Yeah. That happened. We’d been together a long time, but … I was always either recording or on the road,” he said. “We’d been touring Europe for eight, nine months when it happened. Touring fucks up a lot of couples. The groupies and the whole lifestyle can really screw with you. Being left behind all the time is probably no picnic either.”

I bet it wasn’t. “When do you tour next?”

He shook his head. “There’re none booked. Won’t be until we get this new record down, and that hasn’t been going so well until now.”

“Okay. How does this work? I mean, do you believe what happens on the road, stays on the road?” I asked. The boundaries of our relationship had never really been established. Exactly what did our marriage mean? He wanted us to stick together, but I had school to consider, my job, my life. Maybe the good wives just dumped it all and went with the band. Or maybe wives weren’t even invited. I didn’t have a clue.

“You asking me if I’m planning on cheating on you?”

“I’m asking how we fit into each other’s lives.”

“Right.” He pinched his lips between his thumb and finger. “Well, I think not fucking around on each other would be a good start. Let’s just make that a rule for us, okay? As for the band and stuff, I guess we take it as it comes.”

“Agreed.”

Without a word he stepped back from me, crossing over to the stairwell. “Mal?”

“What?”

“Close the door down there and lock it,” David yelled. “Don’t you come up here under any circumstances. Not till I tell you it’s okay. Understood?”

There was a pause then Mal yelled back. “What if there’s a fire?”

“Burn.”

“Fuck you.” The door downstairs slammed shut.

“Lock it!”

Mal’s reply was muffled but the pissy tone carried just fine. These two were more akin to actual brothers than David and his biological sibling. Jimmy was a jerk and just one of the very good reasons we should never return to LA. Sadly, hiding out in Monterey wasn’t a viable long-term solution.

School, band, family, friends, blah blah blah.

David reached for the back of his T-shirt and dragged it off over his head. “Rule number two, if I take my shirt off you have to take off yours. The shirt-off rule now applies to these sorts of conversations. I know we need to talk about stuff. But there’s no reason we can’t make it easier.”

“This’ll make it easier?” Highly doubtful. All that smooth, hot skin just waiting for my touch and my fingers itching to do so. Keeping my tongue inside my mouth while his flat stomach and six-pack were revealed tested my moral fortitude no end. All that beautiful inked skin on display, driving any attempt at a coherent thought straight out of my mind. Good God, the man had some power over me. But wait up, we were married. Morally, I was obliged to ogle my husband. It would be unnatural and wrong to do otherwise.

“Get it off,” he said, tipping his chin at my offending items of clothing.

The stairwell sat calm and quiet. No signs of life.

“He ain’t coming up here. I promise.” David’s hands gripped the bottom of my T-shirt and carefully pulled it off over my head, rescuing my ponytail when it got caught.

When he reached for my bra I pressed my forearms to my chest, holding it in place. “Why don’t I keep the bra, just in case …”

“It’s against the rules. You really wanna go breaking rules already? That’s not like you.”

“David.”

“Evelyn.” The bra’s band relaxed as he undid the clasp. “I need to see your bare breasts, baby. You have no idea how much I fucking love them. Let it go.”

“Why do you get to make all the rules?”

“I only made that one. Oh, no—two. We have the cheating rule as well.” He tugged at my bra and I eased my grip, letting him take it. No way was I moving my arms though.

“Go on, you make some rules,” he said, running his fingers over my arms, making every little hair stand on end.

“Are you just trying to distract me from the conversation with the no clothes thing?”

“Absolutely not. Now make a rule.”

My hands stayed tucked beneath my chin, arms covering all the essentials, just in case. “No lies. Not about anything.”

“Done.”

I nodded, relieved. We could do this marriage thing. I knew it in my head, my heart. We were going to be okay. “I trust you.”

He stopped, stared. “Thanks. That’s big.”

I waited, but he said no more.

“Do you trust me?” I asked, filling the silence. The minute the words left my lips I wanted them back. If I had to demand his faith and affection, it didn’t mean a damn thing. Worse than that, it did damage. I could feel it, a sudden jagged wound between us. One that I’d made. Of all the stupid times for me to get impatient! I wished it was the middle of winter so I could go stick my head in a snowdrift.

His gaze wandered away, over my shoulder. There was my answer right there. Honesty had already shown me who was boss. How about that? I suddenly felt cold and though it had nothing to do with losing my shirt, I really wanted to put it back on.

“I’m getting there, Ev. Just … give me time.” Frustration lined his face. He pressed his lips together ’til they whitened. Then he looked me in the eye. Whatever he saw didn’t help matters. “Shit.”

“It’s okay, really,” I said, willing it to be true.

“You lying to me?”

“No. No. We’ll be fine.”

In lieu of an answer he kissed me.

You couldn’t beat a well-timed distraction. Heat rushed back into me. His regret and my hurt both took a back seat when I placed my hands on top of his. With fingers meshed I moved our combined hands to cover my breasts. We both groaned. The heat of his palms felt sublime. The chill of disappointment couldn’t combat it. The chemistry between us won out every time. I had to believe more feelings would follow. My shoulders pushed forward, pressing me harder into his hands as if gravity had shifted toward him. But also, I wanted his mouth. Hell, I wanted to crawl around inside him and read his mind. I wanted everything. Each dark corner of him. Every stray thought.

Our lips met again and he groaned, hands kneading my breasts. His tongue slipped into my mouth and that fast and easy I ached for him. Needed him. My insides squeezed tight and my legs wrapped around him, holding him tight. Let him try and get away now. I’d fight tooth and nail to keep him. Thumbs stroked over my nipples, teasing me. My hands slid up his arms, curved over his shoulders, holding steady. Hot kisses trailed over my face, my jaw, the side of my neck. Half naked or not, I don’t think I’d have cared if my high school marching band paraded through the room. They could bring baton twirlers and all. Only this mattered.

No wonder people took sex so seriously, or not seriously enough at all. Sex addled your wits and stole your body. It was like being lost and found all at once. Frankly, it was a little frightening.

“We will be fine,” he said, teasing my earlobe with his teeth. Rubbing his hardness against me. God bless whoever had thought to put a seam right there in jeans. Lights danced before my eyes. Did it feel as good for him? I wanted it to be the best and I wanted him to be right about us being fine.

“Sweet baby, just need time,” he said, his warm breath skating over my skin.

“Because of her,” I said, needing it to be out there in the open. No secrets.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice faint. “Because of her.”

The truth bit.

“Evelyn, there’s just you and me in this. I swear.” He returned to my mouth and kissed me as if I was delicate, giving me only the briefest taste of him. An awareness of warmth, the firmness of his lips.

“Wait,” I said, making my legs give up their grip on him.

He blinked dark, hazy eyes at me.

“Move back. I want to hop down.”

“You do?” His lovely mouth turned down at the edges. The front of his jeans were in a state of obvious distress. I’d done that to him. A victory lap around the kitchen counter would probably be taking it too far, but still, it felt good. That knowledge sat well within me. She didn’t do that to him these days. I did.

I shuffled off the edge of the counter and he grabbed my hips, easing my descent to the floor. Just as well. My legs were liquid. He stared down at me, his brow wrinkled.

“There’s something I want to do,” I explained, fingers shaking from nerves and excitement. First I wrangled with the button of his jeans before moving onto the straining zipper.

His hands gripped my wrists. “Hey. Wait.”

I hesitated, waiting to hear what he had to say. Surely he wouldn’t try to tell me he didn’t want this. Every guy wanted this, or so I’d been told. He looked perplexed, as if I was a piece that refused to fit the puzzle. I honestly didn’t know if he meant to stop me or hurry me onward.

“Is there a problem?” I asked, when he didn’t speak.

Slowly he removed his hands from my wrists, setting me free. He held them up like I’d pointed a gun at him. “This is what you want?”

“Yes. David, why is this a big deal? Don’t you want my mouth on you?”

A soft smile curved his lips. “You have no idea how much I want that. But this is another first for you, isn’t it?”

I nodded, fingers fiddling with the waistband of his jeans, but going no further.

“That’s why it’s a big deal. I want all your firsts to be perfect. Even this. And I’m pretty fucking worked up here just at the thought of you sucking me.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve been thinking about you all damn day. I kept fucking things up, couldn’t concentrate for shit. Amazing we got anything done.” He pushed his fingers through his long hair, pulling it back from his face. His hands stayed on top of his head, stretching out his lean, muscular torso. The bruise on his ribs from the bar fight last night was a dark gray smudge, marring perfection. I leaned in, kissing it. His gaze never left me because my bare breasts were still most definitely a part of me. My eyes, my mouth, my breasts: he couldn’t seem to decide what fascinated him the most.

Carefully, I lowered the zipper over his erection. No underwear. At least I didn’t jump this time when his hard-on made its sudden appearance. With two hands I pushed down his jeans, freeing his cock. It stood tall and proud. Just like this morning I pressed my hand against the underside, feeling the heat of the silken skin. Funny, the idea of the male appendage had never particularly moved me before. But now I felt moved, as my clenched thighs attested.

Moved and more than a little proprietary.

“You’re mine,” I whispered, my thumb rubbing around the edge of the head, feeling out the ridge and the dip in the middle. Learning him.

“Yeah.”

The sweet spot sat below that little tuck. Over the years, I’d read enough magazines and listened to enough of Lauren’s tales of sexcapades to know as much. She did love her details. I made a mental note to thank her, take her out to dinner somewhere nice.

I moved my hand around so that I gripped him and massaged the area with the pad of my thumb, waiting to see what happened. Much easier to see what was going on without the soap bubbles in the way. It didn’t take long. Especially not once I tightened my hold on him a little and pumped slightly. His stomach muscles flinched and danced, the same as they had this morning in the shower. My fingers moved the soft, smooth skin, massaging the hard flesh beneath, pumping once, twice. A bead of milky fluid leaked from the small slit in the top.

“That means you’re fucking killing me,” my husband supplied helpfully, his voice guttural. “Just in case you were wondering.”

I grinned.

He swore.

“I swear it gets bigger every time I see it.”

His smile was lopsided. “You inspire me.”

I stroked him again and his chest heaved. “Evelyn. Please.”

Time to put him out of his misery. I knelt, the floor uncomfortably hard beneath me. If you were going to kneel in front of someone, some minor discomfort seemed an obvious part of the territory. It all added to the atmosphere, the experience. The musky scent of him was stronger later in the day. I took his cock in hand and nuzzled his hip bone, breathing him in deep.

He still watched. I checked to be sure. Hell, his eyes were huge and dark and focused solely on me. Beside him, his hands gripped the counter as if he expected a tremor to hit at any time, knuckles white.

When I took him into my mouth he moaned. My inexperience and his size prevented me from taking him too deep. He didn’t seem to mind. The salty taste of his skin and the bitterness of that liquid, the warm scent of him and the feel of his hardness, merged into one unique experience. Pleasing David was a brilliant thing.

He groaned and his hips jerked, pushing him further into my mouth. My throat tightened in surprise and I gagged slightly. His hand flew to my hair, patting, soothing. “Fuck, baby. Sorry.”

I resumed my ministrations, rubbing my tongue against him, drawing on him. Figuring out the best way to fit him into my mouth. Doing everything I could to make him tremble and cuss. What a glorious thing giving head was. His hand tightened in my hair, pulling some, and I loved it. All of it. Anything with the ability to reduce my world-weary husband to a stammering mess while giving him such pleasure deserved a serious time investment. His hips shifted restlessly and his cock jerked against my tongue, filling my mouth with that salty, bitter taste faster than I could swallow.

So it was messy. Never mind. My jaw hurt a little. Big deal. And I could have done with a glass of water. But his reaction …

David dropped to his knees and gathered me up in his arms, all the better to squish me against him. My ribs creaked, and his dug into me over and over as he fought for breath. I pressed my face against his shoulder and waited till he’d calmed down some to seek my acclaim.

“Was it okay?” I asked, reasonably certain of a favorable response. Which is always the best time to ask, in my opinion.

He grunted.

That was it? I sat there feeling rather proud of myself and he gave me a grunt. No, I needed more validation than that. I both wanted and deserved it. “Are you sure?”

He sat back on his heels and stared at me. Then he looked around, searching for something. The T-shirt he’d left forgotten on the floor. And then he wiped beneath my chin, cleaning me up. Nice.

“There’s some on your shoulder too.” I pointed at the unfortunate spillage I’d obviously transferred onto him. He wiped it up as well.

“Sex can get messy,” he said.

“Yes, it can.”

“You on the pill?”

“You can’t get pregnant that way, David.”

The side of his mouth twitched. “Cute. Are you on the pill?”

“No, but I have the birth control thing implanted in my arm because my periods are erratic so—” His mouth slammed over the top of mine, kissing me hard and deep. Shutting me up really effectively. A hand cradled the back of my head as he took me down to the floor, stretching out on top of me. The cold, hard flooring beneath my bare back barely registered. It didn’t matter so long as he kissed me. My hands clung to his shoulders, fingers sliding over slick skin.

“I care about your periods, Ev. Honest to fuck I do.” He kissed my cheeks, my forehead.

“Thanks.”

“But right now I wanna know how you feel about us going bare?”

“You mean more than losing the shirts, I take it?”

“I mean fucking without a condom.” His hands framed my face as he stared down at me, eyes that intense shade of blue. “I’m clean. I’ve been tested. I don’t do drugs and I always used protection, ever since I broke up with her. But it’s your call.”

The mention of “her” cooled me a bit, but not much or for long. Impossible with David sprawled all over me and the scent of sex so heavy in the air. Plus pizza. But mostly David. He made my mouth water, forget about the food. Thinking wasn’t easy given the situation. I’d said I trusted him and I did.

“Baby, just think about it,” he said. “There’s no rush. Okay?”

“No, I think we should.”

“Are you certain?”

I nodded.

He exhaled a deep breath and kissed me again.

“I fucking love your mouth.” With the top of a finger he traced my lips, still swollen from what we’d been up to.

“You did like it? It was okay?”

“It was perfect. Nothing you do could be wrong. I almost lose it just knowing it’s you. You could accidentally bite me and I’d probably think it was fucking hot.” He gave a rough laugh, then hastened to add, “But don’t do that.”

“No.” I arched my neck and pressed my lips to his, kissing him sweet and slow. Showing him what he meant to me. We were still rolling around on the kitchen floor when the buzzer on the oven screeched, startling us apart. Then the phone rang.

“Shit.”

“I’ll get the pizza,” I said, wriggling out from beneath him.

“I’ll grab the phone. No one should even have this damn number.”

An oven mitt sat waiting on the counter and I slipped it over my hand. Hot air and the rich scent of melted cheese wafted out when I opened the oven door. My stomach rumbled. So maybe I was hungry after all. The pizzas were a touch burnt around the edges. Nothing too bad, though. The tips of my broccoli were toasted golden brown. We could concentrate on the middle. I transferred the pizzas onto the cool stovetop and turned off the heat.

David talked quietly in the background. He stood in front of the bank of windows, legs spread wide and shoulders set like he was bracing himself for an attack. Relaxed, happy people didn’t strike that pose. Outside the sun was setting. The violet and gray of evening cast shadows on his skin.

“Yeah, yeah, Adrian. I know,” he said.

Trepidation tightened me one muscle at a time. God, please, not now. We were doing so well. Couldn’t they stay away just a little longer?

“What time’s the flight?” he asked.

“Fuck,” came next.

“No, we’ll be there. Relax. Yeah, bye.”

He turned to face me, phone dangling from his hand. “There’s some stuff going on in LA that Mal and I need to be there for. Adrian’s already sent a chopper for us. We all need to get ready.”

My smile strained my face, I could feel it. “Okay.”

“Sorry we’re getting cut short here. We’ll come back soon, yeah?”

“Absolutely. It’s fine.”

That was a lie, because we were going back to LA.