Emma presses her palms to the black plastic to lift herself up. Her ass hits the slick surface. Then her legs.

She slides over the counter.

To me.

My hand goes to her hair. I cup the back of her head. Tilt her so she's staring up at me.

Her dark eyes are wide with enthusiasm.

Let's get out of here so we can fuck properly.

I see that look every day.

I never get tired of it.

Ever.

I lean down to press my lips to hers.

Her tongue swirls around mine. Her fingers dig into my hair. Her legs wrap around my hips.

I groan against her mouth.

She groans back.

Someone launches into a slow clap.

Someone else yells. "Come on, take it off. I want full penetration this time."

That's Wes.

I think.

Everything is a blur of breathy vocals, laughter, Emma's groan.

I warned Emma she'd train me to associate her favorite music genre with stripping her naked.

She did.

It gets worse every day.

I start panting the second I hear that thrashing guitar riff.

Right now, with her favorite album pouring from the speakers, her hands in my hair, her body pressed against mine—

Fuck, I'm not sure I can contain myself.

I pull back with a deep groan.

It's the only way to make sure I don't deliver on Wes's demand for full penetration.

I want her now.

Here.

Anywhere.

It doesn't matter as long as I get all of her.

Emma lets out a heady sigh.

Her dark eyes get dreamy.

Her expression is the perfect mix of affection and desire.

She wants me.

My body.

My heart.

My soul.

She has all of it—all of me—but it never hurts to remind her.

I wrap my fingers around her wrist. Bring her hand under my t-shirt. To the raised lines of the tattoo I got for her.

She stares up at me as she wraps her fingers around my wrist.

Brings my hand to the tattoo she got for me.

My fingertips skim the soft fabric of her dress.

I can't see or feel the ink, but I know it's there.

Our design.

Our love, on her body, forever.

She surprised me with the tattoo at our one year anniversary. She played it down, said it was more about needing to mark her body than to proclaim our love for the world to see.

But I don't care if the world sees it.

Only that I see it.

The ink isn't exactly in a show this off every day spot.

It's on her right side.

Fuck, she's tough, getting her first tattoo on her ribs.

But that was never a doubt.

Emma has always been an adorable badass.

"Hey, lovebirds. You gonna deliver that show or not?" Wes calls.

Griffin laughs. "You love their love."

"No, I love hot naked chicks." Wes motions go on.

"Admit it. You cried when she did her ink," Griffin says.

Wes clams up. "I did not." He shrugs whatever. "Go home if you're gonna get mushy. We got enough of that all day."

"Aw, you and your girl in a fight?" Griffin reaches over and musses Wes's hair.

Wes slaps his hand away. "Watch it."

"She get mad at you?" Griffin asks.

Wes mutters something and storms off.

We thought falling in love would ease his obnoxious tendencies, but it hasn't.

He's less high strung (though he'd never admit it), but he's even more Wes.

"He does have a point." Emma runs her fingers through my hair. "We could be at your place."

"Yeah?" I rest my palm on her cheek. Rub her temple with my thumb.

Her eyelids flutter together as she leans into the gesture. "Hunter…"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Don't make me say it here."

"Say what?" This is the only time I see Emma shy.

It doesn't happen as often as it used to.

She's at home with her body now.

She's past what happened with that asshole.

But she's not the same as she was either.

Those scars made her stronger.

I lobbied for her to press charges. Make it official.

But she wanted to move on.

To close that chapter.

At the time, I was pissed he wouldn't hurt for what he did. I wanted to go to his place and kick his ass.

I wanted to kill him.

But I knew that would only poke her bruise.

I'm still not sure it was the right call—her deciding to keep the assault a secret, something that only me and Kaylee knew—but I trust Emma.

She knows what's best for her.

And I—

Fuck, I'm still over the moon that she believes I'm what's best for her.

"I want to fuck you senseless." Her voice pulls me back to the moment.

It's soft. Breathy. Needy.

The Emma only I get.

"Hunter." Her eyes flutter open. "Don't make me do it here."

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to give Wes the satisfaction."

"That's the only reason?"

Her nod is heavy.

It's there, in her eyes.

Right now, she doesn't care about anything but getting me naked.

I pull back and offer Emma my hand.

She takes it as she slides off the counter. "Your place is still a fifteen minute walk?"

I nod.

"You're cruel."

"You prefer the back room?"

Her eyes dart to the door. For a long moment, she considers it. Then she shakes her head. "No. Your place." Her fingers intertwine with mine as she takes a step toward the door. "But walk fast."

The second I close the apartment door, Emma pounces.

She hooks her first two fingers through my belt loop and leads me straight to the bedroom.

She doesn't even glance at the closed office door.

Thank fuck.

This needs to stay a surprise.

No. It doesn't matter how I tell her.

As long as she says yes.

But what I have planned for after—

I'm pretty sure that shit is going to help my chances.

She kicks the bedroom door open and steps backward. "Clothes off."

"You first."

She shakes her head. "You first."

"Baby, you know I love it when you get bossy."

"If you loved it, you'd obey orders."

"Yeah?" I raise a brow.

She laughs and falls back onto the bed. "Clothes. Off." She places her palms on the crimson comforter. Then she lifts one and motions off.

Fuck she looks good surrounded in crimson.

She belongs here.

In this bed.

Our bed.

It's practically ours—she spends every weekend here, her clothes take up half my dresser and most of my closet, her Sarcasm Loading mug is sitting on my counter—but that technical difference between practically ours and actually ours—

I can't take it anymore.

I need our lives intertwined.

I need to make it official.

Hell, if I thought her brother would accept it, I'd already have a ring.

As it is…

Brendon and I are close now.

Hell, he's one of my best friends.

He knows I love Emma more than anything.

We both want the best for her.

But he still sees her as his baby sister.

I can't wait for him.

I'm going to ask her one day.

Soon even.

But first things first.

"You're getting hazy." Her dark eyes fill with curiosity. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Nervous as hell. But okay. No, better. "I'm fucking fantastic."

"You know what would be fantastic?"

I shake my head.

"If you were naked."

"Baby, you're insatiable."

"Always."

"Always?" I raise a brow.

She nods. "When am I not?"

It's a fair point. There hasn't been a single point in our relationship where we've been able to keep our hands off each other.

It was equal points lust and affection at first.

I needed her perky tits in my hand, her apple ass against my pelvis, her cunt pulsing around me.

I still need her body.

But I need so much more.

I need her unfurling for me.

Offering herself to me.

Inviting me into her body.

Fuck, the trust that flows between us—

It still takes my breath away.

She clears her throat, calling me back to the room. "You're already—" She points to my hardening dick without a hint of coyness.

"Thinking about being inside you."

"You think too much." She lifts her leg and motions to her black wedges. "More stripping. Less thinking."

I nod. "Yes, Mistress."

"No Mistress shit."

"You sure?" I drop to my knees to peel her shoes from her feet. The right. Then the left.

They're so Emma.

Soft black suede with four inches of height.

She's not shy about wearing tall shoes.

She loves it when she towers over me.

I can't exactly complain.

These things make her legs look a million miles long.

Not that she needs them.

Right now—

Fuck, this is exactly where I need to be.

My fingers curl around her ankles. The right. Then the left.

Slowly, I peel her legs apart.

She climbs up the bed. Reaches for my hair and tugs come here.

I do.

I place myself between her legs.

Drag my lips up her calf, over her knee, up her inner thigh.

Over her panties.

She squirms as I pull the soft fabric aside.

I lick her up and down.

Once, for me.

To savor the taste of her.

Then for her.

Again.

And again.

And again.

I lick her softly.

Then faster.

Harder.

Right.

Left.

Up.

Down.

Zigzags.

Circles.

Higher.

And higher.

And higher.

She gasps. "Fuck, Hunter." Her fingers dig into my hair. "Don't stop."

I focus on the spot where she needs me most.

Start soft.

Then get harder.

Harder.

There—

Her breath hitches in her throat.

Her back arches.

Her hips buck.

I keep my pace until she's at the edge.

Her toes dig into the crimson comforter.

Her moans bounces around the room.

Her thighs hug my cheeks.

There.

I push her over the edge.

She groans my name as she comes.

I lick her through her orgasm.

Savor the way she gets wetter. Sweeter.

She's so fucking beautiful like this.

I could stay here forever.

I really could.

But Em has other plans.

She reaches for me with her free hand. "Fuck me."

I nod as I climb up her body.

She pushes her panties to her ankles.

I undo my belt.

She tugs her dress over her head.

Then the bra.

She stares up at me as she does away with my t-shirt. My jeans. My boxers.

We're naked together.

It's far from the first time.

But it's every bit as thrilling.

It's different now. Not a rush of novelty. Something deeper and purer.

An intimacy that goes all the way to my soul.

Fuck, I'm so cheesy now.

I'm a walking, talking cliché, spouting slogans about sobriety and love and connection.

But I don't care.

She wraps her arms around me as she spreads her legs.

I stare into her eyes.

Lower my body onto hers.

My tip strains against her.

Then it's one inch at a time.

Fuck, she feels good.

It's so fucking right, her skin against mine, nothing between us.

I thank the genius who invented the IUD.

Then I let my conscious thoughts fade.

I bury myself in Emma.

She pulls me closer.

I drive deeper.

We move together until she's groaning my name.

Then she flips over. Grabs her vibrator—the one I bought her for her birthday, the first birthday of hers we shared—off the bedside table.

She brings it to her clit as she arches her back to beckon me.

I bring my hands to her hips. Hold her in place as I drive into her.

She turns her head back to stare into my eyes.

Then she's kissing me.

And I'm kissing back.

And the world is a perfect blur of her groan and her lips and her soft, slick cunt.

Fuck, the way that toy buzzes—

She comes again and again.

I rock her through every orgasm.

Until I'm there.

And we're groaning together, breathing together, coming together.

I wait until I've spilled every drop, then I collapse behind her, pull her body into mine.

Take her sex toy.

Bring it to her clit.

Make her come again.

I make her come until she's dizzy.

After, we shower together.

She helps me soap and shampoo.

Runs her fingers over the lyrics above my hip.

Then over the sobriety chip on my other hip—the one that marked two years clean.

Fuck, it's still hard to believe.

I've been sober for two years. Almost three.

She's been mine for nearly as long.

It was weird, at first, when we announced our relationship to our friends.

Most of them knew. Or suspected.

A few got overly involved.

Asked about us constantly. Offered unnecessary advice. Generally failed to mind their own business.

At first, it annoyed me.

But the more it went on, the more it felt like love.

I've always had a family. But this is the first time I've really felt it.

Chase and I aren't best friends, but we're okay.

I know he's going to be there.

As long as I devote myself to sobriety, as long as I keep trying, he'll be there.

Everyone will.

I see it all the time now.

There's so much love in my life.

Just Emma would be enough.

But this—

Fuck.

"You're going off someplace again." Her words dissolve in the running water.

She looks so fucking delicious sopping wet.

I'm tempted to have her again.

But this first. "Thinking about how much I love you."

"You are not."

I nod am too.

She shakes her head are not.

I nod back. "Thinking about how lucky I am."

"Yeah?"

I nod. "Fucking my gorgeous boss."

She giggles. "That is lucky." She rises to her tiptoes to press her lips to me. "You should enjoy it while it lasts."

She took that assistant manager gig Ryan offered after our first Christmas together.

Now that she's done with school, she has the manager gig waiting.

She says it's only for now, while she builds plans for her boutique, but I'm not so sure.

She belongs at Inked Hearts.

It's brighter with her there.

The entire world is brighter with her there.

"What are you really thinking about?" She kisses me again.

"How I want to fuck you again."

Her eyes fill with surprise. "Uh-uh. I'm too sore."

"Yeah?"

She nods. "How is that a surprise?"

"Go on."

"You made this happen."

"How?"

"You know what you did."

"Tell me."

She shakes her head you're ridiculous. "I don't think I have any more orgasms in me after that." She pulls the curtain and reaches for a towel. "But I'm happy to watch if you want to put on a show."

"Yeah?" I raise a brow.

She nods hell yeah.

"Not sure I'm up for it yet."

"Tease."

I nod. "You love it."

"Maybe." Her lips curl into a smile.

"A lot."

She holds up her thumb and forefinger a little. "I'm going to get dressed. What do you want for dinner? I'm starved."

After two and a half years under her tutelage, I'm a better cook, but I'm far from skilled. "Let's order in."

"Something spicy, yeah?"

I nod. "You pick."

She steps out of the shower and wraps herself in a raspberry towel.

I turn the water off.

She moves to the sink. Runs a comb through her hair. Washes her face. Turns back to me with that look. That why are you staring at me like that look.

"Sorry, baby, I can't help it."

"But what?"

"You're so Emma." And I'm so scared to do this. But I want it too badly to back out. "Do me a favor?"

"Sure."

I reach for a towel. Wrap it around my hips.

She pouts. "You could do me a favor and lose that."

"I'll think about it."

She shakes her head. "Less thinking. More doing."

I chuckle. She's perfect. She really is. "Put on some music for me. In the office."

"Yeah, sure." She looks at me funny—why are you telling me where the speakers are—but she still moves into the hallway.

Then the office.

Her gasp echoes through the space.

Then a squeal.

"Hunter!" She rushes into the hallway.

I meet her there.

She holds up the tiny box.

Points to the key sitting on the white stuffing.

Her fingers wrap around my wrist. She pulls me into the office.

Sits on the new desk.

The clean white one.

Bare except for a single design—the one we share.

"You… you… you want me to move in?" Her eyes bore into mine. She's wearing this perfect mix of confidence and vulnerability.

It's pure Emma.

"More than anything," I say.

"Really?"

"Really."

She wraps her arms around me. "Of course." She pulls my body into hers. Looks up at me. Kisses me.

Fuck, she tastes good.

Like home.

Because she is.

That's what I've figured out.

I still get lost sometimes.

But then I find her.

And I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

She's my heart, my soul, my home.

She's everything.

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