We stumble into the house after a heavy make out session on her front porch. I shove her against the door, kissing her hard and soft.

Officially, we’ve been dating for four months.

Four months of getting to know each other better, of spending time as a family. When Bri graduated from high school, the boys and I were sitting right next to her.

Four months of blue balls and cold showers.

Bri and her girlfriends went on a weekend trip with one of her friends’ parents, and my boys are spending the night at Nolan’s.

“About damn time,” she rasps as my mouth caresses her neck.

She’s so right about that.

Her eyes are teasing.

Her smile is enrapturing.

Her voice light and sweet and sexy and everything that makes my body, my heart, come alive.

“What?” I ask, incredulously, a bit of laughter in my own voice.

“I said—” She takes two steps closer and places her hands on my chest, her bright green eyes looking up at me from under her long thick lashes. “About.” She kisses my chest, and my heart feels like it could explode straight from my chest. “Damn.” She kisses my neck, and it's a direct shot to somewhere much further south than my heart, but the feeling is the same. “Time,” she whispers into my ear, her tongue sneaking out to graze just below my ear.

“You're…” I start saying but my voice cracks like my boys’ going through puberty when her hand travels lower, confirming that I didn't need to ask her if she's sure but damn if I won't anyway.

“Yes?”

I clear my throat and lean back slightly, reaching down to grab her hand in mine to slow her movements. We've come too far to not be sure.

“Are you sure?”

“Andy, honey, are you?” She bites her lower lip then lifts on her tiptoes, kissing me lightly on the mouth.

“Am I?”

Hell, yes, I’m sure.

I’m so keyed up, I may explode at first contact.

She giggles, the sound so sugary I can almost taste it. “That seems to be the question, doesn't it?”

“Sweetheart, I'm always ready.”

“Always?”

I fight the urge to growl when I feel her fingertips graze over the front of my pants. She hooks a finger in my belt loop and pulls me even closer, so our bodies are flush against each other. “With you? Yes.”

“Good to know.”

“It is.” I swallow. Hard. Her hands are distracting me from just about everything. Every thought? Gone. It takes one touch from her and I forget my name. She's intoxicating and alluring and the most gorgeous woman I've ever met. The fact that she wants me is blowing my mind.

“No more waiting, Andy. You and me.”

“Just you and me.” I nod in confirmation.

So much of our time is spent with our kids, especially since Bri will be leaving for college soon. It’s been Christine and Bri alone together for a lot of years now. Until we came along, that is.

But we’re alone now.

I’ve never been a hesitant person before. If I’m being honest, I’ve always been the leap before you look type of guy, so this feeling is a little out of my element.

I’m looking, and she’s leaping.

But there’s so much more at stake here.

Bri.

Aidan and Reece.

Let’s not forget… our hearts.

And apparently, the fact that I grew a vagina recently.

She’s staring up at me, both hands lightly gripping my waist, and she’s practically begging for me to take her. To make her mine. And I’m sitting here wondering if it’s the right time like a scared little bitch.

I think on this for approximately point six more seconds before…

“Fuck it,” I growl and slam my lips onto hers with such force it causes her to stumble backward.

But I’m there to catch her.

Always.

I grip her ass and lift, and God bless her, she wraps her strong legs around me with the strength of a python.

I start moving, our lips never parting.

It’s not smooth.

It’s messy and a tad awkward, and anyone who tells you they can kiss while holding the woman they love while trying to maneuver through a house and not bump into anything is a liar. Because it’s hard — pun intended — but so worth it.

Once we eventually stumble our way into her bedroom, we fall in a heap onto the bed. The plush down comforter is soft under my back.

I grip the hem of her shirt and lift, pulling it off her body.

“Holy shit, you’re gorgeous,” I breathe out, taking in my fill of her.

Her shiny, dark hair falls over her shoulders, kissing the swell of her breasts still covered by her simple white bra. A few freckles cover her chest, something I’ll take my time counting when I’m not straining to be inside her.

I love that she’s playful and fun and is always up for an adventure.

I love even more that she wants that with me.

I reach around her back to unhook her bra and I feel her hand softly caress my cheek. I look up, ready to bawl like a baby and beg for mercy if she’s telling me to stop.

The look on her face has me pulling away just an inch. “What’s wrong?”

She slides the straps down each arm before unhooking her bra and removing it slowly.

“Umm, I need to tell you something before you… you know, lick or suck or whatever you were planning on doing there.” She points to her breasts, and my eyebrows shoot to my hairline at her nervousness.

“Okay?”

“This is embarrassing, and you’re gonna think I’m the vainest person on the planet but…” She looks down at her breasts and shrugs her shoulders.

I resist the urge to look down at her bare chest for what I think is a pretty damn commendable span of a few seconds before jack knifing up, spinning us around so she’s pressed to the mattress, and I kiss her hard.

“Just tell me. I swear I won’t. I couldn’t ever think that about you.”

“I have implants.” That is not what I was expecting at all.

“That’s it? That’s what you have to tell me?” She nods while still avoiding my eyes. “Christine, look at me. I’m not here to judge you. I don’t care. I love every inch of your body, whether it’s been touched up or natural. You’re still you.”

“You don’t, like, think I’m a slut or an egomaniac or anything? I just did it because I was tired of being even less than an A cup. No other reason than that.”

“A slut?” I guffaw. I fall over laughing, pressing my head into the pillow beside her head.

“It’s not funny, Andy! I’m serious!” She’s giggling to herself and pushing lightly on me.

When I finally have my laughter under control, I sit up, straddling her. I take her hands in mine and move them so they’re above her head, giving her a look that I hope she reads as “Don’t you dare move those hands or I’ll spank your sweet ass.”

My fingers make a trail from her wrists to her biceps, leaving goose bumps in their wake. I cover both breasts with the palms of my hands, my eyes never leaving hers.

“Beautiful,” I murmur before leaning down and pressing a kiss at the center of her chest and showering the rest of her with feather-light kisses.

“Perfect.”

Kiss.

“Mine.”

Kiss.

Suck.

Lick.

Bite.

I alternate between sucking and licking, giving both fair attention. Her nails are digging into my scalp. A muffled curse explodes from her lips, and I have to fight back the urge to laugh at the unexpectedness of it.

I knew being with Christine would be amazing, but I hadn’t taken into account how much fun it would be to learn all the things that make her tick. And I plan to take my time doing just that.

I lick and then bite softly, causing her to writhe beneath me, crying my name from her lips, her voice husky and sexy and addicting.

Making her come didn’t scratch the itch. Not a single bit. It’s like I rolled in a field of poison ivy, flaming the appetite my body had for hers. It tingles in awareness, wanting its turn, but I have other plans.

So does she, it seems.

Before I can comment anymore on how I could give two turkeys less if she has fake boobs, I’m naked. Not sure how it happened, but she’s right there with me and we’re both breathing heavy and she’s grabbing at anything she can of mine, and I’m touching anything I can reach of hers.

We’ve had months of foreplay.

Barely touching until I was divorced.

And now that I’ve had my first touch. My first taste. I’m glad we waited.

The anticipation only made this night that much greater.

Not to mention, the number of times I went home and had to take care of myself just from being in her presence. With any luck, my stamina will help us go on for hours.

My fingers make their way to her center, and I groan at the slickness I find. My earlier moments of hesitation are completely gone, and now I’m in the mood to take. I plunge two fingers into her and watch in fascination as her green eyes flash and her back arches, the back of her head digging into the pillow beneath her. I make quick movements, not letting up on my rhythm or strength. I can feel her pulse against the ends of my fingers, and I know she’s getting close again. I add my thumb of my other hand, pressing against the most sensitive part of her. She frantically grips the sheets above her as she twists and turns, alternating between gasping for air and screaming out curses that would make a sailor blush and calling my name.

When her body quakes and her hand comes to rest on my wrist, I let up, slowly pulling my fingers out.

I bring them up to my lips, sucking them into my mouth. Her eyes never leave my lips. There’s something incredibly sexy about a woman who’s completely comfortable with herself. She’s not lying in front of me trying to position herself to look like a model. She’s not hiding the fact that at one time she had someone put silicone into her body to make her feel a little better about the way she looked.

“So, I take it you don’t care that I have fake breasts?”

Her eyes are so bright they look like emeralds, her skin flushed a beautiful shade of pink.

I chuckle. “That would be a no.”

“Because you like ’em big?”

To that, I do laugh. “That would also be a no. I don’t care, Christine, because I love you. Every part of you. They aren’t fake. They’re still you.”

Her eyes widen at my words that so effortlessly slipped out, as if I’ve been saying them to her my entire life.

“What did you just say?”

Smiling, my teeth drag across my bottom lip. I can’t think of a better time to let her know how I feel than right now. I look into her eyes and hope she can see in them what I said is true.

“Did you…”

“Mean it? Hell yes. I love you,” I say again because now that the words came out, they’re pretty easy to say.

“I love you right back.”

I kiss her. Hard. Bruising. Because there’s no other response worthy.

When I move my head back, her eyes are twinkling. “You make me happier than I’ve ever been.”

The pride in hearing that swells inside my chest. “Damn glad to hear that. I don’t plan on that changing, either.”

“Never. Now. Are we gonna do something about that?” she asks teasingly, pointing at my straining erection.

“What did you have planned?”

“Do I get to run the show now?”

I twist, landing on the bed beside her and move my hands above me like I had positioned her earlier.

Rather than trying to look seductive or feigning innocence, she latches onto me like she does with anything in life.

Vigor.

Enthusiasm.

And a whole lot of…

“Holy shit!” I yell out, my hips bucking up into her mouth when I feel myself hit the back of her throat.

“Sorry, but damn. Couldn’t help myself.”

My pushiness doesn’t seem to affect her, though. She simply hums in response. Her head is bobbing up and down, her soft hair creating a curtain around her face.

I reach down and fist it, pulling it away so I can see her better.

Her hand is wrapped around me, twisting as her mouth continues to move, sucking at the tip.

I feel myself tighten, but no way am I ending our first time together this way.

“Woman, you need to let up. Now,” I growl.

She moves quickly, straddling me, using her hand to center me while sliding down ever so slowly.

We both groan. Neither of us moves for a few beats. I’m enjoying the feel of her wrapped around me, of me filling her up.

She wiggles around, causing me to push in deeper. Her head falls forward as her hands scrape along my chest.

“It’s so… oh my… it’s just so good,” she breathes out.

“Yeah,” I grunt.

If my brain felt connected to my body at the moment, I would probably be able to say something a hell of a lot more eloquent than just mono-symbolic grunts.

“I think… I need to move.”

“Yeah.”

O-for-two in the response category of the evening.

I decide, since my mouth isn’t working, I’m gonna have to rely on the physical to show her.

I grip her hips and twist, wanting to be able to look down at her. Needing to see her splayed out beneath me.

Her dark hair is a stark contrast to the white pillowcases, her emerald eyes sparkling with emotion. Her breasts bounce wildly. Her skin shiny with a sheen of sweat.

There’s nothing in this world that I could ever find more beautiful than her.

I lift one of her legs and place it on my shoulder as I continue to thrust into her, giving me a different angle. I can feel myself hit the spot so deep inside her it, almost brings stars to my eyes. I pull out slowly, pushing back in harder each time. With each thrust, I can feel us both getting closer.

“Oh! Oh, my gosh! Yessss!”

“Right there?”

“Mmm hmm. Yeah,” she rasps.

“You almost there, baby? I can feel you pushing against me.”

“So… oh yes. Now! I’m…”

And that’s all it takes.

I follow her right over the edge, resisting the urge to collapse right on top of her.

I land half on the bed next to her, half on top, twisting us slightly so I don’t slide out of her completely. I’m still pulsing through the last of my release when I feel her squeeze me twice.

Christine’s eyes are closed, a soft smile covering her face. She lifts her hand then unceremoniously drops it, like it’s simply too much work to keep it raised for any amount of time.

I know the feeling. Everything in me is used up. Spent.

And yet, I know if she were ready right now, I would start back up again in a heartbeat.

We both chuckle. When she cracks an eye open and she sees that I’m staring at her, she scrunches her face up adorably and covers it with her hands.

“Stop staring at me!”

“Why?”

“Because!”

“Your response is worthy of a second grader’s.”

She shakes her head and shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t take offense to that in the least. Have you heard some of Harper’s comebacks?”

“Touché. Want to get cleaned up?” I don’t know why I ask. Of course she wants to clean up. It can’t feel good to have that dripping out of you, but selfishly I have no desire to let her go.

“I do.”

“Your wish is my command.”

A laugh bursts out of her.

“That sounded as cheesy as I think it did, didn’t it?”

“Totally. But that’s okay. I love you anyway.”

I’ll never tire of hearing that.

I watch as she makes her way to the bathroom, doing a funny little waddle that cracks me up.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re leaking from me!” she squeals.

Well, crap. Now I’m just turned on again.

Or still.