My eyes flick to the hard line in his shorts, then back to his face when he looks up at me. My heart feels like it’s thumping in my nethers, and it’s like the answer to my frustrated ramblings, so I gulp and say, “That makes complete sense.”

Landon’s gray eyes widen. “I’m not saying we do it.”

“Neither am I.”

“But maybe just help each other out…once a week until the wedding.”

“Once a month.”

“Once every two weeks.”

“A month.”

He hesitates, but I hold my ground. Any more than a month and I’ll be caving by week two. And then our love life will be stale like it was right before the bet.

No, not stale. Just…not as kapow!

“Reasonable,” he says.

“Harmless.”

“No rules broken?”

“Right.”

We stare at each other for exactly point five seconds before our bodies crash in the center of the room, fingers tearing and grappling at these stupid clothes. Our lips hit each other, miss each other, are practically all over each other, and he lets out a loud growl, snapping his hand around my jaw and holding me still.

Stroke one of his tongue makes me shiver.

Stroke two has my knees buckling.

Strokes three, four, five, and I’m moaning as Lady Liz tightens and heats and pulses. I rip his belt from his belt loops, wishing I could do it in one easy motion. But it gets stuck, and I jerk, and jerk, and jerk, till the damn thing pops loose.

“Bed. Now!” I scream at him in my new relationship sex voice. It’s back. I haven’t sounded like that in forever. He grins and hoists me by the middle, swinging me over his shoulder while giddy giggles rumble my lips. I almost sing “Here I Come to Chocolateville” out loud.

His zipper is the next thing to go once he flings me on the mattress. Lord Landon pops free, and I flick my eyes up to his face.

“How do you want it?”

“Huh?” he grunts. Better keep talking to a minimum—seems like his brain has already gone straight down.

“Um…” I point to my hand. “Or…” Then I gesture to my mouth. His eyes widen a bit and he lifts a shoulder.

“I—I don’t know. Whatever you want.”

“I’ll do whatever you want.”

He leans down, cups my face, and gently coaxes me to my back while his weight settles. I have missed this position.

“Well, I kinda want to do you first. Because if you go second, it’ll get me all riled up again, and we only get once, right?”

A whole bunch of reasons why once is totally ridiculous zip through my mind like they’re on a roller coaster. But I say, “Right.” If I give way too much, I’ll give in completely, and no tropical paradise sex for me.

He bends, kissing me sweetly on the lips. “Then what do you want?”

I breathe out as his mouth travels down the length of my neck. He kisses my cleavage, hands smoothing up the hem of my shirt.

“I…I don’t…Um, I don’t care.” I can’t even think. My legs are pressed together so tight I could crush a walnut.

His mouth leaves, but only to get my shirt off. My bra is in the same sweep. He usually spends time up top before going to my bottoms, but either he’s too impatient or he thinks I’ll suddenly change my mind—no way—because my yoga pants are off in the next second. When he has me completely naked, a relaxed smile hits his lips. He falls on top of me, making me squeak out an “oof!”

His hands hold tight to my shoulders before they roam down my sides, thumbs getting naughty with my breasts, and his lips press patterns all over my neck.

“I’ve missed your body,” he says.

“Really?” I ask, and he leans up, eyebrows slightly bunched in confusion. I get it. I’ve never questioned his attraction to me before. We tease and flirt and make fun of each other in bed. That’s us and it’s comfortable. But right now, after today, I’m wondering if he notices the extra pounds.

I sniff. My voice and nose have suddenly gone stuffy. “I…I couldn’t fit into my wedding dress.”

He hovers unmoving over me, and a small laugh seeps from my mouth as I watch him struggle with what to say.

“Sorry…I’m just trying to…” He kisses me, squeezes my hip. “You’re not fat.”

“Well, thanks.”

“I figured I was safe saying that.”

“They have to take the dress out…and it’s expensive. Like, out of the budget expensive.”

He takes in a breath, lets it out before planting kisses on the tops of my breasts. My skin puckers with goose bumps.

“I love this body,” he says, and his hands back up his words. He slithers down to kiss my stomach. I hold my breath out of instinct.

“Don’t suck in,” he playfully scolds, tickling my ribs. My stomach pops out as I laugh. “I love this.” He kisses right below my belly button. “And I love these.” He kisses my love handles, and I tap the top of his head because he so should not acknowledge their existence. But the way he caresses my stomach, lets his thumb tumble over the hills in my figure, makes me feel like the sexiest woman on the planet. Upped dress size and all.

I hitch a leg up, and he travels back to my lips. I push my tongue into his mouth, strip the rest of his clothes off, and tell him with my actions that I’ve missed his body too.

His hand pushes my thighs apart, and the pulsing down there kicks up a notch.

“I want my face to be near yours,” he says through a grin as he dips his hand into position. “So you’re getting my kick-ass, talented fingers.”

I roll my eyes before pushing a pillow over my face. He growls and rips it away. I fight back for it, but he starts working on my neglected lady bits and I forget about hiding my face and hop on the jet destined for Chocolateville and its neighboring town, Dessert Bay.

I’m fast. I’m so fast he doesn’t even get to do all his signature hand moves. But he kisses me, muffling my normally loud orgasm screams, so maybe I can get away with pretending that I didn’t just take a ride on the main attraction and run back in line. His fingers are still working their magic, and as I come down from the high, I use all my strength to pretend I’m still building. Yes, I’m totally cheating. No, I don’t care. I won’t stop him as long as he keeps doing what he’s doing.

Pretty soon I don’t have to pretend anymore. I really am building, back on that ride and going straight to the top. And I’m half thinking, hell yes! and half damn it! because it’s almost over. I won’t be able to stop the screams this time, since his mouth is buried in my neck and he’s doing his thing—the one he knows will get me in ten seconds flat. I cling to his shoulders, sliding a bit with all the sweat we’ve accumulated between us, and scream his name and other choice words as he takes me to Chocolateville and back. Again. But I’ll keep that to myself.

I lie on my back and try to even my breathing. He’s breathing hard too, and his hand is on mine, pulling me over to grasp him. But my limbs are gummy.

“Give me a second,” I say through an exhausted laugh.

“I’m gonna blow any minute.”

“That’s hot.”

He pushes his nose to my shoulder. “No teasing.”

“But that’s what we do.” I roll over and pretend to fall asleep.

“I was just sexy as hell!” he shouts to the ceiling.

I laugh, roll on top of him, and slide down his body to take him out of his misery.

“Tell me what you want,” I say before kissing where his boxer band would rest if he was wearing them.

“Less talking.”

I playfully bite him, and he jerks back for a second as we laugh. When he settles back in front of me, I grant his request, keeping my mouth too occupied to talk.

Chapter 21

We raisin-branned each other.

We are raisin bran.

Landon is out, snoring so loudly I’m surprised the neighbors haven’t banged on the walls. His butt is to me, my butt is to him, and I’m satisfied physically. I’m tired and gooey, and there’s a sleepy grin on my face.