I throw on his t-shirt and he grabs his pants and we make our way out to the kitchen. Our bags are still in the truck, but I’m not about to ask him to go out there to get them now. He tosses a note from the basket on the table and grabs two muffins. I’m standing in front of the fridge perusing its contents when he comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my body and kissing my neck. I reach my hand to the back of his neck to keep him there, taking pleasure in the feel of his lips.

Picking up his head, he rests his chin on my shoulder, and I’m suddenly struck by the thought of living happily ever after here with him. “I still can’t believe you own this house,” I say to him.

“I rent it out most of the year,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.

I grab some eggs out of the fridge, along with the milk. Looking through the cupboards, Grant opens one up and hands me the frying the pan.

“Sit. It’s time I cater to you a little,” I tell him and he hops up on the counter. His chest is chiseled and his muscles, bulging, but when his arms are around me, I’ve never felt safer.

“Whatcha making?” he asks in a childish voice. He reaches out to grab at me, but I laugh and sidestep his attempts.

“If you can keep those hands to yourself for a few minutes, I’ll make you an omelet.”

“You usually like it when I have my hands on you,” he says with a smirk, getting a hold of his shirt that I’m wearing and yanking me back. When I fall between his legs, his lips smash into mine, sending a surge of heat from my head to my toes.

“Okay, no more until I finish,” I joke, waving my finger at him. I put the frying pan down and turn on the burner. The butter sizzles in the pan as I crack the eggs in the bowl. I poke the yolks and start beating them, adding in some milk.

“Man…I like this view,” he says, leaning back on his hands.

“What view?” I ask, walking to the fridge and opening it. I look around inside and, seeing that there aren’t any vegetables in the drawers, I grab some cheese which will have to do.

“You…cooking in my kitchen while wearing my shirt,” he says, smiling over to me.

“I have to admit, I like cooking for you. I’m not usually happy being so…domesticated,” I tease, pouring the eggs into the pan. I start to search the drawers for a spatula but can’t seem to find one.

“Uh hum.” Grant smirks, holding the handle of the drawer that is currently between his legs. I walk over, attempting to conceal my grin. Putting my hand on the knob, I start to pull the drawer open. “Are you sure that’s the handle you’re looking for?” he teases and I playfully roll my eyes.

“Well, it’s smaller than I’m used to,” I say and shrug my shoulders. I pull on the drawer, but Grant shuts it with his legs. “Um, the eggs are going to burn,” I inform him.

“You have to give me something to get it,” he says, leaning forward with his lips puckered out. I get on my tiptoes and kiss him. “Here you go.” He opens the drawer for me and hands me the spatula.

“You’re trouble,” I kid and he chuckles. I go back over to the stovetop and run the spatula along the inside of the pan, add my cheese, and then flip it all over before placing it on the plate that Grant has gotten out for me. Turning off the burner, I walk toward him, resting between his legs. I take a forkful and place it in front of his face. His mouth opens and I’m watching him so intently that I don’t notice he has a bite resting in front of me.

“Baby,” he says, and I place my mouth around the fork. He studies me as I take the bite off and then lick my lips. “Hot,” he murmurs.

We go back and forth, feeding each other until a string of cheese hangs from his mouth down to his bare chest and I lean forward, taking it into my mouth. I make my way up to his chin, wrapping the string of cheese around my tongue. After swallowing the cheese, I let my lips brush against his and he reaches behind me, grabbing my ass. I hold onto his neck and he pulls me up onto his lap with one firm tug. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his body and his hardness presses against me. He pulls me close, kissing my neck and moving to my ear. “I love you in my shirt, in my kitchen, feeding me,” he faintly speaks before sucking my earlobe into his mouth. A small moan escapes me and he pulls slightly away, “and moaning. I love you in my shirt, in my kitchen, feeding me, and moaning as I touch you. No night will ever compare,” he says.

“Well, then let’s up the ante, shall we?” I squeeze my hands between us, attempting to unbutton his pants.

Before I can get them unzipped, he wraps his arm around my waist and scoots us off the counter, holding me in place. He walks us over to the kitchen table, placing me on the edge. I give his pants a little push with my heels and they fall to the ground around his ankles.

I grab the hem of my shirt to take it off, but he places his large hand on my smaller one. “No, keep it on,” he requests and I nod my head, bringing him down to me. Gently, he pushes me down on the table and his hand runs down from the side of my face, between my breasts, across my stomach, until he finally reaches my sex. His finger skims along my hip and rests just outside my underwear line before he slips two fingers under them, teasing me.

My breath hitches and based on the smirk on his face, he’s enjoying my reactions. He slides my panties over and goose bumps hit me in waves across my body. The anticipation of him touching me becomes unbearable so I reach for him, but he grabs my hand and places it on the table. “This is all about you, baby, no touching. I’m hard just from pleasing you.”

“Please, Grant,” I whimper and he slowly inserts one finger into me.

“I love it that you’re always ready for me,” he says and I moan when he adds another finger.

His intense blue eyes bore into every part of me. I feel like he’s showing me everything inside of him. There’s sorrow, fear, but most of all love, filling them and making my heart yearn for him even more. I know it’s over…he’s the one for me. No one will ever come close in comparison.

His penetration jolts me out of the moment of extreme intensity and I instantly clench around him, absorbing the feeling of him inside me. He brings me to the edge of the table and I wrap my arms around his neck. He moves gently at first, easing his way into me, but quickly turns frantic. Thrusting into me and swearing, he tells me how good I feel and that he can’t get enough.

“God, I love your cock,” I say with a moan, securing my legs around his torso.

The ecstasy has gotten the better of us and there’s no way we’ll be able to slow the pace this time around. I start bucking my hips and he pushes into me, matching my speed. My hands roam downward and he clenches his ass harder each time. Our mouths are wild and desperate with one another while our hands feverishly try to grab everywhere at once. The anticipation builds fast and intense until screams echo throughout the room when I find my orgasm and he follows me a few seconds later.

I lie on the table, unable to move. “I take back what I said. Nothing compares to you in my kitchen, cooking and feeding me, dressed in my t-shirt, and then lying on my table, exhausted from me fucking you,” he teases and I reach up, pulling him down to me. “God, I love you, Jessa,” he tells me.

“I love you.” I place my hand on his now stubbly face. “Now, take me to your bed,” I instruct him.

“Anytime,” he laughs and picks me up, walking into the bedroom.

Chapter 12

Grant

God, I’m hot…sweaty hot. Jessa’s naked body is wrapped around mine with the covers up to our necks. She must have gotten cold during the night. I grab her arm that’s draped over my stomach and quietly scoot away, gently placing her arm back onto the mattress. Luckily, she doesn’t budge.