“Then maybe you have nothing to worry about. Here’s my suggestion.” A wicked grin spread on her friend’s lips. “I’d enjoy the hell out of that man every second I had him, because I’ve never seen you so happy and relaxed. Whatever that man is doing to you beats out a day in the spa anytime, and I gotta say, I’m green with envy.”
Julie couldn’t help a laugh. What Melody said was true. She’d never felt more blissfully relaxed or so deliciously exhausted. And it was also right that she just needed to enjoy Tommy and what he did to her…and not worry about what the future held.
Live in the moment.
For as long as it lasted.
…
All Tommy wanted to do was sink into the woman waiting for him at home.
It’d been like this all week. While he was away from Julie, all he thought about was walking through the door and being with her again. Having her in his arms. Making her come apart. Over and over. When he was with her, it was just more of the same.
He couldn’t get enough of the woman. She was an aphrodisiac that had gotten into his bloodstream, spreading quickly all over his body until he was consumed by need every single second.
Leave her? Not in a million years.
He strode through the training facility, intent on getting out, when Mike stopped him.
“The sparring session will be at eleven in the morning. I need you here by ten thirty. Got it?”
“Got it” again. Coach was dead serious. “Yep. Ten thirty.”
Mike came to stand beside him. “I’m extremely pleased with the way training has gone for the last two weeks, Tommy. I know you hadn’t been training as usual while you were gone, but you can’t tell it. You look just as good, if not better, than you did before you won the title. This is the fighter I believe in. This is the fighter I want to show up tomorrow, okay?”
The praise from his coach made Tommy’s chest swell with pride. He’d been determined to come in and prove he’d changed. And Mike had just let him know he’d seen it. “I’m not going to let you down, Mike. You’re giving me a second chance and I’m not going to fuck this one up. I’m not going to let anyone down ever again. This is where I want to be.”
“Hell, yeah.” Mike clapped him hard on the back. “Can’t wait for tomorrow.”
Twenty minutes later, he parked the car, jogged up the walkway, and entered the house.
“I’m home,” he called out.
And it felt damn good to be here. Then he realized what he’d said and froze.
Home.
When had he started considering Julie’s place his home?
Was this unfamiliar feeling of belonging the reason none of the apartments he’d looked at had felt right?
Why, whenever he walked through the door for the past week and taken Julie in his arms, it had?
His chest tightened. Yes, this was his home. And he didn’t think it had anything to do with the walls that surrounded him. It was simply Julie’s presence. She’d always been home to him. The only one he could always be himself around.
She walked into the living room from the kitchen and the dogs raced around her toward him. He gave both a quick ruffle on the head, then went to her. As he gathered her in his arms, she looped hers around his neck and smiled up at him.
“Have a good day?” she asked.
His chest tightened again from an emotion he was terrified to name, but he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Yes, and it just got better,” and taking her lips in a sweet, lingering kiss.
She stiffened against him for a second, and he didn’t blame her. This change in him had to be confusing. All he ever did was jump her bones and ravish her. But this…this tender, loving kiss was how Julie was supposed to be kissed.
Like she was treasured.
And he did treasure her.
Bending, he hoisted her up into his arms, keeping his lips firmly on hers, teasing the inside of her mouth with his tongue. When he reached his bed, he laid her on the mattress, knowing he would take his time exploring every part of her.
Leaning down, he started on the top button of her blouse. With each one he undid, he placed a light kiss on her skin. Her chest jumped on stuttered exhales, but she didn’t move away, allowed him to do as he wished. As he parted the shirt, he sat down on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers over her belly, then grazed the tip of one breast until the nipple strained against the pale purple satin of her bra. Then he met her eyes.
At the tender way she gazed down at him, his chest felt like a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound fighter was lying across it. God, he was such a fucking fool. She had everything every other woman he’d been with had lacked—laughter, joy, and home, all wrapped into one.
She was perfect. So fucking perfect.