“Well, I am a romantic at heart, and not everyone can have what you and I have, but we can at least help people to be somewhat happy. I think they’d really like each other.”
“You’re too much,” I tell her sincerely. “And I’m a romantic too. I left you some flowers on the couch.”
She laughs at me, eyes sparkling with love and appreciation not just from my efforts, but because I let her turn me around. I let Moira take me from my funk and annoyance, and I let her do what she does best.
Remind me what a lucky man I am.
Chapter 9
Moira
The alarm jolts me out of a sound, exhausted sleep and because I don’t want to wake Zach up, my arm slings out with the precision of a marching drill platoon and cleanly hits the off button.
Holding still, I listen in the dark to make sure Zach wasn’t disturbed. I hear nothing and start to peel the covers back so I can ease out of bed.
I’m stopped when Zach’s arm snakes around my stomach and hauls me back into his body. “Mornin’,” he says sleepily as he nuzzles into my neck. I can feel him start to grow hard against my ass.
I squirm in his hold and attempt to push out of his grasp. “Go back to sleep,” I whisper. “I know you’re exhausted, and I have to get the turkey ready.”
His hold merely tightens as he grinds into me. “I missed you.”
I go still, bring my arms up over his, and squeeze him back. “I missed you too.”
For a full five seconds, I let him cuddle me, because he’s been gone for the past three days on a business trip to New York and didn’t get in until long after I had fallen asleep last night. But then I start to pull out of his grasp. “But I’ve got so much stuff to do to get ready for today, so you go back to sleep and I’ll come wake you up later.”
His hold tightens even further, and I struggle between being annoyed and charmed. God, what I wouldn’t give to just lay here and snuggle in deep with my husband. I’ve missed him so much these past few days. Knowing he’s hard for me now makes me horny as all get out, but I also am feeling the stress of a massive Thanksgiving dinner that has to get done. I set my alarm for five AM, having precisely timed how long it would take me to prepare the turkey, stuff it, and get it in the oven before I moved on to the other multitude of things that needed to be done before we sat down to eat at two with our guests.
Zach suddenly releases me and I don’t let the reprieve slide, jetting out of the bed before I’m tempted to let my husband have his way with me. In the dark, I make my way carefully out of the room so he can get some more rest and silently pad like a stealthy ninja chef into the kitchen.
I had set most everything out last night, so I’d stick to my schedule. Squatting down, I reach into the back of a lower cupboard to pull out my roaster. As I rise, I’m startled by Zach’s hands going around my waist.
“Zach,” I say with my heart beating a million times a minute. “What are you doing? Go back to bed. I know you’re exhausted.”
“Not exhausted,” he says as he leans to the side to kiss my neck. “I’m horny.”
To emphasize the point, he presses his cock into my backside, pulling back on my hips so I get the full effect. Instantly, I’m horny again too.
But I’m also a pragmatist.
“Baby,” I say, trying to keep the moan out of my voice. “I love you, but I have a million and one things to do to get ready.”
“I’ll help you after I fuck you,” he says, leaning the other way to kiss the opposite side of my neck. One palm moves from hip to breast, where he squeezes gently.
“Mmmmm.” My head falls backward, and I make a weak attempt to pull away from him.
“I’ve been gone, missing my wife and kids, and haven’t had sex with you in four days,” Zach murmurs as his other hand slides across my lower stomach before diving down into my pajama bottoms. His fingers inch under the waistband of my panties and glide south with purpose.
He immediately hits my clit hard, and because I know my husband so well, that means he wants to hit me hard and fast. He’s fueled by desperation, and this is going to be a skin-slapping session. I know Cannon will sleep through any sounds, and if Jaime happens to wake up, she’s at least too young to understand and can’t get out of her crib yet, so we won’t get caught.
With that thought, and the knowledge my husband says he’ll help me cook, it means I’m all in.
My hand comes up, dives into my pajamas bottoms, and covers Zach’s own, urging him to go rougher on me.
“Yeah, baby,” he says encouragingly over my capitulation. “You want this, don’t you?”
“So much,” I pant as he rubs my wetness all around in tight circles.