“Adrian?”
“Hmmm?” I say and try pulling away my gaze from my man passing by the kitchen, carrying another box of my books. Shirtless. Muscles bunching and flexing and tattoos on display and miles and miles of glorious skin.
“Adrian!”
My head snaps to the side and I look at Charlie, who’s been trying to get my attention for God knows how long. She smirks.
Ugh. That child sees way too much. Knows too much for her age. There’s no hiding anything from her. “Yes, honey?”
“You’re drooling.” She bursts out in a giggle. She’s only twelve, but she behaves like a full-blown teenager. I love her to death.
“I’m doing no such thing!” I wipe my chin. My dry chin, making her laugh even harder. I fling my arm around her neck, pulling her close. “Devil child,” I grumble.
“Lovesick old man,” she counters, and we both laugh. “You were drooling with your eyes.”
I smack a kiss on the top of her head. “I can’t help it. Your uncle is a fine man. Besides, aren’t you too young to say things like that?” I ask, knowing it will drive her crazy.
“Puh-leeeeze.” She rolls her eyes.
“Charlie, Charlie, Charlie. Remind me to never get into an argument with you.”
“I will.” She hugs me back before wiggling out of my arms. She’s not too old for hugging, as long as it doesn’t go on for too long. “Are you going to help to unpack, or are you going to continue drooling over my uncle? Scarring poor little innocent me for life?”
I guffaw and it’s so loud, Manne pops his head into the kitchen. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” Charlie and I reply at the same time, and that makes us laugh even harder.
Manne shakes his head, crosses the floor, and throws his arms around us both, pulling us tight to his body. “You guys,” he says, voice thick with emotion.
“Ewww, sweaty,” Charlie says and wiggles out of his embrace. “I’ll go unpack the books.” She makes a beeline for the library—“we’re not having your books in the den, Adrian, or we won’t have room for a couch”—giving us a few minutes alone.
“Mmm, sweaty,” I say and press closer. I check the door, but the hallway outside the kitchen is empty, so I burrow my nose in Manne’s neck and inhale. Then I lick a broad strip up his throat and take his mouth in a searing kiss. His grip on me tightens and when I rock my hips into his, I can feel him hardening in his jeans.
“Stop that,” he mumbles, “or we’ll never be properly moved in.”
“I can’t help that you’re strutting around bare-chested, tempting me with your fine body.”
“I do not strut. It’s physically impossible to strut when carrying your book boxes. They weigh a ton.”
“You strut. And admit it, you flex a little extra when you pass by the kitchen because you know it gets me all hot and bothered.” I slide my hands down his back but stop right over the waistband of his pants.
“I do not,” he says and kisses me. I nip his tongue and suck it.
“Admit it.”
Footsteps echo in the stairwell and the sound of chattering voices wafts into the apartment. Our apartment.
“Admit it before we have company,” I whisper and rock my hips into his.
“Damn you, Adrian,” he hisses and kisses me again. His tongue is eager, his mouth demanding, his grip on me hard, and I curl my hands into fists on his back to stop myself from shoving them into his pants.
The footsteps enter our apartment.
“See! I told you they’d be making out like teenagers.” Linnea.
“I didn’t say you were wrong.” Susy.
Our sisters get along like a house on fire.
Reluctantly we pull apart. “We’d better continue,” I say.
Manne nods, leans close to my ear, and whispers. “The sooner we’re done, the sooner I can fuck you. I’m thinking we need to christen every surface in our new home.” He skims his hand over my ass cheek and follows it with a light slap before freeing himself from my embrace and starting to walk out of the kitchen. I stop him by grabbing a belt loop on his jeans.
“Bastard,” I grumble and plaster myself along his back, pushing my hard dick against his ass. “See what you did to me?”
He throws back his hands and lays them on my hips. “But you love me anyway,” he says, looking over his shoulder, eyes twinkling.
“I do.” I really really do; I fell head over heels in love with him in a stupidly short time, but I’d never admit that out loud to anyone. But he was pretty much the same and we’ve spent as much time together as we’ve been able these fifteen months we’ve been together.
“I love you, too,” he says.
I slink around him until we’re face to face and we kiss again. When we pull apart, I whisper in his ear, “If you’re a very good boy today, I’ll let you fuck me in my library. Wearing nothing but my favorite bowtie.”
With a final peck on his mouth, I leave a slack-jawed Manne staring after me as I saunter out of the kitchen.
I have a library to unpack.
THE END