Until the Last Breath - Page 51

“Don’t worry about me, okay?” I cup his face in my hands again, smiling. “You’re going to go to Vegas and kill it. Bring the money home and open up another restaurant so you can cook me even more meals.”

He breaks out in a laugh, pressing his forehead to mine.

“You’ll be on TV,” I add, smiling as I drop my hands.

“Yeah.” He sniffles.

“My sexy husband on TV. How cool is that?”

He chuckles, then brings his hands up to my face to cradle it. “I want you there more than anyone,” he murmurs.

“I wish I could be there, but it will be okay. I’ll watch.”

“I’m taking off the rest of this week,” he says. “I want to spend it with you before I go.” He presses against me, holding my shoulders. “I’ll only be gone for a few days for the competition. After that, I’m all yours again.” The way he’s saying it, I can tell he’s trying to reassure himself more than me.

He reels me in for a hug, nuzzling his nose in the crook of my neck as I wrap my arms around the back of his. “Tell me you won’t do anything crazy while I’m gone.”

My laugh falls out, playful. Light. “I won’t do anything too crazy.”

“Nothing crazy at all.” He leans back, kissing my forehead. “I want to come back to your beautiful smile. Your amazing personality. The perfect love we share.” He studies my face as if he’s never seen it up close like this before. I feel a surge of insecurity unfurl in my belly and instead of looking at him, I look over his shoulder at the shower. “You know I love you, right?” he asks, and his voice is deep and serious.

“Yeah.” I smile. “I know.”

He tips my chin with his forefinger. “I love you so much, Shannon. I don’t think you realize just how much.”

“I love you more, Johnny.”

His teeth sink into his bottom lip, those piercing blue eyes bolting with mine. The air stills around us, but something swims deeper within his eyes.

Desire.

Longing.

A hunger I haven’t seen in months.

He wedges his lower half between my legs again and bends down to kiss me. But this isn’t the usual peck on the lips he gives to me, or the gentle kiss he leaves me with when he’s going out for the day.

No, this time there is passion and power included. This kiss is deep and primal, and I love everything about it.

I tangle my fingers in his hair and he leans in, causing my back to press onto the cool mirror. My legs wrap around his waist and he thrusts his tongue between my lips, groaning as his erection rocks against me.

I cling to him, sighing and moaning and aching—wanting him badly, but knowing that he probably won’t give it all to me.

He continues rocking between my thighs, causing a friction that gets my body heated.

I reach for the hem of his shirt and tug it up. When I manage to pull it off, I study his solid body, the wisps of hair on his broad chest. His lips part to smile and I sit there breathless, studying my husband and all of his masculine glory.

My husband. My beautiful, breathtaking husband.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes. He hugs me, apologizing in my ear. “I’m sorry. I’m taking it too far.”

“No,” I whisper. “No, John. It’s okay. I want this. I need it.”

He watches my face, my eyes. I can see the uncertainty, his nerves trying to get the best of him, but I refuse to let him get too far in thought. Instead, I reel him back in, crushing his mouth with mine and locking my legs around his waist again.

He groans, cupping my ass, and this time, I don’t think he’ll stop. It’s been so long. Three months too long. He’s been so afraid to touch me, afraid of doing anything out of fear that he just might make things worse.

But we’re home now. Together. Safe.

He brings me to the edge of the counter, removing his pants and boxers and helping me out of my shorts and panties. He enters me, hard and deep, and I moan, digging my nails into the skin of his back.

He locks his fingers in my hair, thrusting recklessly, his eyes focused on mine. “Fucking love you,” he growls, leaning forward so his lips are on my ear. “God, I love you so much.” He kisses the crook of my neck, then sucks, clutching my ass and groaning.

Several seconds later and he stiffens and moans just as I do. I clench around him as he releases, and cry out his name. He shudders, letting out a throaty noise, releasing months of pent up frustration.

We breathe through the moment, and I’m smiling like a dazed idiot. He leans back to look at me. “You okay?” he breathes, holding my face in his hands.

Tags: Shanora Williams Romance
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