Thank you for being a true fan! You are most definitely a true Frisky Beaver. Ellie will knit you a toque.
Actually, she’s kind of busy, and her knitting skills are questionable. So instead, here’s a bonus short story about Gavin and Ellie’s first New Year’s Eve together. This takes place during the events of Dr. Bad Boy.
And as always, a gentle reminder this is copyright material, all rights reserved. Enjoy!
New Years Eve
by Ainsley Booth & Sadie Haller
It’s criminal how good my fiancé looks in a tux.
Also criminal is the fact we’ve had to spend the last four hours in public, and me molesting him would be frowned on at a New Year’s Eve charity ball.
“Mr. Strong…” someone else says smoothly, emerging from the crowd. Another face, another hand to shake.
My cheeks hurt from smiling, but Gavin’s a natural. He stops and leans in, listening with his entire body as the…director…of some agency tells him about something important.
I’m usually better at these official things, but the last couple of days I’ve been distracted. Ever since we got back from B.C. and our first Christmas with Gavin’s family.
With his mother, a woman I’ve adored since my first social studies project on influential Canadian women.
With his father, who might just be the sweetest man on the planet—and who cooked dinner.
And with Gavin, who held me close through big family gatherings, who took me hiking and showed me where he wanted to get married come the summer—halfway up a mountain.
It was a crazy, wonderful holiday, and the entire time I was bursting to tell him a secret about his best friend, but it wasn’t my secret to share.
A baby secret, and that’s part of the distraction, too, because now my biological clock is ticking hard.
So really, how could I be expected to focus on yet another introduction when Gavin’s wearing a tux, and we’re so close to him taking it off. And once he does, our real celebration of the new year can begin.
“Now if you’ll excuse us…” he says, and it sounds like a request, but as he turns back to me, I see it as the dismissal it really is. His gaze burns into mine as he looks down at me. “Ready to go?”
I nod slowly. Most definitely.
He gestures subtly toward Lachlan, who disappears out the side door of the ballroom, then Gavin presses his hand into the small of my back and turns us.
Someone starts to get up from the table now in front of us, and Gavin calls out the guy’s name, interrupting the upward motion. The guy freezes, then sits as Gavin’s hand lands heavy on his shoulder.
“We didn’t get a chance to talk tonight,” my slick, politician man says as he keeps moving. He’s now pointing at the guy and grinning. “Next time, for sure. Give Beth a call.”
I hold my tongue until we’re at the cloak room and one of the security officers has our coats. “What happens when that guy calls Beth?” I whisper.
Gavin takes my lace and velvet stole and wraps it around me, pulling me close for a quick kiss. “He gets another runaround. I didn’t talk to him tonight for a reason.”
“You scare me,” I say with a little smile. “He totally thinks he’s getting access to you.”
“How about that.” He shrugs. “Game’s gotta be played sometimes.”
“I’m not. The better I get at playing it, the more I can get done that’s actually changing things for the better.”
That makes me beam, and he gives me another kiss, this one on the nose. I hear the camera click and force myself not to react, not to jerk away.
We’ve become experts at these public shows of affection. They’re never inappropriate, and people like them. I really struggle with being real, but also controlled—giving our country the glimpse they want into our relationship while always being…behaved. And the fact that people speculate all the time about just how unbehaved we probably are in private doesn’t help.
Like everyone else isn’t doing exactly the same thing under the cover of darkness.
Or maybe not exactly the same thing. I blush as I remember our last morning in Vancouver, when Gavin tied me to his bed.
“What are you thinking about?” he growls under his breath. “You just started blushing.”
“I’ll tell you in the car.” I sway against him. “Let’s go home and ring in the new year alone.”
Ellie has no idea how close I am to ripping off her fancy ball gown. It takes us ten minutes to cross the hotel lobby and get into the waiting town cars.
Thankfully, Lachlan’s driving us tonight, so as soon as we pull into traffic, I’m kissing her—a real kiss this time, a bruising claim. You’re mine. She makes a surrendering sound that fires me up inside. I push her wrap off her shoulders and kiss my way down her neck. She shivers as I press my teeth into the tendon there, then lower.
Screw it. She can wear turtlenecks for a few days. I suck the flesh into my mouth, tugging hard. As I mark her skin, my hands skim up her dress to the tight bodice.
I laced her into this. I know it’s snug. But I still work my fingers under the neckline that curves over her breasts, raising a line of goosebumps. Her cleavage is slight, my little Sprite, but she held her beautiful, small breasts together as I bound her into the dress. There’s enough space there for me to hook the fabric and tug it down.
Not to bare her fully. Just enough to scrape the heavy silk across her nipples. Enough to let her think I might wrench the dress open and present those high, round mouthfuls for Lachlan’s gaze.
They’re mine and mine alone now, at least until I’m out of office.
But she remembers another car ride where Lachlan watched in the rearview mirror, and her panting breath tells me that memory is still arousing.
Good. I want her wet for me.
Because as soon as we get home, I’m bending her over the nearest piece of furniture and filling her with come.
“Max called me before dinner started,” I tell her.
She twists her head, giving me a confused look. I don’t blame her. My best friend doesn’t usually come up during foreplay. Doesn’t ever, until tonight.
But he told me something that activated my deep, dark primal lizard brain.
I duck my head and lick along her collarbone. Lower, to that inviting swell of her tits against the top of the strapless dress.
I want her nipples in my mouth. I want to suck them so hard they bear my mark, too.
“Max?” she asks, her voice thick.
I glance out the window. Another block, then we’ll be home. I lift my fingers to her hair and carefully remove one of the bobby pins holding her hair up in an artful twist. “He has some surprising news.” I lean in and kiss the curve of her ear, lowering my voice. “Violet’s pregnant.”
“Oh!” She spins around so fast she almost bangs her cheek against mine.
I jerk my head out of the way and laugh. “I know, surprise.”
Her eyes are wide. “Yeah.”
The car slows and Lachlan clears his throat.
Ellie snatches the bobby pin from my hand and reaches for her purse, busying herself with tucking it away.
The car slides through the gates at 24 Sussex, stopping at the front door. I get out first and go around to Ellie’s side. She takes my arm and holds her wrap tight around herself as we hurry through the cold.
An RCMP guard lets us into the house, then I wave him off.
We have a conversation to finish.
She zooms ahead into the sitting room. She puts her purse down, and I stop behind her, setting my hands on her shoulders, signalling I want to help her with her wrap.
Most of the time, I’m a beer and pizza kind of guy. But on New Year’s Eve, there’s something magical about bringing my woman home and helping her out of her wrap, revealing her silk dress that plays up the golden red of her hair and the creaminess of her skin.
She’s a goddess, a princess, an ethereal fairy…in blue jeans or blue silk, she’s perfect. And I like spoiling her.
We stand there in the silence as I slide the rest of the bobby pins from her hair, letting her waves fall in a silky slide.
“I’m excited for them,” I tell her as I kiss her shoulder. As I trace the delicate muscles and bones there with my tongue, then add my teeth. Just a press. A little taste of my Sprite.
“It makes me think about making babies with you.”
I didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she let it go in a slight, breathy exhale. “Oh.”
“Am I rushing you?”
“No,” she whispers. “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”
My heart squeezes. “Since when?”
“A little while. But…”
I can only imagine what she’s going to say. But it’s too soon. But we need to wait for the wedding. She’s not wrong on the latter point. I don’t care about the former, but I’ll respect her wishes. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“It’s smart to wait until the wedding.”
“I know.” I sigh as I nuzzle into her neck. The sacrifices we make to avoid gossp and scandal.
“But I need to tell you something else.”
“Mmm.” I’m listening, but not really. I’m mostly thinking about the dirty talk I’m going to fill her ears with tonight. Me knocking her up. How good she’s going to look–
“Violet told me she was pregnant.”
Now I’m listening. I stop kissing her neck. “When?”
“Ahhh…” She shrugs out of my grasp and moves across the room, turning and giving me a curious look.
I curve one eyebrow up in a well, I’m waiting kind of look.
“A week. Or so.”
“You’ve known my best friend was going to be a father for more than a week and you didn’t tell me?”
I make a disappointed sound. I’m not really disappointed. I’m sure she had a good reason. But I like the way her chest rises and falls as I give her an even sterner look.
And I like the way she protests.
“I really don’t know what the big deal is,” she says breathlessly, backing away from me.
I tug at the knot of my tie, leaving it hanging loose around my neck as I prowl after her. “I don’t like secrets between us, Ellie.”
Her eyes flash and she nibbles on her lower lip. I don’t miss that her hands are slowly gathering her skirt, pinching the fabric up, up, up so it’s bunched in her fists.
Her chest rises and falls as she gives me an innocent look. “Yes?”
I shrug out of my tuxedo jacket and hang it over the corner of a chair, my gaze locked on her the entire time. “Don’t you think there should be some consequences for keeping the news about Max from me?”
Slowly, deliberately, she shakes her head from side to side.
My pulse thuds heavy and hot in my veins. “And why is that?”
“It wasn’t my secret to share,” she whispers, a smile curling at the corners of her mouth.
“I still want to spank you.”
The smile breaks across her face. “Then you better catch me.”
She spins around and darts into the hallway. I get to the bottom of the staircase when she’s halfway up it, and I follow two steps at a time. My fingers glance off her hip at the top of the stairs, but she kicks off her heels and I have to jump to miss them as they tumble past my feet.
“Playing dirty,” I growl, slowing to a walk as she flees to our bedroom.
Nowhere to escape in there.
I leap onto the bed a second before Gavin stalks in. He sees me, but he doesn’t acknowledge me.
Instead, he pulls his keys from his pocket and unlocks the vintage style padlock on the antique chest at the end of our bed.
Such an innocent looking piece of furniture. So carefully staged to look like that lock is purely decorative.
My heart speeds up as Gavin lifts the lid. He means to really play tonight and I can’t wait to see what he has in store.
He removes coils of black silk rope—the same rope he tied me up with that afternoon with Lachlan—and tosses it on the bed. The velcro cuffs come next. My pussy clenches with the memory of that day.
I know there will never be a repeat of that particular performance, and I wouldn’t want one, but I’m all for reliving it in a private, dirty way, just the two of us.
Gavin closes the chest and spins around to face me.
“Instead of spanking you, Sprite, I think your punishment should be something…different. I hope you aren’t too attached to that dress,” he says as he holds up a pair of safety scissors.
It is a nice dress, but I got it on sale and someone spilled wine on it earlier. And nothing tops the thrill of being cut out of it. Besides, I can always use the material to make some nice throw cushions or something. I give him an innocent look. “No, not overly attached, but maybe you could cut along a seam so it is somewhat salvageable?”
Gavin chuckles as he climbs onto the bed with me. “That can be arranged.”
I hold perfectly still as he slides the shears up from the bottom of my dress, tearing through the silk like a hot knife through butter.
The fabric falls away, leaving me in stockings and lingerie.
There’s a glint in his eye as he snips the sides of my panties, then tosses them to the floor.
“I think we’ll leave the garter belt and stockings for now,” he says as he manhandles me, rolling me to one side, then the other so he can toss the dress in the same direction as my destroyed panties. Then he picks up a cuff fastens it around my wrist. He walks around the bed, attaching cuffs to my ankles, and finally the other wrist.
He leans down and claims my lips in a long, slow, lingering kiss, then returns to the foot of the bed and picks up a coil of rope.
“Spread your legs as wide as you can.”
It’s fascinating to watch him work. There was so much more going on the last time he tied me up to this bed, and I didn’t pay much attention to the details.
The end of the rope goes through the ring on my ankle cuff and he slides it until the two ends are even.
He crosses the rope, then wraps it once around the post, pulling my leg a little further to the edge before moving to the head of the bed. He slips one end of the rope into the ring on my wrist cuff and then crosses both ends around the post at the head of the bed, pulling my arm up and out before tying it off.
He grabs another coil of rope and repeats the whole process on the other side, then shoots me a feral grin. “Let me know right away if you feel any tingling or numbness.”
I take a deep breath and nod. “Yes, Sir.”
I love this. We don’t get to do it nearly enough, and I’m glad he planned this for tonight.
He undresses quickly and joins me on the bed. “What did we learn about keeping secrets, Sprite?”
“I’m not sure. That they’re good fun?”
He laughs and kisses me again. “I’m glad I heard it from Max. Thank you. This time.”
“I know,” I whisper against his lips. “I would have told you if I thought…”
He nods. I don’t need to finish my sentence there.
Besides, we have dirtier things to get to. He moves back, running his hands down my body and over my quivering thighs.
“I’m in a bit of a quandary now,” he says as he tickles at my clit with a finger. “I want to devour this delectable pussy of yours, but I also want to feel your mouth around my cock, and I don’t know which should come first.”
Oh, that’s too easy. “For a world-class negotiator, you’re kind of missing the obvious solution. Soixante-neuf.” Sixty-nine, but I only need to give him the hint in one official language.
He groans. “I love it when you speak French to me. So sexy. And the perfect solution.“
He crawls up the bed and slips a roll pillow under my neck, then settles with his knees on either side of my head. “Open,” he says as he leans over me, one arm holding him up while he uses his other hand to guide his cock to my mouth.
I swirl my tongue around the tip, lapping at the drop of pre-come there, then lift my head a little to take more of him. I close my lips, sucking him into my mouth as I let my head sink back to the mattress.
He lowers his chest and then he’s there. His breath on my thigh, then between my legs. His lips on my clit, and then he’s sucking and licking and it feels so good. I’m so stretched out I can’t push up into him no matter how badly I want more. All I can do is lie here and take what he gives me. It’s freeing. I don’t even have to worry about pleasuring him, because he’s on top of that, too.
He cants his hips, the tip his cock sliding over my tongue. He pulls out a bit and I relax my throat muscles, opening for him, ready to take him deeper—all the way down.
His arms are hooked under my legs and he fucks me with his fingers as he licks and sucks my swollen flesh, nips at my clit, and laps up every drop of arousal sliding out of my body.
He knows exactly how to work me up. Where to go soft and when to flick the end of his tongue into a tiny whip.
It’s difficult to concentrate on the cock working its way in and out of my throat when there’s an orgasm bearing down on me like a runaway freight train, and he knows that too, because suddenly he’s gone, twisting around.
The view of his head between my legs is a surefire way to ramp me even closer to that dirty, delightful peak, and he knows it. Nice job with the pillow, I think just before his mouth is on me again.
This time the kiss is slower. More tongue, and fingers too, but less tease, more total consumption. Less spark and more burning embers.
A reprieve before he tosses more fuel on the fire.
It doesn’t take long.
“Wish I could knock you up tonight,” he growls as he nips at my inner thigh.
I cry out. Not because of the bite—bite me harder, Sir, I like it muchly. But those words.
“You ready for that, Ellie? You ready for me to come inside you and make a new life?”
From deep inside, I start to clench, and he slides two fingers into me, almost roughly. He strokes against my G-spot and I cry out again.
“Tell me you want my babies and I’ll give you my cock.”
“I…” I can’t breathe. I’m going to come all over his hand any second and talk is beyond me.
“I’ll give it to you so hard, Sprite. Just say the words.” His voice drops, silky now. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes!” I can get that out as the orgasm barrels through me, a freight train of need blasting through my core.
“Good girl,” he says as he pets me down from the climax before shifting himself into a kneeling position between my spread legs.
I gasp for air and give him a weak smile.
“One day, our baby is going to grow right here,” he says as he leans down and kisses my belly. My smile grows.
He kisses his way up my body, pausing at my breasts.
“And here is where our baby will nurse.”
My belly flutters at the tenderness in his voice.
He continues to pepper me with kisses until he reaches my mouth. He hovers above me, our lips nearly touching as he slides into me, filling me.
I’m still sensitive from the mind-shattering orgasm I just had, and I know it’s not going to take much to send me back over.
He thrusts harder when he realizes I’m so close, whispering that he’s going to fill me up, and it’s all I need to hear. I tumble again and he follows, surging hard into my body and holding himself deep as he comes.
Then he looks down at me, his eyes bright but hooded with lust, and he licks his lips. “One day, this is going to be for real, Ellie. And I can’t wait.”
I wake up the next morning to the howl of wind against the window and my cell phone vibrating on the bedside table.
It’s the first day of a new year. A holiday, not that such things always matter when it comes to my job.
The prime minister’s official itinerary for today has nothing on it. Private appointments, it says.
However, that doesn’t take into consideration the private briefings that need to happen on an almost daily basis. I grab my phone with one hand before rolling over. I scroll through my messages as I reach for the only person I want an appointment with today—my Sprite.
Lust roars to life inside me as I remember last night. We don’t want to rush anything, but the thought of her swelling with my child makes it very difficult to read the emails from my chief of staff.
Nothing is immediately pressing. I’ll need to have a military briefing at noon, but we’ve got five hours before I need to put clothes on.
And Ellie wants to have my babies.
Holy shit, I hadn’t anticipated how hot that would be. But she’s always taken me by surprise. I know better than to underestimate her.
The object of my thoughts stirs in the circle of my arms. “Morning,” she murmurs, burrowing closer. “Please tell me you’re just checking your email and you don’t need to get out of bed just yet.”
“I’m all yours until lunch.”
She smiles against my chest. Her eyes are still closed. “Happy New Year.”
“It’s going to be a good one.” A wedding. If we’re lucky, we’ll make that baby we both want. A start of a family. So not how I saw my life as prime minister unfolding, but now that I have her, it hurts me physically to imagine it any other way.
“You’re going to accomplish so much,” she whispers, pressing herself against me. She stretches her arms up and wraps them around my neck, finally blinking her eyes open as she gives me a loose, happy smile. “You already have, and it hasn’t even been a year yet.”
“I wasn’t thinking about legislative plans,” I growl. I roll her over so I’m on top. “I meant with you. And me. And a baby. Some rings and vows and a circus we’ll do our best to ignore.”
“Oh.” Her eyes go wide and her smile gets bigger. “I won’t notice any of it.”
She shakes her head slowly, her gaze glued on my face. “I’ll just see you waiting for me at the altar. And everything else will fade away.”
“I love you.”
“I know,” she says cheekily. “I think it’s because I’m easy.”
“I do like that.” My cock thickens against her belly. “But that’s not why I love you.”
“Really? Not even when I let you tie me up and feed me your big, hard—”
I cut her off with a kiss that shows her just how much I like that, but no, it’s not why I love her.
“And what about when I let you play with my butt?” she gasps as I rise above her and flip her over. She presents that absolutely fine ass, pressing it against me as she stretches her upper body out against the bed. Her flexibility…I like that a lot.
I spank her because we both like that, too. “That’s not why and you know it, Sprite.”
She moans as I squeeze her flesh, my palms itchy to spank her again and again. “Then why do you love me, Sir?”
I never tire of telling her this. “Because you’re everything to me. You fit against my jagged edges. You hold all the different parts of me together.”
She tries to twist beneath me. She turns her head and gives me a soft look even as I hold her down. “I love you, too.”
See? She gets me. I lift my hand and hold it high, giving her fair warning I’m about to lay my handprint on her ass.
She just bites her lip and wiggles her hips at me.
I wait until she releases her lower lip—biting down on that further would be awful—then I land my palm hard on the fleshiest part of her bottom.
She cries out, and I do it again. She rocks back, rolling her hips up. Practically begging me to take her like this, so I do. I grab lube from the bedside table first, then I stroke through her folds. She’s slippery and ready for me, but the lube’s not for her tight little pussy.
No, the lube is because she lets me play with her butt, as she so adorably put it.
I fist my erection, stroking myself against her pussy for a moment before entering her. She hisses at the stretch and I press in slowly. She takes all of me, but it takes a few pulsing thrusts before I’m buried in her, balls-deep.
She clenches her inner muscles around me at the quiet pop of the lid when I flip open the lube bottle.
“Do that again.” I groan as she tightens again, a pulling little flutter that makes me want to lunge into her over and over again, pump harder and faster until I spill my seed inside her. I make myself be patient. “That feels incredible.”
She does this cat-like roll, pressing her hips into me as she flattens out on the bed again, and that…God. That. Yes.
I quickly squeeze some lube between her cheeks and toss the bottle aside. My thumb knows exactly where to circle now to make her moan. My little Sprite, my dirty, gorgeous wife-to-be, loves to have her ass played with. I close my eyes and drive into her, fucking her cunt at the same time as I tease her ass. Thrust, circle, thrust, press. She’s eager, clenching around my thick digit as I invade her bottom.
I haven’t taken her there yet. We talk about it. Both of us get hot at the idea.
We talk about a lot of things. Me knocking her up. I drag in a long, slow breath as I think about her pussy taking all of my come last night.
God, that had been insanely hot.
But I want her ass, too.
I can’t think of a better way to ring in the new year. I hold myself deep inside her and use my free hand to nudge her legs wider. “Does that feel good?” I press two fingers against her hole and ease into her. She’s taken this before, but I know the stretch drives her crazy. “Do you want more?”
She groans. She’s trembling, and I don’t know if she’s going to come or tell me to stop.
I flex my cock and she whispers my name. I do it again and she cries out, then begs for more.
Orgasm it is, then. I fuck her slowly, with my fingers and my cock. She’s full and pushed right to the limit, pleasure edging out the pain as her brain scrambles to process the feelings.
No time for processing. More feelings. More pleasure. I ease my hand out of her, ready to test her with a third finger, but she twists her head around and stops me with a single, pleading look.
“Do it,” she whispers.
I hold her gaze as I ease out of her heat and position my cock at her rear entrance. Her eyes glaze over as I press into her, a slow, steady demand for her body to take me.
The urge to fuck into her, pin her down and rut like an animal, is almost overwhelming. She’s so tight there, squeezing me over and over again as I sink into her. It feels incredible. No, it feels…
“I love you,” I rasp, my voice rough. Like the base, needy urges have sapped my ability to speak, to think. I’m man, she’s woman, this is…elemental. Nothing else matters.
“Gavin…” Her lips stay parted after she breathes my name. She licks them, wet and ripe, and as I bottom out inside her, I fall forward, bracing my hands on either side of her head.
She licks my wrist next, then turns her face into the bed and pushes back against me.
Fucking fuck. I’m not strong enough to resist that soft press of her flesh, the tight squeeze inside. I drive into her, making her moan, and I swear under my breath.
She replies with the sweetest whisper. “So good. Gavin, yes.”
New holiday tradition. We do whatever makes her say Gavin, yes in that breathy, adoring tone. This, for example. I might just make a new national holiday just so we can do it again.
“Oh, oh, oh…” Her cries escalate and she presses up on her knees, trying to chase me back as I slide a few inches out of her.
I thrust in, and she screams.
Maybe we don’t need a holiday.
Maybe my Sprite likes this.
“Gavin, yes. God. Love. Oh, yes. There…”
Maybe she loves it. I let the wave of lust take over, let my hips do what they will as my weight pushes her down before I press up again. I’m the wave now, fucking her relentlessly into the bed as she hangs on tight to the pillow in front of her.
I kiss the back of her neck. She smells salty-sweet, like sleep and woman and sex. I love you so fucking much, Sprite, but it’s just a thought, because words are gone.
I’m a machine now. Hers. One purpose, her pleasure. I’m going to make her come and then I’ll get to lose myself.
Make her scream and then I can thunder my own guttural words as I spill my seed inside her.
Wait, wait, wait, my brain stutters as my balls draw tight. She’s shaking beneath me, her breath shallow and fast. I jack my knees wide, holding myself like a tripod as I reach my hand around the front of her body, snaking it between her and the bed to find her clit.
With her next grind down against the mattress, she tips over the edge and howls as a climax rips through her.
My own release tears right after her, like a predator hunting its prey.
I bury my face in the soft, sweet skin of her back.
When Gavin shifts his weight off me, I miss it so keenly it almost hurts. But he returns shortly, pressing a damp washcloth between my legs.
Then he kisses my shoulder, my spine, all the way down to the curve of my butt.
I’ve never felt more adored—or more exposed.
“What did we just do?” I whisper, my cheeks flaming.
“Something that was a lot of fun,” he says with a rumble of laughter as he stretches out beside me.
I turn my face and look at him. At those glittering eyes and that beautiful smile. “Definitely that.”
But it was more than just fun. Just when I think we’re as close as two people can get, he finds a way to get even deeper into my soul.
Right now, though, he’s not worried about anything existential. He hauls me on top of him, wrapping his arms around my naked body. “We should get up and make some breakfast.”
My stomach gurgles on command.
I slide out of bed and grab his tuxedo shirt off the chair on my way into the bathroom.
When I come out, he’s gone, and I can hear him whistling downstairs. I do up enough buttons to be covered in case an RCMP officer busts into the house for matters of national security, then I follow the sound of a very happy man.
I find him in the kitchen. He’s waiting for the coffee maker to finish hissing, and he’s reading emails on his phone again.
Like me, he pulled on something to be decent, just in case. Grey sweatpants. Good lord, be still my heart. My eyes gobble up the curve of his ass and the long, strong stretch of leg down to his bare feet.
The muscles in his back flex and ripple as he opens a cupboard and pulls down two mugs with one big hand.
The other is still typing a reply on his phone.
I clear my throat and he pauses half a beat, then turns around.
He gives me an amused smile that tells me I managed to startle him even though he suppressed the reaction.
“Important work?” I ask with a smile.
“Not as important as you.” He puts the phone down and pulls me close. I get lost in the bright blue of his eyes as he lowers his head, and his lips—light and sweet—almost surprise me as he presses against my mouth. “Not today.”
Part of the deal of loving Gavin means that some days—most days—that’s not the answer. I’m more than okay with that, but I love that he goes out of his way to put me first when he can.
And he puts me first where it matters. He’s always got me in his heart, even if his mind and body need to be elsewhere.
I soften into his embrace, savouring the sweetness of his kiss. When we finally break apart, he puts his forehead on mine and just smiles at me.
Dirty sex is…incredible. But this? Nothing means more to me than this moment. His eyes on me, his hands on my hips, and that secret smile that wraps all the way around both of us.
“How about pancakes for breakfast?” I ask.
“You read my mind.” He kisses the end of my nose. “I’ll mix up the batter. You’re on frying pan duty.”
That’s because he always rushes them, turns the heat up one notch too far so they brown on the bottom before they’re ready to be flipped.
Not about a lot of things, but pancakes for my man? I’ll make sure those are perfect every time.
I watch him put everything in a mixing bowl, and suddenly I can see a chair pushed against the counter. Little hands wanting to help. Flour everywhere.
But there’s so much laughter, too. It’s worth the mess and the extra time it takes.
Six months until our wedding.
Six months until we can start that family.
I can’t wait.
Gavin and Ellie’s wedding will take place during Full Mountie, book #3 in the Frisky Beavers series which will be released in March 2017. It’s available for pre-order on iBooks right now, and will be coming to the other retailers in the new year. Join our mailing list at www.friskybeavers.com to get a heads up when it comes out!