June, 2017
Saturday, 7:17pm
We’re wet to the bone, teetering on tipsy feet and laughing as we reach the front door. Adam scoops me up and takes a wobbly step forward.
‘You don’t have to do this!’ I protest, though I’m secretly thrilled. ‘We don’t even live here!’
Adam grunts and digs determined fingers into his pocket until I hear his keys jangle. He fumbles with the lock and kicks the door open. ‘Well, it’s ours for the time being. And I want to. I want to do this right.’ He flashes me a dazzling smile as he carries me over the threshold. ‘Welcome home, Mrs Dawson.’
My heart feels so full it might explode. ‘You’re a sap,’ I tease, but I love that he’s doing this.
Inside, we trip about peeling off sopping clothes before tumbling into bed. His hot mouth on mine, those determined fingers finding all my spots, I’m devouring him while being devoured. It will never be enough.
Afterwards, still catching my breath, I murmur, ‘Shit. I hope the neighbours didn’t hear.’











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