Family Ties — читать онлайн бесплатно полностью

”

“I know, right? Boyfriends and girlfriends kissing! What’ll we think of next? Sex on the kitchen table, that’s what!”

“Be that way, Mr. Sarcastic.”

I squeezed her ass and pulled her against me.

Her crotch met the muscles of my abdomen, and she closed her eyes with a sigh.

“I’m sorry… you were saying?”

“Okay,” she said after, “you can set me down now.”

I glanced toward the stove. “Not for another… two minutes. Till then, you’re mine!”

She rolled her eyes and suffered another kiss. Or two. Minutes.

“Okay,” I said at last, “now I really do have to put you down.

“I’m sorry you had to do everything by yourself,” she said as I flipped the tuna.

“Nah, it’s okay.” I added the steamer insert to the pot of boiling water.

“More important for you to spend some quality time with Wren.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

I set the timer on the stove.

She squeaked when I put my hands under her arms and lifted her into the

air, but she locked her legs around me again. I caressed her ass through her jeans and felt her tense with pleasure.

“Three whole minutes?”

“Stop wasting time. Kiss me!”

We were still kissing when the timer went off. I reluctantly set her on her feet again.

“Want me to tell them dinner’s ready?” she asked.

“Not yet. I’m supposed to ‘rest’ the steaks, whatever that means. Let ’em cool off for five or ten minutes, I guess. Besides, the vegetables need more time too.” I grinned at her. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

I furrowed my brow. “No. Sex on the kitchen table.

“Not till we’re married.”

“Oh? So we’re playing that game again?” I nodded slowly. “I see.”

“Ah, right! I forgot.”

She rolled her eyes.

I grinned and leaned down to whisper, “Things are gonna happen long before we’re married. And that includes fucking you on the kitchen table.”

“That was really good,” Wren said when she folded her napkin. “Thank you, Paul.”

“You’re welcome. It was simple. And Betty Crocker really deserves the credit.”

“Betty Crocker is actually pretty good.

“I was going to ask you to get another bottle of wine,” she said with a laugh.

“Oh. Okay. I thought…”

“No, sweetheart,” she said earnestly, “I’ll never call you simple.

Hardheaded and obnoxious, maybe, but never simple.”

“In that case, lemme fetch another bottle of wine.” He returned a minute later and began pouring. “So, this is about the time when my scheming sweetheart gives me the sign to start a conversation.