On the sixth read through of that one single page, my vision blurs as fat tears pour down my face. Closing the laptop, I push myself out of the chair before making my way toward our bedroom—because yeah… we have a bedroom together now. The fact still feels like a dream. When I was married to Aida, our love never felt like this. It was never electric or breathtaking. It was never needy touches in the middle of the day because we might die if we don’t get our hands on each other. It was never stolen kisses and nights spent under the stars talking about life.

The last half of our marriage was a joke. We barely even spoke to each other. Could barely stand the sight of one another. Didn’t sleep in the same bed. But for many years with her before that, it wasn’t terrible. But it was never this. I didn’t even know it could be like this until him.

And now everything makes sense. Why Aida and I never worked, and why we never could. Why the thought of dating when I first came to Lubbock was physically repulsive. Why my heart felt lost for years. Maybe Cash is onto something. Maybe our love really is kismet.

He’s still sleeping by the time I strip down and climb into bed. He’s in the middle, lying on his side, facing away from me. Coming up behind him, big spooning him, I press my lips against his heated skin. Kiss after gentle kiss. My hand rubs up and down his side as I mark my territory with my lips. He stirs but doesn’t wake. My lips pull into a grin when I realize he’s sleeping naked.

My hand dips around the front of him, wrapping around his erection and squeezing just right. He’s silky and solid in my palm, the weight of him making my mouth water and my cock stir. With the lightest of touches, I stroke him from base to tip, swiping my thumb over his slit and smearing the pre-cum around. His hips subconsciously rock into my grip as he stirs some more.

A soft sigh leaves his mouth before he turns his face into the pillow, rubbing around. Once he’s more awake, he rolls onto his back, sleepy eyes peering up at me with an even sleepier smile on his face.

“G’morning,” he rasps.

“Good morning, Bambi. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” He ruts up into my hand again, a sexy moan sounding from him. “Did you finish the book?”

“I did…” My hand dips down to roll his balls in my palm, eliciting another groan.

Turning again, this time completely facing me, he reaches down and takes me in his hand, stroking me. My toes curl at the sensation of his rough yet soft hands. “And?”