"James…" I grin then laugh. "I know what you're doing."

"And what's that, sweetheart?"

I rise up on my elbows and look over my shoulder at him. He's humoring me.

Every time I look at him, my heart does this stupid flip-skip thing that causes the organ to swell larger for him than the cage it's held in. We're an unlikely pair with him being thirty-plus years older than me, yet we couldn't seem more perfect for each other. It's been four years since we met, and I swear the man hasn’t aged. He's still rocking the salt and pepper hair with the matching beard, but now with more tattoos and a tad more muscle. The crow lines around his eyes have deepened in color too. I know people stare at us a little longer when we're in public together, but I don't care. He's mine and I wear him proudly.

"Come here," I say, waving two fingers at him.

James leans over me while still straddling me from behind. I cup the back of his head and pull him to me so I can feel his lips on mine. I kiss him once and his mouth opens, allowing me to slip my tongue inside and lay it against his. I give it a little sensual tug and lean into him as I do. James returns the kiss ten times better, then moves off me so he's on his back and I'm hovering over him. I hitch my leg up to rest on his inner thigh, my knee laying against his heavy sack. I scoot closer to him and peer into his glossy eyes, immediately desiring more when his thick thigh presses against my wet pussy. Sensing my arousal, James applies pressure.

"I love you," he whispers. His hand fists my hair and he studies me like I'm the eighth wonder of the world

"I love you more." I give him my usual response.

My heart beats wildly as an array of emotions fill me. Sometimes it scares me how much I love James. Occasionally I'll wake up in the middle of the night sweating, panicking in my sleep that I won't have enough time to love him.

"What's wrong?"

I shake my head. I don't want to tell him my thoughts, even though it's something I think about a lot. I love this man more than I love my own life, and I can't imagine a world without him. A world where I don't get to love him the way I want to. The way he needs to be loved.

"Nothing. I'm just really happy I get the man I love all to myself for the next few days. It’s just you and me, babe."

He's quiet for a moment. His fingers are brushing over my jaw and I lean into his hand. "I've been wanting to ask you something."

I smile into his palm. "Oh, yeah? What's that?"

"How would you feel if I sold my brownstone and we bought a house together? Say, in Bergan Beach?"