Like a cat, he landed on all fours, straddling my body. His grinning face hovering over mine.

“Hi, beautiful.”

Oh, naked fisherman … how does it feel to carry my heart in your pocket? Its fate solely dependent on you?

“Handsome.” I matched his grin a second before he kissed me.

One leg at a time, he wedged himself between my legs and rested over me on his elbows. Our kiss so slow, almost lazy. Maybe it was the comfort in knowing it wasn’t our first, and it wouldn’t be our last.

“You smell edible.” He kissed my neck while inhaling deeply.

“They’re waiting on us,” I said with little to no true concern in my voice. I liked the naked fisherman universe too much to care about the mortals on planet Earth or the screened-in porch.

He took liberty with the deep exposed V of my shirt that I left unbuttoned to the top of my cleavage. Then he took more, unbuttoning the next two buttons.

“Fisher,” I whispered on a weak breath. His touch never failed to jolt my pulse out of rhythm, never failed to rob my brain of blood and sensible thoughts.

“What is it?” he whispered, a breath before sliding my bra down just enough to expose my nipple.

On a hitched breath, my back arched into his touch as he sucked it slowly, teasing it with his tongue and teeth.

“W-we …” I tried so hard to be the mature one, but it was a monumental struggle. “We … have to go to … dinner.”

“Yeah?” he said between kisses, working his way to my other breast.

“Yes …” I hissed when he trapped my nipple between his teeth and tugged it.

“Cock blocker.” He lifted his head and adjusted my bra back into place before buttoning those two buttons.

I giggled. “You can’t call me that. I want …” I bit my lips together before anymore words tumbled from my lips.

“You want what?” He grinned, dipping his face to my neck again. Biting and sucking it. “My cock?”

My fingers played in his hair as my drunk eyes drifted shut again. “Yes,” I whispered.

“Well, what are we going to do about that?” He continued his assault on my neck, and I felt certain my neck and face would be red from his scratchy face.

“Fisher …” I didn’t recognize that voice, but it was mine. It was me wrapping my legs around his waist, begging him for … well, his cock.

He chuckled, coming onto his arms to get off the bed, to get off of me.

My legs locked around his waist and my arms did the same around his neck.

Again, he laughed, standing with me wrapped around him. “I think you said dinner’s ready.”

“Fisher,” I whispered just before kissing his neck the way he had been kissing mine just seconds earlier. “I …”

Kiss.

“Want …”

Kiss. Bite. Long lick up to his ear.

“You.”