Page 177 of I Choose You

One of many.

We didn’t bother getting dressed, wearing the towels in the kitchen where we finished off that mint chocolate chip ice cream for a late snack.

I paused, shivering at the chill, and peered at him. “So that day. When I brought this over.”

“Yeah?” He stared at the slow lick I gave my spoon. I grinned. It was too damn much fun teasing him, and I loved to do it when I knew he’d return the favor.

“What do guys like when they’re not having a good day? If not ice cream.”

He pointed at my spoon. “That.”

I licked the tip.

“Yeah. That.” He stood and dropped his towel, naked in the kitchen.

“Already?” I laughed and shook my head.

“Are you ready?”

With him? I’d be ready for anything.

“For?” I asked playfully, eyeing his dick that was getting harder as I stared. Tension built as I ached for him again.

“The hot tub.” He smirked at me. “To warm up after the ice cream.”

Ooooh. That did sound good. And I bet it would get me tired enough to sleep after the adrenaline of the whole day.

I stood and reached for my towel but paused.

So many windows. His house was enormous, and all this space made it seem like I was just so exposed, although it was only the two of us.

“I can get you something,” he hurried to say.

Nah. I reached for the knot I’d tied and loosened it, letting the towel fall to the floor like his had.

His smile softened as he stalked up to me. My skin tingled from the contact of his bare body flush with mine. When he kissed me slow and deep, I felt the love behind it.

“You are the bravest woman I know.”

It wouldn’t be an overnight solution. I’d always have moments that could creep up on me. Insecurities would resurface.

“The most resilient badass.”

I sighed into his kiss. “Because of you. Because you inspire me to be better and try harder.”

He picked me up and carried me to the hot tub.

“That’s what you to do me,” he argued. “You make me want to be the best man I can be.”

“You already are.”

We cuddled, sliding into the heat of the hot tub and embracing the heat.

“My goal, my mission,” he promised with a kiss on my temple, “is to make you smile, laugh, and love yourself the same way I love you.”

“You’re ambitious,” I teased.

“I don’t care.” He stroked his fingers up around my tattoos, both caressing me and admiring the artwork. “You’ll always come first, Brooke.”