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I pull out slowly, and she makes a sound of protest that goes straight to my dick. I grip her hips and gently flip her onto her stomach until she’s flat against the counter. Her back arches toward me, her wet pussy right there for the taking.

She shivers as I run a hand down her spine and over the curve of her ass. I line myself up again and push inside her in one slow, deep stroke.

Romy cries out. “Oh, fuck. Otis.”

“Good?”

She groans. “Don’t you dare stop to ask me that again.”

I brace her hips with both hands. This new angle lets me go deeper than before. Her back arches further, pressing her ass against me with every thrust, and I watch my dick disappear into her soaked pussy over and over. It’s the single most erotic thing I’ve ever witnessed.

“You feel incredible,” I tell her.

I lean over her, my chest pressing against her back, and reach around to find her clit. She’s still sensitive from before, and the second I touch her she jerks against me, her whole body shaking.

“Otis!” she cries out.

I circle her clit faster, matching the rhythm of my hips.

“I’m coming. I’m coming so fucking hard!”

She screams my name while her whole body shudders around me.

I grasp her hips hard enough that I’m worried I’ll leave marks as I pull her into one last thrust. Her pussy walls clench tightly around my cock, dragging me right over the edge with her. I bury myself deep, groaning her name into the back of her neck as I come hard.

“Wow,” she says after half a minute of us trying to catch our breath.

I ease back, then help Romy turn toward me before lifting her into my arms. Her head rests against my chest, her legs wrapped around my hips.

For the first time in years, I feel stupidly happy.

Chapter Eleven

Romy

I’ve been waking up in Otis’s arms for the past few mornings, and I can’t think of a better way to start my day.

Today, the bed is empty when I open my eyes, but the house isn’t quiet. Downstairs, Otis is busy in the kitchen.

I stretch, throw off the sheets, and hop into the shower.

“Good morning,” Otis says as I enter the kitchen fifteen minutes later.

He hands me a cup of coffee and pulls out a chair for me. “Sit.”

My eyes grow wide as I take in the entire scene. A freshly washed tablecloth covers the table, and he’s filled almost every inch with breakfast. A basket of toast sits beside a plate piled with muffins, along with fresh berries, juice, eggs, and enough food to feed us for the rest of the day.

“What’s all this?” I ask as I sit down.

“Breakfast, what else?”

“You must’ve gotten up at the crack of dawn,” I say.

He plants a soft kiss on my lips. “You’re worth it, Romy.”

My heart beats faster at his words. These past days have been like a dream. Somehow, Otis and I have gone from snarky back-and-forths to sleeping in the same bed every night.

And I love every part of it. I love waking up with his arms around me. I love finding his enormous boots by the door and hearing him tinker in the shed while I paint. It’s all become so normal that I almost forget what my life looked like only a few weeks ago.