The Family Gathering (Sullivan's Crossing #3)(18)

“Open it,” he said.

“Oh, Tom, you’re always so thoughtful,” she said, pulling the ribbon off. “Always thinking of others.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s me.”

She pulled off the top of the box and frowned. “What’s this?”

“You know what it is,” he said.

She pulled the item out. “A dead bolt?” she asked in confusion.

“For your bedroom door,” he said. “And I have a matching lock installed on my bedroom door.”

“I don’t think either of the boys will surprise us today,” she said with a laugh. “They’re both in school.” Cole had college classes and Trace was in high school.

“We’re not taking any chances.”

“They never open my bedroom door, Tom,” she said. “They’re scared to death they might see me in my underwear!”

“This is going to be different,” he said. “There will be no underwear. And they might hear noises and mistake it for you screaming in pain.” He grinned. “It won’t be pain.”

She put down the box and put her hands on his cheeks, kissing him soundly. His arms went around her to pull her closer, moving over her mouth with precision. He parted her lips with his, going deep, groaning as their tongues began to play. His hand slid down over her butt and pressed her close against him. The kiss went on and on, too long, really. He had to force himself to pull away. “Lola, quick—get me your toolbox.”

“You sure know how to woo a girl,” she said. She couldn’t help but giggle as she went to get the box. Having done a lot of her own repairs and renovating, she knew exactly what he’d need. By the time she got back he was already getting the lock out of the package. She immediately started handing him tools. First the screwdriver to remove the old doorknob, then the chisel and hammer to enlarge the opening in the jam. “I wish I’d gotten this done before the kissing,” he grumbled. “I gotta say, this is my first lock repair with a hard-on.”

“Just how long has it been?” she asked.

“Oh, about two minutes now,” he said.

“Not that!” she said with a laugh.

“You mean since I’ve had sex with a woman?” He wanted to clarify.

“Oh, my. Maybe we should talk about who else you might be having it with...”

He looked at her over his shoulder, lifting one eyebrow. “My left hand,” he said. “Believe me, you have nothing to be jealous of.”

“Tom,” she said in a scolding voice.

“It’s been such a long time,” he said, drilling in the screws.

She put down the toolbox where he could reach it and backed away from him. He grumbled a little bit at a stubborn screw but he made very fast work of the job. He closed the door, turned the lock and tested it, trying to open it. “Success!” he said.

But he turned and she wasn’t there.

“Lola?” he said.

She stepped into the doorway of her master bath wearing a sleek and satiny black robe. It took his breath away. “Whoa,” he said, running a hand over the top of his head.

Lola was so voluptuous. She wasn’t skinny or tiny. She was five-nine or so and full-figured. When they first started seeing each other she admitted she was self-conscious about her shape and considered herself overweight. Tom convinced her he loved her figure, loved her softness, loved that he could fall into her, fill his arms with her. She was full and rosy and smelled divine. He wanted to gobble her up from her dark, curly hair to her toes. “Holy God,” was all he could say. And he frantically began to tear off his clothes. At the last second, seeing her standing there in that lovely black robe, he left on his boxers. But before he’d gone to the hardware store to buy the privacy lock, he’d chosen them carefully. These were his best boxers.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he said. He lifted her chin to kiss her while his other hand untied her robe and let it fall open. “Oh my God,” he said.

She rolled her shoulders back and the robe slid easily from her shoulders. And there she was, all pale flesh.

They’d been together for six months, and while they hadn’t been able to make love yet they’d done a lot of touching and talking. They were prepared in every way except one—they hadn’t lain down together without clothes.

“Why do you have these?” she said, giving the elastic of his boxers a snap.

“Why bother taking them off?” he said, pulling her against him. “I’m going to blast right through them.”

She pulled on his hand and they found the bed, lying down side by side, rolling together, holding on to each other, kissing like teenagers, their hands roving over each other’s bodies. Lola sighed, Tom moaned, lips were moving. He kissed her shoulders, her breasts, her belly. She stroked his butt, his thighs, and she managed to get rid of those boxers. Then he was on top, spreading her legs with a knee, moving closer and closer. He pushed forward and smiled against her lips. “I could embarrass myself here,” he said. “I’m wound a little tight.”

She shook her head. “Let’s not worry about making it perfect, okay? We’ve had to wait so long.”

“I know people who waited longer,” he said.

“But we’re forty,” she reminded him. “And we’re getting older by the minute...”