“Almost eleven.”
Her hand flies to her mouth. “Nate! Why did you let me sleep so late?”
I shrug. “You had an eventful night, corazón. Plus, it’s Sunday. We have nowhere to be except right here.”
She murmurs contentedly and wraps her arms around my neck. “We can stay right here all day?”
I pull her closer. “We can.” I think back to the text message I found from my father when I woke up. “But if you want to go out later, my dad invited us for dinner. Well, technically brunch and dinner, but I already said no to brunch because I have no desire to leave this bed for at least another hour.”
She buries her face against my chest and purrs like a kitten. “An hour, huh?”
“Not for that, corazón.” I glide a hand over her ass, and I’m relieved when she doesn’t flinch.
“Shame.” She giggles, snuggling closer.
I’m surprised at how much I enjoy doing nothing more than lie in bed with her in my arms. Sundays, when we get to sleep as late as we want and only do what we want, have become my favorite day of the week. “My insatiable little spitfire.”
She hums like she’s thinking. “If we can’t have sex, can we have pancakes?”
“I’ll make you pancakes, corazón.”
“And can we go to your dad’s for dinner too?”
It’s become clear in recent weeks how much Mel loves spending time with my family, and they’re obviously smitten with her too. Seeing Dad’s smile reach his eyes the way it used to when my mom was alive is something I never thought I’d see again. “Yes, we can go for dinner.” How could I ever deny her a chance to spend time with my dad and brothers, or them with her? Not only has Mel made my life richer, she’s brought a happiness to the James family that I was beginning to think would elude us forever.
Mel climbs into my car, and I don’t miss her wince when she flops down onto the seat with a thud.
I scramble in after her. “Fuck, Mel. Are you in pain?”
She shakes her head. “I just sat down a little harder than I intended.”
I pull her into my lap and ignore her feeble squawk of protest. “You have to let me know if I’m ever hurting you.”
Her green eyes soften, and her face lights up with a sweet smile. “I would tell you if it was something I couldn’t handle. I promise you that I loved every single thing about last night. But the spanking and the …” She blushes. “Well, they were both firsts, so my ass is a little tender. That’s all.”
I search her face for any sign that she’s uncomfortable now, but she seems to be telling the truth. “I find it hard to hold back with you. Last night was incredible, and I want to do it again, but if you’re in pain—”
“I’m not in pain, Nate. Stop worrying about me. You seriously think last night wasn’t incredible for me?” She presses her lips to my ear, and her warm breath dusts over my neck. “I came pretty hard.”
A growl rumbles in my throat. “Yes, you fucking did.”
She shoots me a saucy smile. “Exactly. So stop worrying.” I reposition her so she’s straddling me, and I can’t help but smile at the way she shivers when I run my nose along her jawline. “How long until we get to your dad’s house?” she breathes.
“Forty minutes.”
She rolls her hips over me, making my cock stiffen. “Such a long time to sit in this car doing nothing.”
I press a brief kiss at the base of her throat. “Actually, I have the perfect thing to keep you occupied for the next forty minutes.”
A seductive smile curves her lips, and she tips her head back. With a groan, I press my lips to the creamy expanse of her throat and allow myself a moment to feast on what she so generously offers.
Chapter
Thirty-Six
NATHAN
Mel’s sweet-sounding laugh fills the car. “I’m telling you it’s right.”
Shaking my head, I stare down at the newspaper on my lap. “I’m almost certain the answer to thirteen down isn’t cockblocker, corazón.”
She trails her fingers over the two letters already filled in. “But it fits, see?” She laughs louder, and tears stream down her cheeks.
I can’t help but smile at her infectious joy. “If I’d known you were going to be this much trouble, I never would have asked for your help.”
Her laughter subsides, and she wipes the tears from her eyes. “Well, when you said you had the perfect way to spend forty minutes, I had no idea you meant completing the Sunday crossword.”
“I’ll have you know that the New York Times Crossword was an institution in our house.”
She places a hand over her heart. “Then I’m honored to be a part of it.”
Is she sassing me? I toss the paper onto the seat beside me and pull her into my arms. “So you agree that a crossword is the finest way to spend forty minutes on a Sunday afternoon?”
She presses her lips together and looks up, like she’s taking time to consider her answer. “No,” she eventually says.
“No?” I gasp, feigning indignation.
