On the first day, we’d left early to beat the traffic on I-65. The second day we were both awakened by two adorable little girls. And today . . . well, today is the best morning of all, because we are a tangle of gentle arms and soft blankets. We’re awake, but we haven’t said a thing. Our lips are just too busy. His are sliding down the column of my neck, and the soft moans coming from mine make actual words impossible. Our hands explore places they’ve never touched. Beneath shirts. Below waists. Innocent touches in not-so-innocent places, causing us to gasp with pleasure and whimper with need, leaving us shaking and breathless. And that’s with our clothes on. We smile goofily at each other before dissolving into quiet laughter. Brandon throws the blanket over our heads and smothers me with kisses. “Good morning.” “Epic understatement.” “And that’s with pajamas. Just imagine—” “That’s probably not a good idea.” “Hmm. Probably not.” Brandon gently brushes his nose against mine.
