Sinful Ever After (Sinful Serenade Book 5) - Crystal Kaswell Page 0,56

like a dream. Like it's too good to be true.

My gaze goes to my wedding band and the huge, three-stone engagement ring sitting atop it. It's not a dream.

He's mine.

Tom pushes off the wall. "You're gonna make me insecure at this rate."

"Is that right?"

He nods. "You better remind me that you prefer me over that cellphone."

I better. We're riding the elevator back to our hotel room. This email can wait.

We've been helping Kara and Drew all day. They've got a lot on their plate, what with her being pregnant, but he made his big gesture. They're both happy.

It's our turn to tend to each other.

Only my gaze refuses to leave my cellphone.

I can't keep this from Tom.

I can't delete it.

I have to do something, but I'm not sure what the right call is.

"Don't tell me it's more interesting than this." He slides his hands around my hips and pins me against the elevator wall.

Then his hips are against mine. His lips are on mine.

My eyelids press together as his tongue plunges into my mouth. My husband really is a hell of a kisser. It's hard to believe he avoided locking lips most of his life.

I'm so overwhelmed with need and affection I nearly drop my phone. My other hand goes to the back of his head, playing with his wavy dark blond hair.

I want to kiss Tom forever.

We're married. I get to kiss Tom forever.

He shifts his hips so I can feel his erection then he pulls back and stares into my eyes. "What's the verdict?"

"I think I need a little more evidence to be sure."

He cocks a brow and shakes his head like I'm as ridiculous as he is.

I am. His zest for life is contagious.

This time, he's faster, more aggressive. Hands on my hips, he pins me to the wall.

His crotch grinds against mine.

His hands slide under my t-shirt and go flat against my lower back.

He sucks on my bottom lip.

What the hell was I looking at on my phone? I can barely hold onto the damn thing at the moment.

Ding. The elevator slows to a stop. Our floor.

Tom breaks our kiss, but he stays pressed against me.

"What's a phone?" I mumble.

He smiles. "It's been miserable keeping my hands off you all day."

"You have a funny definition of 'keeping my hands off you'."

"Was being polite in front of Kara."

"That was your idea of polite?" I laugh. Making out with tongue without any over or under the clothes touching is probably Tom's idea of being polite in front of Kara.

My eyes meet his. Sure enough, there's nothing but playful sincerity in those mischievous green eyes of his.

He ignores the open elevator and the people standing outside it and slides his hands to my ass. "You're my wife."

I nod.

"This is my marital duty."

God, I love the sound of that. It's been a long day. I'm glad we could help Kara and Drew through the stress of an unexpected pregnancy—I'm still overwhelmed that I'm going to be an aunt in seven months. I can't imagine how scared she is that she's going to be a mom—but I've had enough of everything besides me and Tom.

I slide my phone into my purse. This is important, but it can wait until after. Sure, I joined Tom for the last week of his international tour, but that still leaves a solid three weeks to make up for.

Three weeks of kisses and hugs and orgasms we owe each other.

He takes my hand and pulls me into the hallway. We pass a group of twenty-something women in cocktail dresses and teetering heels.

A few months ago, I would have been jealous of their long legs and ample chests. Before we got together, I would have worried Tom would go home with one of them. By all accounts, he was the world's biggest manwhore.

But, right now, I'm utterly secure with my relationship. Tom has been with plenty of women, but he's never cared about any of them.

He's mine, and I'm his, and he's never shy about reminding everyone around us of those two facts.

The girls stare at Tom. Specifically, at the erection straining against his jeans. It takes longer than usual for anyone to recognize him.

My husband is usually quite the obliging celebrity, but today he hasn't got a hint of patience.

He pulls me closer. "What the fuck are you waiting for, kid?"

"Uh... aren't you Tom Steele?" one of the women asks.

He offers a polite smile. "Yeah. Nice to meet you. Write the label if you want an