sundress and slipped into her sandals. Since it was warm and sticky outside, she didn’t even bother reapplying her makeup. If Kal wanted a woman who was all dolled up, he’d have to choose a different one. She was just too damn hot to bother. She brushed through her hair and wound it up in a bun on top of her head, pulling it off her neck.
That was better.
She went into the kitchen and fixed herself a glass of ice water, then sorted through today’s mail. Fortunately, it was all junk mail, so she tossed it.
Any day where bills didn’t show up was a good mail day.
She heard a car door open and took a peek outside to see her son climbing into Becca and Tony’s car. She smiled as she caught sight of Oliver and Jeff gesturing madly to each other in the back seat as Tony pulled down the driveway.
Just as they left, she saw Kal’s truck pulling into the driveway. Her heart immediately started skipping.
She walked away from the window, shaking her head. Her reaction to him was utterly ridiculous. She was like an infatuated teenager whenever he was around.
“Get over yourself, Hannah.”
She went to the door and opened it. He was wearing shorts and a sleeveless tank.
“Hot?”
He grinned. “You sure are.”
She laughed. “Come on in.” She led him into the kitchen. “Something cold to drink? I have iced tea.”
“That sounds really good. Mowing the lawn nearly killed me today.”
“You poor thing.” She fixed him a glass of iced tea and handed it to him.
He took a couple of gulps, then sighed. “That’s what I needed. Thanks. Why is it this damn hot in October?”
She leaned against the counter and shrugged. “Because we live in Florida?”
He grumbled and took another sip of tea. “Whatever.” He looked around. “Where’s Oliver?”
“Soccer practice and out to dinner with Jeff.”
“Oh. And your mom?”
“Book club night, so she’s gone, too.”
“Huh. Okay. How was your day?”
“Productive. How was your day off?”
“I did some things. Mostly sweaty things.”
“Oh, really? I like sweaty things.”
He laid his glass on the counter and stalked over to her, slid his arm around her waist. “Is that right? What kinds of sweaty things?”
She laid her palm on his chest. “Not mowing-the-lawn kinds of sweaty things. More fun stuff.”
He pushed in against her chest. “I like fun stuff.”
She hadn’t wanted him to leave yesterday morning, wished she could have lounged around with him all day. But he’d needed sleep, and she had things of her own to do as well. Sometimes parenthood and responsibility had to take precedence over what she wanted.
But now? Now he was close to her, and the hungry way he looked at her told her all she needed to know. He wanted what she wanted, what they hadn’t had the time or the luxury for yesterday morning. She hadn’t had nearly enough alone time with him, and she craved his touch on her skin.
“How long will we be alone here?” he asked.
“Long enough.” She lifted his shirt and put her hands on his deliciously warm bare stomach, feeling his muscles clench under her hand. His mouth came down on hers, and she barely had time to take in a breath before his tongue searched for hers. The way he kissed her, the barely leashed passion in the way he grabbed the material at the back of her dress and tightened it in his fist, was the strongest aphrodisiac. She whimpered against his mouth and inched herself closer, needing to climb inside of him because she craved more of what he gave her.
“Hot in here,” he said. “Let’s go somewhere cooler.” He lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his hips while he carried her down the hall into her bedroom. He deposited her on the bed and climbed onto it, continuing his exploration of her mouth with his until she writhed against him, every part of her body aching with the desire to be touched.
And oh, did he deliver. His hands roamed her body like an explorer searching for a lost treasure, and she was the prize he was looking for. His fingers slid under her dress, teasing her thighs. She parted her legs, and when he cupped her sex, everything inside of her quivered in anticipation.
“This would be much better if we were naked.”
He lifted his head to stare down at her. “You in a hurry?”
“Kind of.”
“Are Oliver and your mom coming home soon?”
“No. But my lasagna might burn.”
“We could wait until after dinner.”
“Or,