“That’s so good, Alex.”

“I think so, too. I’m looking forward to having my stamina back.” He shifts his hips so I can feel him growing.

“I love your stamina.”

He skims my arms with his fingertips, unhooking my hands from around his waist so he can see my fingernails. “You have a good time with the girls?” It’s a French manicure except for my index fingers. Those are painted white with the Super MC logo nail stickers I had made for shits and giggles.

“We had fun like we always do.”

He kisses the back of my hand. “I like these.”

“I thought you might.”

Alex has a weird fixation with nice nails. He’s definitely mostly hard now.

“You get anything else done today?” He kisses the tip of every finger.

“My toes.”

“Oh yeah? Is that all? You were gone most of the day.” Alex bites my pinkie.

“Nope.”

“What else did you have done?”

I shrug. “Just the usual.”

“The usual?”

“You know, waxing, plucking, that kind of thing.”

“Does that mean you’re too sensitive?”

“Too sensitive for what?” I pretend like I don’t know what he’s talking about; obviously he means his dick, because it’s hard.

“What do you think?” Alex runs his hands down my sides, then reaches around and palms my ass, pulling me tighter against him.

“What about the pancakes?”

“They’ll stay warm in the oven.”

“Wanna go upstairs?”

“Not really.” Alex pulls my shirt over my head. He doesn’t bother to do any pre-bra-removal nuzzling; he flicks the clasp and bites his lip as the straps fall and my nipples appear.

He sighs and cups my boobs.

“You know what I’ve really missed?” Alex walks me backward until my butt hits the island. Then he lifts me by the waist and sets me on the counter.

“What’s that?”

“Being able to use both hands on you at the same time.”

He cups my boobs again and bows his head, pushing his face into my cleavage. “And my mouth.”

The stitches across the bridge of his nose came out two weeks ago, and the scar isn’t as bad as I expected it to be, thanks to the plastic surgeon. The scar fits in with the slight bump from his nose being broken more than once.

I run my hands through his hair and over his shoulders. The muscles in his back flex with my touch, and his deep groan vibrates through my body.

Ever since the accident, Alex has been understandably frustrated by the restrictions and limitations. His inability to take control of things has been a source of angst and irritation. I tried to do what I could to make it easier for him, but I don’t think I realized how much it impacted his sex drive until now. Because when he lifts his head, the look on his face is eerily similar to the one he wore when he fucked me against the lockers at the arena.

Or the time he fucked me against the wall when I lived, however briefly, in that apartment building. My beaver perks right up, getting nice and drooly in preparation for what I’m thinking is going to be a seriously kickass sex session on our kitchen island.

Alex threads his fingers through my hair and kisses along my throat and over my chin. He backs up enough so I can look him in the eyes, though he’s still holding my hair. His eyes roam my face. God, he looks intense. And totally in control. Oh, Christ, I think my man is back.

“Do you know what I want to do right now, baby?”

“Make sweet love to me?” I breathe, hoping the answer is no.

His lip curls up. It’s more a lecherous sneer than his cute, dimple-popping smile. He shakes his head.

“You don’t want to have sex?” I’m playing dumb again. My beaver is so excited. If she had legit teeth she’d be gnashing through my panties to get to his wood.

The head of his cock is poking out of the convenience flap of his boxer briefs. The lights above us highlight the fact that the tip is glistening.

“I wanna have sex.” He bites my chin. “Just not the sweet kind.” His lips touch mine again, soft and tender, so contrary to his tone and his words.

I pull out my phone sex operator voice and run my socked foot up the outside of his leg. “What kind of sex do you want to have, Alex?”

He trails kisses along the edge of my jaw to my ear and whispers, “The dirty kind.”

I shiver.

And then, because no matter what, Alex is still a polite Canadian man—even when he wants to have hot, dirty sex—he adds, “But only if that’s okay with you.”

I drag my nails down his chest and over the ridges of his abs. “Maybe you should tell me what kind of dirty things you want to do to me before I decide.”

Having been with Alex for a year, I can say with absolute certainty that sex with him is never boring or predictable. Sometimes he’s a gentle, sweet lover, and other times, like now, he’s good for an intense, hard fuck.

He kisses his way back up to my mouth and slips his tongue inside, stroking softly. At the same time, his grip on my hair tightens. He’s in quite the mood this afternoon. We haven’t had beaver-banging sex since before the accident. I’m looking forward to walking like I’ve been riding a horse.

Before I can deepen the kiss, Alex pulls back. Actually, he uses my hair to pull me back. “First, I’m gonna get you naked right here. You on board with that?”