In more ways than one.

I didn’t get to see Tor over the weekend because he had to work on Saturday and I promised his mother I’d help at the shelter bathing a few of the dogs. Yesterday he went riding with my father, which is something they do almost every Sunday when my dad is home. I stayed upstairs in my room even though I knew Tor was outside in our garage because I didn’t think I could see him without throwing my arms around him or making some kind of lust filled face at him that my father might notice. I watched them ride off together from the window seat in my bedroom, and seeing his long hair flying in the wind behind him and the tautness of the muscles in his arms as he gripped the handlebars brought back the delicious memories of those same arms enveloping me in his bed.

The dog and the kitten follow me around the house as I straighten things up, start his laundry, and run the vacuum over all the carpeted rooms, which will have tufts of white fur scattered about again in less than an hour. All the while my mind bounces like a ping pong ball with questions. Does he want to see me again? Does he regret sleeping with me now that he’s had a few days to think about it? Was I painfully awkward and inexperienced?

Just as I’m about to start on the apple pie, my cell phone beeps.

Tor: How’s my Angel?

That plunging elevator feeling overwhelms me once again just reading those three little words, typed by him. To me. And that one tiny word in the middle makes my heart soar like a wild bird.

My.

I’m his.

Me: Missing you xo

Tor: Are you at my house?

Me: Yes.

Tor: I’m on my way there. Taking my lunch break to come kiss you.

Me: OMG Really?! :-)

Five minutes later I hear his bike roaring into the driveway. I wait at the front door for him with a pounding heart, holding myself back from running to him just in case a neighbor might see me. His long jean-clad legs carry him down the walkway quickly and he shuts the door behind him, his eyes locking onto mine with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on him as he immediately reaches for me, cupping his hand on the side of my throat and bending down to cover my mouth with his, slow and deep. Possessive. I wind my arms around his neck and hang on to him as my legs turn to jelly, threatening to let me melt into a puddle at his feet.

This is the best hello of my life.

His tongue sweeps against mine and a small growl sounds in his throat before he pulls away slightly. “I’ve been waiting three fuckin’ days to kiss you again,” he says with a soft, raspy voice. “I couldn’t stand it for another minute.” He rubs his thumb along my jawline and kisses me again, gently sucking my lower lip into his mouth.

“Ditto.” I say when we part for air again. “I thought you wanted to think…”

“I have been. Nonstop. I’ve been thinking so much my brain hurts.”

Moving my hands up from the back of his neck to cradle his head, I pull him down and plant a kiss on the center of his forehead. “There,” I whisper. “I kissed it better for you.”

“Yeah,” he agrees huskily. “You did.” His lips meet mine again and his hand grips my waist, pulling me closer to him. “You make everything better.”

I swallow the lump of happy emotion in my throat as he takes my hand and leads me to the kitchen, where he inspects all the baking ingredients and supplies I’ve got laid out on the counter with keen interest.

“You’re making me something special, aren’t you?” He finally asks with a crooked grin.

I nod excitedly. “Yes. Filet mignon for dinner with mashed potatoes and sautéed fresh green beans…and I’m making you an apple pie.”

His eyes go wide. “You’re spoiling me. Please tell me you’re staying for dinner. I’m not eating all that without you.”

“If you want me to.”

“Of course I want you to. I want to see you as much as I can.”

I play nervously with the small canister of cinnamon on the counter, wondering if he’ll make love to me again or if we’ll just eat together and then I’ll leave. The truth is I want to be in his bed again, with him on top of me all hard and sexy with our bodies connected while he whispers words that people don’t say aloud. Words I can’t wait to hear him say again.

“Then I’ll still be here when you get home.” I reply, turning back to him.

His eyes stay on mine for a few moments, his gaze filled with a longing that makes a warm tingle flow down my spine.