By the time we get home, I’m squirming in the passenger seat of David’s car. He’s kept his hand sitting lightly on my thigh, but just having him touch me turns me on. The whole ride home I kept waiting for his hand to move, but it didn’t. He talked about topics that don’t really matter, and as soon as he pulls into the garage and cuts the car off, I wait for him to do something … anything … to satisfy the ache growing between my legs.

When his hand starts to move, my entire body tenses in anticipation, but aside from the smirk curling the corner of his lip, nothing happens. His hand leaves my thigh and he gets out of the car, shutting his door quietly before coming around to open mine. Again, I expect him to do something, to pull me close and kiss me, to shove me against the side of the car and shove the skirt I wore to work today up around my waist and touch me.

Instead, he takes my hand to help me out, then leads me up to the door leading into the kitchen. I want to ask him what the hell, but I don’t. It’s a scaredy-cat move, but I’m suddenly worried he is upset I volunteered us for babysitting duty on a holiday that’s centered around relationships. The thing he doesn’t seem to understand is, he shows me every day how much he loves me, how much I mean to him. I don’t need Valentine’s Day for that. And, if us keeping Amelia for a night will let Jeremy and SB spend some much needed alone time together — even if they spend the entire time sleeping — why wouldn’t I offer?

We walk inside, and David heads straight for the kitchen, leaving me to stand in the hallway, wondering whether I should try to explain. He didn’t seem upset when we were at Drench, but now I’m not sure. Maybe I just read him wrong. Normally, I’d follow him in and help make dinner, but tonight, I take a few minutes to myself, and go to our room to change into something less constricting than what I wore to work.

Walking into the bedroom, I start to strip off my clothes as soon as I shut the door. The button-down white blouse is the first thing to go, followed by the navy blue skirt and heels. Normally, Nashville Nights isn’t the type of place you need to dress up for, but sometimes, I want to wear something other than jeans and a t-shirt. Once I’m down to the lacy white bra and boy-cut panties I put on this morning, I walk into the closet to find one of David’s million concert t-shirts.

I freeze when I walk back out to find David leaning against the now open door frame, arms crossed over his chest as his eyes travel down my barely clad body. Heat fills his hazel eyes and a trail of goosebumps follows their path.

Clearing my throat, I tell him, “I thought you were mad.”

“Not mad,” he reassures me, “just thinking about how I want you to make up for screwing up my plans.” My breath shortens, both from his words, and the thought that he’d already made plans.

“Oops,” I whisper, my voice barely a breath.

David smirks as he walks over to stand in front of me. “Yeah … oops.”

I open my mouth to say something, but his mouth descends on mine before I can. His tongue enters my mouth, tangling with mine for just a second before he pulls back to suck my bottom lip into his mouth. I whimper, dropping his shirt so I can wrap my arms around his neck, and his hands tighten on my waist, clutching me tight enough I wonder if my skin will bear the marks come morning.

His kiss ends as fast as it started, and when I open my eyes, his are now a molten gold, full of heat, and I can’t stop the shiver that runs through my body at the sight. “On your knees,” he growls. My knees immediately hit the floor, unable to hold my weight. David isn’t always like this, but the times he is drive me out of my mind with lust. I don’t wait for him to give any further instructions, I know what he’s going to ask for.

My hands easily unbutton his jeans, and I look up at him when I grip the zipper, pulling it down slowly. His jaw tightens when my knuckles brush against the hard flesh just behind it. My hands are shaking when I push the denim down his hips, his boxer briefs now the only thing keeping his erection from my mouth. Then, I push them down as well, and he springs free. I wrap my left hand around the base, squeezing slightly, just enough to earn a small moan from him. David’s hands fist at his sides, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me, or reach for me yet. He’s giving me time to do whatever I desire, something he knows I love.

I lean closer to press a kiss to the head of his cock, then suck it into my mouth. He’s barely inside, and I can feel him grow harder where I’m gripping him with one hand. Keeping my eyes on his, I slide my mouth down further, not stopping until I reach my hand. He hits the back of my throat, and I focus all my attention on giving him pleasure.

It doesn’t take long for him to lose control, and soon, he’s gripping me by the tops of my arms and hauling me back up so I’m standing in front of him once more. “Dammit Lyric, you’re too fucking good at that.”

I laugh, my mouth pressed to his, and as we continue to kiss, he walks me backwards through the room, not stopping until the backs of my knees hit the side of our mattress.

He pushes me down, following me so he’s leaning over me, my legs opening to accommodate him between them. His mouth trails kisses down my jaw, stopping briefly at the spot just underneath my ear that he knows makes me crazy before traveling down the curve of my throat.

One of his hands slides underneath my arched back to undo my bra, then both hands push the straps of my bra down my arms, leaving me bare from the waist up. David lifts his head to look down at me as he takes one of my nipples in his mouth. His fingers tweak the other while he tortures me with his tongue, and I can barely focus on anything but the look in his eyes while he works me over. It’s a heady combination of lust, love, and desire.

His hand slides down my stomach as he takes the other nipple between his teeth, gliding seamlessly under my panties to where I’m wet for him. He rumbles a growl against my flesh when he feels my damp skin, and slides one long finger inside me. The brush of his thumb against my clit scatters my senses and I fly into an orgasm that completely wrecks me. I squeeze my eyes shut as I ride out the pleasure, and when I open them again, he’s looking down at me with a dirty smile.

“That was one,” he says, before kissing his way down my torso.