Chapter 91

As the last dish clinked into the drying rack, the warm hum of the kitchen buzzed with contentment—low laughter, the scent of lemon and leftover sweetness, and the soft clatter of mugs being rinsed out. Abigail stood at the sink, wiping her hands on a dish towel, when Emma moved in behind her like a slow tide rolling in.

She wrapped her arms around Abigail’s waist, slipping her hands beneath the hem of her shirt to find skin—warm, soft, familiar. Abigail leaned into the touch without hesitation, a knowing smile pulling at her lips.

“Thanks for dinner, Chef,” Emma whispered against the shell of her ear, lips brushing the skin with barely-there affection.

Abigail turned in her arms, her hands sliding up to Emma’s waist, eyes scanning her face like she was seeing her for the first time all over again. “You keep kissing me like that,” she said, voice low and teasing, “and we’re gonna have leftovers tomorrow too.”

Emma didn’t reply with words. Instead, she leaned in slowly, deliberately, their breaths mingling—warmth and want and something unspoken building between them.

When their lips met, it was a slow burn. No rush. Just pressure and breath and the firm press of two people who knew every inch of each other but still wanted more. Abigail’s hands moved to Emma’s jaw, holding her there, anchoring the moment. Emma tilted her head slightly, deepening the kiss, lips parting as their mouths found rhythm.

Tongues teased and explored, not frantic, but with purpose—like they were memorizing each other all over again. Emma’s fingers curled into Abigail’s shirt, tugging her closer until there was no space left between them. Abigail’s hand slipped under Emma’s thighs and, in one smooth, strong motion, she lifted her effortlessly onto the kitchen counter.

Emma gasped into the kiss, breaking it for just a moment as she grinned. “Show off.”

Abigail smirked, “You love it.” and stepped between her legs, pulling her in again, closer, deeper, until their hips aligned and their kiss turned from sweet to scorching. Emma wrapped her legs around Abigail’s waist, anchoring herself there as they melted into one another.

The kitchen faded. The sounds of Megan and Ashley laughing behind them disappeared into the haze of heat building between them. It was all lips and hands, the taste of each other’s breath, the friction of bodies pressed together in a quiet frenzy.

Abigail’s fingers slipped under Emma’s shirt, exploring the smooth skin of her back as she pressed closer, kissing her like she was starving and Emma was the only thing that could satisfy her.

“God, I missed this,” Emma whispered against her lips, her voice breathless.

Abigail barely nodded, still chasing her mouth. “Then don’t stop.”

They kissed again—open-mouthed, desperate, so lost in the heat of it that Emma barely noticed the sound of someone clearing their throat nearby.

“Okay, damn,” Megan said from behind them, wide-eyed but grinning. “Do we need to clear out again?”

Ashley let out a dramatic sigh. “No complaints, but y’all might set off the smoke alarm.”

Abigail pulled back from the kiss, flushed and panting, her lips pink and kiss-swollen. Emma rested her forehead against hers, trying to catch her breath, both of them smiling like they shared a secret no one else could touch.

Emma turned slightly, tucking herself under Abigail’s chin, arms still wrapped tight around her shoulders. “Sorry, got a little carried away.”

Megan raised her glass. “Carried away looks good on you.”

Ashley chuckled, sliding down from the counter. “Next time, give a girl a warning so I can film it.”

Abigail shook her head, laughing, still holding Emma close on the counter. “You’re all ridiculous.”

Emma’s lips found her jaw for one last slow kiss before she whispered, “You’re mine,” soft enough that only Abigail heard it.

Abigail’s heart thudded in her chest. And for a moment, it wasn’t just about desire—it was about safety. Love. Home.

Then Emma pulled back slightly, eyes glittering with mischief. “Let’s take a shower.”

Abigail raised a brow, already knowing she didn’t need to be asked twice. “You sure you’ll survive it?”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Emma teased.

Abigail carried her across the kitchen, their bodies moving as one. Emma’s fingers threaded into her hair, tugging gently as their mouths collided again and again. It was messy, hot, full of soft moans and stifled laughter.

In the background, Megan and Ashley were still at the kitchen table, their conversation dissolving into a fit of giggles.

“You two need a traffic sign,” Megan teased. “Caution: Steamy PDA Zone.”

Ashley laughed. “I’d pay for this view.”

Abigail glanced over her shoulder and flashed them both a wink, never breaking her stride. “Don’t wait up!”

Emma, legs locked tight around Abigail’s waist, kissed her one more time and called out between breaths, “Try not to miss us too much.”

Abigail carried her down the hall, pausing only to press Emma against the wall for another drawn-out kiss. Her hand supported Emma’s back, her other under her thighs, lips never leaving hers for long.

As they headed toward the hallway, Abigail called out behind them, “We’ll be back! Eventually!”

Emma laughed, her head tucked against Abigail’s neck. “Eventually,” she echoed, her voice warm with anticipation.

“Don’t flood the place!” Megan yelled after them.

Ashley snorted. “Let me know if you need snacks and electrolytes.”

Their laughter followed Abigail and Emma all the way down the hall—and then the door clicked shut behind them.

The bathroom was already warm from the residual heat of the day, but as Abigail carried Emma inside, it instantly felt hotter. The overhead light cast a soft golden glow, bouncing off the sleek tiles and fogging up the mirrors as steam from the still-damp walls curled in lazy tendrils around them.

Abigail set Emma down with care, her lips trailing down the curve of her neck as Emma’s legs slid from around her waist. Emma giggled, her fingers lacing behind Abigail’s neck as she leaned into the kiss that followed, soft and deep.

“Let’s get this going before I forget how to turn on a faucet,” Abigail murmured, her voice husky with want and affection.

Emma grinned, breathless. “Pretty sure that’s already happened.”

They undressed each other slowly—shirts tugged over heads, fingers gliding along warm skin, pants slipping down in unison. Emma stepped back to admire Abigail for a second, her eyes sweeping over the muscles, the strength, the way her body looked both gentle and commanding.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered, fingertips brushing across Abigail’s chest and stomach.

Abigail reached out, cupping Emma’s face with both hands. “You always say it like it’s the first time.” Her thumbs swept over Emma’s cheeks. “Still makes my heart race.”

The moment held, thick with emotion, before they stepped into the shower together. The water poured down warm and steady, a soft cascade that wrapped them in their own little storm.

Abigail backed Emma against the tile, her body pressing gently into hers. Their lips met again, mouths slick and slow under the rainfall. Water streamed between them, trickling over shoulders, down spines, following the path of fingertips and whispered gasps.

Emma’s hands slid down Abigail’s back, pulling her closer. Their kisses deepened, building in intensity with every soft moan that echoed off the walls. Abigail’s mouth moved from Emma’s lips to her neck, then lower, kissing along the slope of her collarbone, letting her hands roam over Emma’s wet skin like she was memorizing her all over again.

Emma leaned her head back against the wall, letting the water hit her chest as Abigail kissed down her stomach. Her hands found Abigail’s shoulders, holding on as her breathing quickened.

Abigail looked up at her, eyes full of adoration and fire. “Tell me what you want.”

Emma let out a shaky breath, her fingers tightening. “You.”

That was all it took.