“Okay, point,” he conceded, laughter still in his voice. “Second best. But holy crap, Preston, this is going to be amazing.”
“Yeah, baby. It is.” I kissed him again, gave his ass a pat, then pushed him away. “Why don’t we get unpacked?”
He really did pout then. “Do we have to? I want to explore.”
“Yes, we have to. I’m not living out of suitcases for a month.”
His grin turned wicked. “Then you unpack. I don’t have a problem living out of a suitcase.”
I hummed as I headed for my bags. “Ah, but you packed the lube in yourbag. So really…”
He raced for his suitcase and duffle, scooped them up, and nearly dropped them. “What are you waiting for? We need to unpack!”
He jogged toward the bedroom, and I followed more leisurely. There was no need to rush. We had all the time in the world. It was going to be an awesome four weeks. Just my man and this beautiful place, us relaxing and enjoying the scenery and each other. What more could a guy ask for?2