But those fantasies were nothing compared to how sexy it was when her normal defenses slipped tonight. When she let me in a little.
Then a little more.
It’s not enough to feel her body tremble.
I need to be inside her.
If I don’t think too hard about it, I can pretend that’s all I need.
Not the way she sighs my name, her pink tongue darting out to lick her suddenly dry lips. Not her slow smile that makes me feel like the center of her damned world.
Except as I look between us, there’s one problem…
Shit.
“Be right back.”
I head to my room and I dig around in the nightstand drawer for a condom in the dark.
Seriously?
There must be condoms in here.
I get that I didn’t expect to sleep with someone right after losing my wife. But it’s not as if I expected to never have sex again.
My fingers close on a box, unopened, and I yank it out.
When did I get these?
I flip on the lamp and inspect the side of the box.
They’re expired.
Sweat starts at the back of my neck.
Am I crazy? Is what we’re doing crazy?
“Daniel?”
Kat’s voice slices through my thoughts.
I turn to find her in the doorway, her sinful body outlined by the light.
She’s holding a foil package between two fingers, her head cocked in amusement.
Any doubt evaporates.
“Thank fuck.”
Her smile is quick, her cheeks flushed. I turn back long enough to slip the wedding ring off my finger and set it carefully on the nightstand.
It feels strange without it but not bad.
We’re back in her bed in a second.
Her cool hands skim down my chest. When she reaches for my pants, I don’t stop her.
She wrestles with the button and zipper, making a little sound of triumph when she shoves the fabric down.
Once I yank the pants off the rest of the way, shorts too, I find her staring with more than a little surprise.
“You’ve been holding out on me.”
Is it weird to be proud of your dick? It’s been a second since I thought about it, but the way she’s looking at me, hell yes, I’m proud.
“It’s crass to walk around talking about your equipment.”
“Boys at school do.”
“I’m not boys at school.”
She traces a finger around the head, light and exploratory. My breathing gets shallow but I try to stay still. To let her do what she wants.
“Are you going to ruin me for college guys?”
My gaze snaps up to hers. It’s a teasing question, but there’s truth beneath the surface.
“Do you want me to?”
She laughs silently. “Maybe.”
An animal deep in my chest roars.
I hold out a hand for the condom, then rip into it and roll it on.
Kat starts to flip over the way I asked her to before. As much as the sight of her perfect ass makes me groan, I stop her.
“Don’t,” I whisper. “Don’t fucking move.”
I want to watch her come from here, our faces near enough I can feel her breath mix with mine.
Her nostrils flare as she watches me position myself between her thighs. She spreads them wider, an invitation I’d take every damn day she offers it.
She’s slippery and wet, and when I rub my cock against her, she arches again.
I want to tease her. But I want to feel her more.
So I hold her hips with one hand, the other braced next to her head, and I shift the angle.
I plan to go slow.
But when I feel her grip me, hear her little hitch of breath, I can’t hold out.
I sink inside her.
The stroke of my hips seats me so deep my toes curl.
Her nails dig into my shoulders, her lips pressing into my neck as if she can find refuge there.
“Damn,” she whispers.
Damn is right.
If I had the breath, I’d utter every four-letter word in the English language and it wouldn’t come close to capturing how indescribable it feels to be inside this woman.
My weight shifts, my forearms shaking a little from the intensity as I pull out, slow.
Her body grips me as if trying to convince me to stay. Her soft moan of protest that no man in his right mind could resist.
This.
Only this.
Always this.
I shift forward and sink back in.
“Ohhhh.”
She’s waiting, open, pliant. This girl who makes wry jokes and hides behind a shield has her legs spread for me, her body soft and yielding.
Our bodies are flush, our sweat mixing.
The rhythm is a pulse, like a heartbeat.
“More.” Her throaty demand turns up the fire in me.
I’ll give her everything.
I grab under her knee and hitch her leg up between us to change the angle.
She arches her neck, her body tightening around me.
The sweat that started to bead behind my neck is in my hair too.
The bed creaks softly as we move.
We’re not talking, I realize.
We always talk. But our banter evaporated around the time I pressed inside her so deep her eyes changed color.
I don’t miss it. We’re saying everything we need to.
Desire storms through my body as my movements get more intentional, more intense.
My lips fuse to hers, needing to taste her everywhere.
The knot at the base of my spine that demands satisfaction tightens, twists harder.
Not yet. Not yet.
She comes first. A low moan I want to hear every night for the rest of my life as her limbs tighten around me.
While she’s still shaking, I let myself go.
The strength of it rocks me. It’s a kind of wondrous familiarity, like a lesson I’ve heard before but in a language that’s new.
After, her fingers in my hair are soothing, not agitating. Everywhere we’ve touched feels like a fresh brand that hasn’t started to heal.
I grab a tissue off the nightstand to dispose of the condom before I collapse on the bed. I roll onto my back and tug her over me.
“I hope we weren’t too loud,” she murmurs against my ear before laying her head on my chest. “My boss sleeps in the next room.”
I laugh silently.
Her damp hair slides over my skin as she traces lazy circles across my abs.
“I should go,” I say after a few minutes.
The circles stop.
“You don’t have to.”
My eyes drift shut.
When I sink into the darkness, it’s a good kind of dark.
23
DANIEL
The birds outside the window are incessant. Chirping and singing as if demanding they be let inside.
I don’t blame them. If I were on the outside, I’d want in, too.
I wrap my arms tighter around the woman next to me.
Kat’s asleep, still naked. Her back is pressed to my chest, her hips nestled against mine, the soft vanilla scent of her shampoo filling my nostrils.
As if I need a reminder of what we did last night.
My fingers graze her stomach and I think of the lines there. The ones that show me she’s strong and vulnerable at the same time.
I can’t imagine being in hospital as a teen, missing friends and milestones along the way.
There have been lots of times I didn’t want to talk about what we went through as a family. Not least because I knew people might look at me, at us, with sympathy or worse, pity.