union.
She yelled his first name as her body tensed.
He lifted his head to watch, and she looked him right in the eyes as her orgasm hit. Her back arched further, pressing her breasts into him as her hips quit moving. She squeezed around him and satisfaction filled her face.
At the sight, he came, too. Pure sensation overwhelmed him as he stiffened and released. For just a moment, Jolie and the relief of their lovemaking was all the universe had, and it was a perfect place to be.
He collapsed on top of her, out of breath.
She let go of his bare skin and put her hands more comfortably on his covered back.
“If that’s what I get,” he gasped, “for letting you grab my ass, you can grab it whenever you want.”
Her laugh was loud and unfettered. He picked his head up, keen to see her happiness. She was flushed and smiling and relaxed.
He’d done that. Damn, he’d done good, if he did say so himself. “Wesley, huh?” he teased. “Going with the first name. I don’t hear that much anymore.”
“Felt more personal.” A kiss. “My Wesley of the Divine Tongue.”
My. He liked the sound of that. “More?” he asked, hopeful and already needy. He didn’t think there was such thing as enough when it came to Jolie.
“Oh, yeah.” She pushed him off of her and onto his back. “But this time I’m on top.”
Chapter Eleven
Hauk should not think lustful thoughts at a funeral; it was generally considered the wrong frame of mind for the occasion. But memories of the last sixteen hours kept intruding on his consciousness, swinging his mood from anger to joy at inappropriate moments.
Technically he wasn’t at a funeral. He was near a funeral, sitting on the pink granite tombstone of the dearly departed Potts family. An untamed shrubbery blocked his view of the somber crowd, including Jolie, all bowing their heads at Cassie’s graveside. Whenever he’d peek around the bush at the mourners, he’d sober up. He hadn’t known Cassie, but the way she’d gone made him seethe. He owed Ric Suarez a funeral of his own.
Hauk sighed and checked his watch. Another inappropriate action. Good thing he was hidden. Funerals made him restless. Funerals and ramp ceremonies. Last roll calls. At nineteen on the runway at Kandahar Air Force base in Afghanistan, he’d helped carry the flag-draped coffin of a guy he’d met at the enlistment office. Bearing those empty remains to angel flight, the reality had sunk in that there wasn’t anything he could do for Todd anymore. Todd wasn’t in pain. At best he’d reunited with some good folk and at worst he’d gotten some peace.
One day, one way or another, everyone had a last roll call. When that day came for Hauk, he’d rather people think about the good things in their own lives and not imagine his dead ass moldering in the ground. The living might be offended by his changeable mood, but wherever Cassie was, he didn’t think she cared.
He took another glance around the wild greenery at Jolie and wondered how she was doing. A perfectly constructed funeral expression hid any real emotion. Drove him crazy when she did that. He wanted to protect her, to help her and make her happy—or happy as she could be under the circumstances, anyway. But with that damn mask hiding everything inside he had no clues to help guide his actions. He’d do the best he could when she got back to him.
She made him so happy, more than he’d thought he could be again.
Beside her, Catrina resembled a bumblebee in her bug-eyed sunglasses and black suit over a traffic-light-yellow top. Mercedes was there, too, in her policeman’s uniform, as well as Brayden and a few other Underlighters in more traditional funeral attire. Not as many as would have liked to come, but ever since the discovery of Dr. E people were getting afraid to go topside. In theory he agreed with the open knowledge policy of the Underlight, but sometimes people behaved more rationally when they were a little more ignorant. Ignorance truly was bliss sometimes.
The service ended, and he watched Jolie’s bright hair wind through the black-draped crowd. Sometimes knowledge was bliss. Like knowing the wide-eyed wonder on his girlfriend’s face in the middle of passion. The way her skin felt. The way every part of her tasted. That reality was so much better than anything he’d imagined.
And he was doing it again. Lust-brain at a funeral.
No, after a funeral. Far