His torso was partially lifted, his head was bent, his eyes were watching his hand glide from my hip to my waist, in over my belly between my br**sts and then up my neck where it moved away. Then I felt his finger slide down my hairline, pushing my hair off my neck, his hand moved to my jaw, he gently twisted my neck then his hand went away but he bent in and I felt his tongue touch the skin behind my ear as his hand slid back down my body. Finally, his arm came to rest low on my belly and curved around my hip.
He’d never done this before. This was different. This was better. Seriously better.
Oh boy.
“Just two this time,” he murmured into my ear. “Losin’ my touch.”
“What?” I whispered and his head came up but he stayed close, pressed in, his face near mine.
“My mouth and fingers, babe, you only came twice.”
“Um… well, I came once before and once after so I’m pretty sure I’m covered.”
He grinned then he bent and touched his mouth to the base of my throat. His head moved away but he locked his eyes to mine.
They were heated and intense.
Shit.
“How do you heat this place?” I asked, directing post-coital pillow talk to the mundane for sanity’s sake. I didn’t want a play-by-play. My head was messed up enough, I didn’t know where this was going, I didn’t know what I was thinking and I was scared as hell of what I was feeling. Talking about how great sex was with Hawk only intensified all of that.
“What?” he asked back.
“You live in a warehouse with cement floors, Hawk, it’s a minor miracle you can heat this place.”
His response was to shift, bending over my body, he grabbed the covers and pulled them up over us.
He thought I was saying I was cold. Then he instantly did something about it.
Okay, maybe I did want to talk about how great sex was with Hawk because experiencing him being sweet and thoughtful messed with my head a whole lot more than his ability to give me four really, f**king fantastic orgasms in the span of thirty minutes.
Then his arm went low on my hip again and he turned me to my side facing him, his legs tangling with mine, his arm pulling me close.
For my part, I rested my hands to his chest because I liked touching him and because I liked this. This wasn’t retreat. This wasn’t slam bam, thank you ma’am. This was nice.
“It’s not as bad as it seems,” he belatedly replied.
“Your heating bills must cost as much as my mortgage,” I remarked.
He smiled at me. “No.”
“You would know,” I muttered, looking at his throat.
“Yeah, I do, Sweet Pea, and you need to refinance. The interest you’re payin’ is ridiculous. I’ll sort a meeting with my financial advisor.”
My eyes lifted to his as I felt my belly start to get squishy.
“You’ll sort a meeting out with your financial advisor?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he answered.
Uh-oh. He was being sweet and thoughtful again.
“Is that part of your Protect Gwendolyn Kidd Duties, to make sure I don’t get gouged by mortgage lenders?” I asked.
He kept smiling and his arm got tighter. “There are many facets to my Protect Gwendolyn Kidd Duties.”
“Care to expand on that?”