Without warning, his hand slid away and he was inside me.
He started moving, rocking deep, pounding hard, it was unlike any time before. I got the sense there was control, if there wasn’t he might have hurt me, but there was just not much of it.
I liked it. No, I loved the thought of making him lose control.
I lifted my knees and hips, encouraging him to lose more. I started panting, my body jerking with each of his thrusts. I whispered in his ear, running my hands across the skin of his back, stroking the damp hair at his nape.
Then there was no way I could talk.
We breathed into each other’s open mouths until I felt it and every muscle in my body clenched, even the secret ones, and I moaned against his lips just as he groaned against mine.
After, he let his body weight rest on me for half a minute then he rol ed us over, stil connected, him on his back, me on top.
My face was pressed against his neck and his hands were on my bottom.
“Holy cow,” I whispered against his neck.
His fingers dug into me but he didn’t answer.
A little later he asked, “Did I hurt you?”
“Not even close,” I responded.
His hands roamed up my back, one wrapped around my waist, one slid into my hair.
He turned his head and murmured in my ear, “Jesus, Roxie, you undo me.”
My body stil ed and, for once, I was silent.
I didn’t know how to process this information. I didn’t even know how to process the fact that Hank would share it.
It was an admission of grand proportions, especial y for a man like Hank. It was an admission bigger than the one I’d made that morning. It was the kind of thing that was said that changed lives.
Final y, I said, “I thought you were just jazzed after catching the bad guys.”
“That’s part of it,” he replied. “Most of it was knowin’
when I was done, I’d come home to you.”
Good God.
“It helped that you weren’t wearing any underwear,” he finished.
That did seem to be the impetus that speeded things up a bit.
He rol ed us to our sides and his hand went to my jaw.
“We have to talk,” he said.
“We are talking.”
“Not after-sex talk. We need to have a conversation.” Oh no.
I wasn’t ready for a conversation, at least not the kind of conversation he seemed to be talking about.
“It’s late. You have to be tired. I don’t –”
“I know you’re pul in’ away even as you get closer,” he told me.