Mal quirked an eyebrow at me. “What do you want to think about instead?”
I could’ve said something snarky and horny, gotten back to kissing him, but something in my chest still ached at the sight of the wound. Especially knowing he’d handled the worst of the healing alone.
“You were there for me through the worst of my grief,” I said gently, still leaning over him with my lips close to his shoulder. “When I could hardly get out of bed, when I couldn’t sleep, when I could hardly imagine continuing on… you were there for me even when I wouldn’t let you be. I don’t know if I ever thanked you for that.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” Mal said softly. “You would’ve done it for me, too.”
“I like to think I would’ve,” I admitted. “But I haven’t been here for you so far.”
“You are now,” Mal said. “That’s what matters.”
How could he be so kind? So forgiving? I wasn’t sure what I’d done to deserve this—to not only have one great love of my life, but two. And to have Mal understand why I’d ran, and to forgive me so easily. I wasn’t going to abandon him again. The fear of loss was still there, but it was clearly worth it now—worth having Mal next to me.
“I am,” I said. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good,” Mal said, and then that coy smirk was on his lips again. “Now stop treating me like I’m fragile.” He reached out and hooked two fingers in my waistband. “Get these off. I missed you.”
I hopped off the bed, tugged my shirt overhead, and then shucked my jeans off quickly as well. Mal rolled gingerly onto his back, watching me with his eyes dark with interest. He was so gorgeous—his broad, muscular chest, the wiry gray hair dusting his chest, his strong core shifting with each breath. His hands went to his waistband, about to pop the button on his jeans.
“Quit that,” I said, then raised my eyebrows. “I want to be the one to do that.”
“Oh, I see,” Mal said teasingly.
So instead of popping his jeans open, he simply spread his legs a little wider and ran his palm over the swell of his cock trapped in his jeans. Fuck, that was hot. I stood pinned to the spot for a moment, watching him rub his hand up and down as he watched me. My own cock twitched in interest, hardening in my shorts. Mal’s gaze zeroed in on it, and his lips parted.
“Get over here,” he said. “Fuck, you’re sexy. Get these off me before I do it myself.”
“Demanding,” I said with a grin. I knelt on the bed between his spread legs, then leaned down to mouth a kiss at his sternum as I skated my hand down his torso to the waistband of his jeans.
“It’s been a while,” Mal grumbled, and well, he had a point there. I dragged my mouth across the muscle of his pec, then pressed the flat of my tongue to his peaked nipple, savoring the low groan that pulled from his chest. Then I popped the button on his jeans and sat up just enough to tug them off his body.
Then he was spread out in front of me, his thick muscular legs, the curve of his bicep with his good arm propping his head up, and the thick line of his cock visible through his tight underwear. I took a moment to savor the sight, drinking him in, from his narrow ankles all the way to his smirking face and the deep crow’s feet at the corners of his warm eyes.
“God, you’re sexy,” I murmured.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” Mal said with his eyebrow raised. “Now please get up here and fuck me.”
“Well, when you ask so nicely,” I said. Then I climbed onto the bed next to him and maneuvered him so we were face to face, ensuring Mal was on his good side. “You want me to fuck you?”
“You want me to say it again?” Mal asked, then leaned forward and kissed me.
“Love hearing you say it,” I said. “Can you blame me?”
We traded slow, thorough kisses. I pulled away only long enough to grab the lube, and then tugged Mal closer, so we were tangled together. I ran my palm up and down his thigh, then over his hip to his ass, squeezing hard.
“Get a move on,” Mal said, smiling into the kiss. He