She rocked forward, and I let her set the pace. Tenderness threaded through the urgency. I wanted to take my time and savor every second.
“Hayes,” she whispered, her voice rough. “Please.”
“I’ve got you, sweet girl.” I tipped her chin up, my thumb brushing the corner of her mouth. My body said yes to the way her fingers dug into my shoulder, yes to the stutter of her breath when I shifted, yes to the way she arched into me and took me deeper.
We found a rhythm that was created just for us. She moved with me, then against me, then with me again. When I murmured her name into her ear, her low moan almost made me come undone. Time thinned and stretched until nothing mattered except the way she felt underneath me.
I shifted, my hand cupping the hollow of her back, feeling her muscles move under my palm as she wrapped her legs aroundme. The bed creaked. Our breaths tangled. She lifted her hips, and I accepted the invitation to drive into her harder. The walls of her pussy tightened around me.
“Look at me.” I needed to see her. When she did, the world came into focus. Firelight caught the laugh-line by her eyes, snow-light painted pale high notes along her cheek, and that small crease between her brows—her thinking crease—smoothed away. “You’re so fucking beautiful, sweet girl, that it almost hurts to look at you.”
She came first, soft and hard, with a cry that vibrated through me. I followed, my muscles clenching until I couldn’t hold back. We clung to each other through the last tremors, neither of us willing or ready to let go.
For a while we did nothing but breathe. Her face tucked into the hollow of my neck while I dragged my thumb down her spine. I’d been worried that the spark that ignited three years ago might have faded away. Thank fuck I’d been wrong.
“This changes everything,” she said into my chest, her voice small and raw.
“Good.” I kissed the crown of her head. “Because I’m not walking away this time.”
She didn’t argue. That quiet acceptance scared me more than a fight would have. It meant she was making a choice too. We were choosing each other.
When I got up to take care of the condom, she rolled to her side. I padded to the kitchenette for water and came back with two glasses and a few pieces of chocolate the hotel had stuffed into the welcome baskets.
“You need to eat something. Sorry, this is all I could find.”
She laughed. “Are you trying to amp me up on sugar after midnight?”
“You need something since you burned through everything you had out there.”
“Was it that obvious?” She humored me by taking a bite of chocolate.
“To me, yeah.” I tucked a curl behind her ear and watched her face. “You kept everyone else blind.”
She took another breath, her gaze shifting to the window for a moment before returning to mine. “I’ve never wanted anything to go right this badly.”
“It did.” I let the sentence hang, then added, softer, “Because of you.”
“I had help. From someone who doesn’t take orders.”
“Maybe I take yours.” The words slipped out, more serious than I had intended. For a heartbeat, I wanted to pull them back, afraid of scaring her away.
“You made it easier to believe I could pull it off,” she said.
“You would’ve anyway,” I offered.
“Maybe,” she admitted. “But thanks to you, I didn’t have to find out.”
Silence settled between us, not awkward but full and solid. I watched her fold the chocolate wrapper between her fingers, worry flickering across her face.
“I got a text from Stetson earlier. He was trying to show up and surprise Rand, but the storm got in the way. He’ll be here as soon as the roads open.”
“I know.” I felt the weight of his name settle like a third wheel between us. He was the brother she loved to pieces. I was the horrible friend who’d crossed a line that had been clearly marked.
“He won’t like this,” she said, trying the thought on and finding it both ridiculous and true.
“No.” I met her gaze. “He won’t. I’ll handle him.”
“Are you sure?”
