I loved the weight of him in my palm, the hungry jerk of his hips. I loved the way he growled every time I twisted my hand up to his cockhead and shoved it down to the base. I never thought I’d like that, the growling, but I loved it. “I know. I want to.”
“If you keep that up, this is going to be over real fast.”
“Sounds fair,” I said. “Considering.”
His laugh turned into a starved groan and he covered my hand with his. I listened as his breathing turned ragged, his chest rising and falling against my shoulder, and I watched as we stroked him together. He dropped his other hand to the back of my neck, squeezing as we stroked down.
“I love this about you,” he said, his words strained. “I love?—”
Before I could do anything with those words, he buried his face in my shoulder and shifted his hips away just enough so I didn’t end up wearing his orgasm.
“The birds are going to talk about this,” I said.
“What…what did you say?”
I decided to keep that one to myself. “Nothing. It’s fine.”
“I haven’t said this in at least twenty years,” he rasped, his lips pressed to the tender spot below my ear, “but that was an incredible hand job.”
I dug in my pocket to find something to help him clean up. I found a pair of nitrile gloves and some gauze. “Here.” I unfolded the gauze. “This might help.”
He glanced at me, his brows pinched. “Do you keep gauze in all of your pockets?”
“You don’t? It comes in handy.” I motioned between us. “Right now, for instance.”
Henry accepted the gauze while I straightened my leggings. He stared at me as he buttoned his jeans and fastened his belt, and something in that stare poured over me like liquid heat, warming everything it touched.
“It’s a good thing I finally found you,” he said.
I bobbed my head. “Yeah. It is.”
“I always will.”
If ever there was a sign that the time for keeping slightly awkward secrets was over, that was it. I’d done the math on all the different ways this could go down and I felt confident that we’d be okay in the end but it’d be a strange ride getting there.
With frantic, flappy hands, I motioned between us. “Yeah, so, can I tell you something weird?”
A laugh shook out of him. His cheeks were flushed and he still looked a little dazed. God, he was so sweet. “You can tell me anything you want, Whit.”
“About the wedding,” I said carefully. “I don’t know Florrie’s family. We weren’t actually supposed to be there.”
He pushed a hand through his hair. “What does that mean?”
“Meri and I, we—well, the thing is, we plan vacations every summer and go to a bunch of weddings as uninvited guests.”
Henry stared at me, tapping his fingers on his belt and blinking not even once. “You crash weddings?”
I clasped my hands in front of me. “Yes.”
“You weren’t on the guest list. Because you weren’t invited.” He said this mostly to himself as he brought his palm to theback of his neck. He was silent for longer than I could withstand and then, shaking his head like he really couldn’t believe I’d do something like that, he asked, “Why?”
“Uh, well, it’s amusing. There’s that. Good parties, good times. And cake, as you’re aware. And we, um”—I rolled my hand between us in a gesture that I hoped he interpreted asgirls just wanna have fun—“often make new friends by the end of the night.”
His jaw fell to the forest floor. “You go on vacation to crash weddings and have sex?”
“That is a highly distilled way to phrase it but yes.”
“Wait a minute. You crashed a wedding and had sex with me!”
