She clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. He just grinned against her skin, and continued, his tongue finding a rhythm that made her back arch off the mattress. She felt his hands on her thighs, holding her steady as the pressure built inside her. When she came, it was with his name on her lips, her fingers gripping the sheets so tightly her knuckles went white.
He crawled back up her body, kissing her breathless again. She tasted herself on his lips, felt his arousal pressing against her hip.
“Your turn,” she whispered, reaching between them tounfasten his belt. He helped, shucking his jeans and boxers in one smooth motion.
She wrapped her hand around him, watching his face as she stroked. His eyes closed, jaw clenching, throat working as he swallowed. She loved seeing him like this—unguarded, vulnerable. The man who carried everyone else’s burdens, finally letting someone carry him.
“Wait,” he gasped, catching her wrist. “Not yet.”
He leaned across her to the nightstand drawer, fumbling inside for a moment before pulling out a condom. She took it from him, tore the package open with her teeth.
“Let me,” she said, rolling it on slowly, deliberately.
Walker groaned, then flipped them so she was on top, straddling him. His hands settled on her hips, guiding but not controlling. She sank down onto him inch by inch, adjusting to the fullness, the stretch. When he was fully inside her, she paused, biting her lip. He was thick and long, stretching her in a way no one ever had, and the expression on his face—eyelids fluttering, lips parted—sent a jolt of heat straight to her core.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he said, voice vibrating with restraint. His hands gripped her hips, holding her still as he shuddered. “Been thinking about this for years. Can’t believe you’re finally here.” He guided her, slow at first, grinding her against the base of him in tight circles.
She closed her eyes, letting her head fall back, savoring the feeling. “I want all of you,” she said, and he responded with a curse, low and reverent. He started to move her up and down, and she let him, loving the way he filled her, the way her body opened for him. She rode him, slow and deep, her hands braced on his chest for leverage. He was all muscle and scars, every inch of him mapped by what he’d survived.
“Look at you,” he growled, his voice gone ragged. “So fucking gorgeous.” He sat up, mouth finding her neck, hisbreath hot in her ear. “I want you come again. Squeeze my cock till I can’t take it.”
She laughed, a wild, open sound she didn’t know she was capable of. “Should’ve known you’d be bossy in bed,” she teased, rocking harder on him, loving the way he lost control beneath her.
“You love it,” he shot back. And yes, she did, she really did.
Their rhythm built, the slap of skin on skin filling the room. She felt him swell inside her, his grip on her hips turning bruising, desperate. With every thrust she got closer, the pressure spiraling inside her, his filthy words tumbling out as she fucked him.
“God, Jo, you’re so fucking tight,” he said, voice hoarse. “You want to come for me again? Want to soak my cock, sweetheart?”
She moaned, the words pushing her higher. “Yes,” she gasped. “Yes, Walker, please.” She pressed her clit hard against him, grinding with every stroke, the friction perfect.
He slid a hand between them and rubbed her exactly right, rough and perfect. “Come for me,” he ordered, and she did, shattering around him, her whole body pulsing as the orgasm ripped through her. She screamed into his shoulder, biting down to muffle it, and he followed, groaning her name as he thrust deep and held, pulsing hot inside her.
They clung together, shaking, the aftershocks making her tremble in his arms. She buried her face in his neck, breathing him in, her body slick with sweat and need.
He held her there, hands gentle now, stroking her back and hair. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered, a laugh in his voice. “You okay?”
She nodded, smiling against his skin. “I’m perfect.”
“Liar,” he said softly. “You’re better than perfect.”
She levered herself up, propping on his chest, thighs stilltrembling. “I think we can do better if we work on it,” she said and kissed him.
He grinned up at her, open and goofy in a way she’d never seen before. “You want more?”
She laughed and rolled off him, then turned to face him on the pillow. “You offering?
He answered by pulling her close, kissing her fiercely. “We’ve got years to make up for, Jo. Gonna keep you up all night.”
twenty-eight
Walker woke to the sound of Cowboy scratching at the bedroom door. The cattle dog’s nails clicked against the wood in a familiar rhythm that meant he needed to go out. Sunlight spilled through the gap in the curtains, painting a stripe across the bed that warmed Walker’s bare shoulder. He blinked, taking in the scent of coffee drifting up from downstairs, mixed with the clatter of pots and pans. Someone was cooking breakfast. But it was the weight against his side, the soft skin and gentle breathing, that brought the night rushing back to him.
Johanna lay curled against him, her dark hair fanned across the pillow, one arm draped over his chest. The navy quilt had slipped down, exposing the curve of her shoulder and the smooth line of her back. Her face was relaxed in sleep, the tiny worry line between her eyebrows smoothed away.
The scratching at the door stopped. Walker heard Cowboy sigh heavily, then the soft thump of the dog lying down. He’d wait. He always did.
Walker stayed still, not wanting to wake her. Not wanting to break whatever spell had finally allowed this to happen afteryears of careful distance. He traced a finger down her spine, barely touching, counting the small knobs of her vertebrae. Her skin was warm under his callused fingertip, soft in a way that made his chest tighten.
