He didn’t need her to say that she wanted him. He could see it, could read it clear as day.
“You’re so beautiful.”
She smiled, the look one of genuine happiness. “Always the charmer.”
He shook his head because he didn’t want her to think that was a line, just him trying to get into her pants. That wasn’t what it was. He must have given away his concern, because she cupped one of his cheeks while kissing the other.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her breath warm.
Tank drew his lips along her face, down her jaw, to the side of her neck, while McKenna’s fingers threaded through his hair.
Keeping his lips on her, he reached under her thighs, tugging until she slipped down to her back. Tank moved over her, caging her beneath him, groaning when she parted her legs and wrapped them around his waist.
This was the single greatest moment of his life, and he knew it.
Now, he just needed to savor it.
And find a way to make it last.
Forever.
Chapter Eight
McKenna tended to be the queen of overthinking things, but this moment didn’t require thought. For once, she was throwing logic out the window and giving herself over to feelings.
Her mind was definitely going to kick in later and start listing all the reasons why this was wrong, but for now, she didn’t care.
Didn’t care about being smart or practical or any of those boring things.
For once, she wanted to throw caution to the wind and just…be.
With Tank.
With this sexy, surprisingly dear, and maybe even a little bit broken man.
McKenna closed her eyes as a sound she’d never made in her life—something between a whimper and a moan—came out when Tank sank his teeth into the crook between her neck and shoulder.
She’d had three lovers in the past, and all of them had been gentle, easygoing in bed. She’d thought their touches sweet and romantic, but Jesus, had she been selling herself short. Tank stroked the spot he’d just bitten with his tongue before kissing it all better.
He slipped his hands under her pajama top, roughly yanking her bra down so that he could cup her bare breasts. He pinched and rolled her nipples until she groaned.
“God,” she exclaimed, her eyes flying open just in time to catch Tank’s too-pleased smirk. The guy was playing her like a violin, and he knew it.
“I like those sounds of yours,” he murmured, pinching her nipples again. She whimpered, her pussy clenching in response. Apparently, Tank was well-versed in pressure points, aware that pushing and prodding one part of the body would produce a reaction in another.
Before that moment, McKenna wouldn’t have even considered her nipples an erogenous zone. The light kisses and sucks of past lovers had actually bored her.
“Are you going to scream for me, McKenna?”
Two responses popped into her head at his question at the exact same time. One, while she’d never screamed in bed in her life, she was damn sure she was going to for him.
And secondly, he’d called her by her name for the first time.
After a lifetime of being Mickey, Mac, Kenny, and Mouse, she couldn’t recall the last time someone she was close to using her full name. She liked hearing it from him…a lot.
She’d done more than her fair share of fantasizing about what it would be like to sleep with Tank. The worn-out batteries in her vibrator could attest to that, but she’d paired him with her past sexual experiences and completely missed the boat on what to expect.
Fantasy Tank said silly things while being playful. She’d imagined tickles, soft strokes, even laughter. Probably because that was how they were when they were together. Things were always easy, fun, friendly.
