He shook his head, lifting his chin toward the coffee table. “I’ve got three more condoms in that wallet, and we’re going to blow through all of them tonight.”
The comment was so Tank, so arrogant and confident, that she couldn’t help but laugh and say, “Okay.”
McKenna sank deeper into her pillow, shocked she was still conscious. Typically, she was an early to bed, early to rise kind of girl, so she wasn’t sure where these second and third and fourth winds had come from.
A glance at the clock told her it was just after three a.m. The fact she had work in the morning should have had her in a state of panic, but instead, she simply wrapped her arm around Tank’s waist and sighed contentedly.
“I can’t believe we did this,” she mused, still amazed by everything that had happened. After announcing they were going to blow through three more condoms, Tank had put his money where his mouth was. He’d carried her—and those condoms—upstairs, then used the first one while taking her doggie style in her bed. From there, they’d moved to the bathroom, taking a sexy shower together. When they got out, Tank dried her off, then turned her away from him, bent her over the bathroom counter, pulled on the second condom, and got her all dirty again.
They’d fallen asleep after that, the third condom forgotten until half an hour ago, when McKenna was roused from a deep sleep by the feeling of Tank’s fingers sliding inside her. She’d never had someone fuck her awake, and she had to admit, she was a big fan.
“I wondered when your brain was going to kick in,” Tank murmured.
“What?” she asked, groggy from too little sleep and too much sex. No, strike that. There was no such thing as too much sex when it came to Tank. What they’d done felt like the perfect amount.
“I honestly thought you’d need a looooong conversation before we made it to bed,” he said.
McKenna snorted. “Yeah. I’m definitely that type. Usually.”
“Any regrets?” he asked.
She considered his question, then shook her head. “Not at the moment.”
“Tomorrow?”
McKenna could live to be a thousand years old and never regret what happened between them. Sure, there were a million reasons why they shouldn’t have, and she was going to have to pay the piper on all of those, but she still wouldn’t regret this.
“Technically, it is tomorrow. So no. Not then either.”
Tank smiled widely. “Good.” Then, he kissed her softly. “Good night, Mouse.”
“Good night,” she said on a yawn, sleep reclaiming her quickly.
Buzz.
Buzz.
McKenna slowly opened her eyes, blinking a few times because damn, she was tired.
The reason for her exhaustion was currently serving as her pillow, and McKenna resisted the urge to pinch herself when she felt the steady rhythm of his heart and the peaceful rise and fall of Tank’s chest beneath her.
She remained still for a moment longer, waiting for panic to kick in.
Apparently, she was more exhausted than she realized because nothing came. No self-recrimination. No desire to kick her own ass.
She didn’t even bother to minimize the damage by referring to last night as a momentary lapse in judgment.
Because she wasn’t sorry.
She’d never had a one-night stand before, explaining that away by saying she wasn’t the type. She was rethinking that stance, realizing the reason she’d never indulged in one was because she’d never been presented with the opportunity.
Last night, she was.
And holy fuck, was she happy about that. Because the entire evening had been hot and amazing and…perfect.
Her phone buzzed again. She’d plugged it into the charger last night after stripping out of her wet clothing and putting on her pajamas.
Slowly extricating herself from Tank’s warm embrace, she rolled over and somewhat blindly reached around on her nightstand, searching for her glasses before recalling she’d left them on the coffee table in the living room.
