But then Dan chuckles, low and rough, and something about the way he’s looking at me, his pupils dark, his lips slightly parted, makes my laughter turn to a needy gasp.
His hands move slow and deliberate, helping me untangle.
But he doesn’t rush.
He drags his fingertips over my bare skin as he goes, tracing along my arms, my shoulders, and shivers skate down my spine.
And then we’re still. Just breathing. Just looking.
I can feel his body pressing into mine, his warmth, his strength, and God, I want him.
Every nerve in my body is suddenly awake.
Buzzing with the need to close the space between us.
I pull his head down and catch his lips in a deep, slow kiss.
He groans softly into my mouth like he’s been waiting for this too, like he’s been holding himself back and now he’s finally allowed.
His hands grip my waist, firm and possessive, and heat floods me.
I wrap my legs around him, locking him in, needing more, needing all of him.
He deepens the kiss, and it isn’t just a kiss.
It’s a claim. Hungry and desperate.
It’s every missed touch and every unspoken word, everyI love youthat got lost in the chaos of life, all wrapped up in this moment.
I don’t want to think. I don’t want to talk. I just want to feel him, all of him.
And from the way Dan’s hands move over me, the way his body presses even closer, I know he feels exactly the same.
It happens.
For the first time in what feels like forever, we finally find that deep, mind-numbing, body-resetting kind of sex like we used to.
Quiet, because the kids are down the hall, but somehow that only makes it more intense.
Every touch filled with the kind of want we haven’t let ourselves feel in far too long.
And my God, it’s incredible. There are no distractions. No stress. No overthinking. Just us. A fire rekindled. A spark reignited. A connection that never really left, just buried under years of exhaustion and logistics and resentment.
After, we lie tangled together, skin still buzzing, heart still racing.
Dan’s fingers trace absentminded patterns on my arm, his lazy satisfied grin matching my own.
And in the quiet, with Oakwood asleep around us, I feel something I haven’t felt in a long time.
Wanted.
And for the first time in ages, I let myself believe it:
Maybe we really can find our way back.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
DAN
