Oh. Relief floods my muscles and loosens my tongue. “It’s been just me and my Magic Bullet since I ran. And I was clean before that.”
I’m suddenly ready to give him my entire sexual history—what little there is of it—in under ten seconds flat.
“I’m not on birth control, but I haven’t had a cycle in two years, so I don’t think I even could get?—”
“I had a vasectomy after I retired from the Air Force.” He’s already on his feet. A grimace darkens his expression for a brief moment as he shoves the boxers to the floor. “I want this. I wantyou. But only if you’re sure.”
I can’t tear my gaze away from his body. He’s fit. Strong. But with a softness that makes himreal. His abs angle gently into av; his erection juts proudly from his patch of neatly trimmed white curls.
“Natasha?” He curls his arms over his torso, like he’s afraid I don’t like the view. “If you’ve changed your mind?—”
“Get over here.” I scoot to the edge of the bed, spreading my thighs so he can step between them. “I’m sure. I haven’t been this sure ofanythingsince I ran. And I might not be sure of anything else ever again. I want you inside me, Doc. Now.”
He wraps his hands under my knees and gives me a quick tug. I fall back onto the mattress with a yelp. “Next time, I’ll be on top of you.”
His tip nudges my channel. I stare into his deep blue eyes, finding another piece of home in the gold flecks of his irises. “Or I’ll be on top of you.”
The low rumble in his chest is almost feral. Doc’s thick enough to stretch me to the point of pain. But I crave it. Ineedit.
Hooking my leg around him, I dig my heel into his ass and pull him closer. Doc sinks deep in one swift move. I swallow my gasp. “Again.”
With the second thrust, pain gives way to pleasure.
“Again.”
I don’t have to ask a third time. Doc wraps his hands around my hips to hold me still while he pounds into me like a man possessed. “Touch yourself, Natasha. I need you to come with me.”
My hands move to my breasts, twisting my nipples, skating my nails over the tips until sparks of electricity race all the way to my clit.
I’m close. Doc is too. He’s harder now. Thicker. His eyes darken. The veins in his neck cord. I slide my hands lower. I’m so wet. My index finger glides over my clit. Again and again, until I’m panting.
“Won’t last long,” Doc manages. He wraps his arm around me, pulls me up, and climbs onto the mattress.
I cup the back of his neck. We’re eye to eye now. Lines of pain crinkle around his lips, but he’s a man possessed. With a low growl, he quickens his pace. The new angle lets his cock rasp over my clit.
“Let go, Doc. Let go with me.”
He does, and we fly together, higher and higher until I’m not sure we’ll ever come down.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Doc
My ribs ache,but I ignore the pain to hold Natasha close. She runs her hand down my back to my ass, then wriggles out from under me.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I ask and snag her around the waist.
“Nowhere. But I have to know if it’s true. And what side it’s on.” Natasha’s laugh cuts through the darkest clouds. She’s my sun, the center of my world.
She traces her finger along the outline of the green feet inked on my ass. “Fucking hell.That’sall you wanted?” I grab her hand, then roll onto my back to stare up at her. “You know the story?”
“The PJs flew Jolly Green Giant helicopters in Vietnam. Some batshit crazy PJ decided he’d use the symbol from General Mills instead of an outline of a helo?”
She served. Of course she knows the story. I shouldn’t be surprised. Still, I tell her the rest of it—at least as much as I know. “Those particular birds would leave an impression in thebrush that looked a lot like feet. So he wasn’t quite as crazy as everyone made him out to be. Though he was apparently drunk when he got to the tattoo parlor.”
Natasha’s other hand skims up and down my arm, constantly moving, constantly touching me. I draw the blankets over us, needing more time with her before reality intrudes and I call Hidden Agenda. We could have had this for a year. If only we’d trusted one another.
“Gladys is going to have something to say about this.” I twine our fingers and hold her hand against my chest. “Like, ‘I told you so,’ ‘about damn time,’ or ‘what the hell took you so long?’”
