“Don’t move,” he instructed, and then he rolled off the bed and into his en suite bathroom. I heard the water run and assumed he was washing his hands. Moments later, he returned with a hot washcloth, and then he was cleaning me up, and thesensation of that hot, wet towel between my thighs made me moan in a whole new way.
Shane climbed into bed with me when we were both clean, maneuvering us until we were under the covers and tangled together in the sheets. I laid on my back, and he on his side, his legs weaved with mine, one arm slung over my waist as he balanced his head on the other hand.
“Please tell me we’re not done,” I panted.
He laughed, kissing my nose. “Just taking a little break. I want to look at you.”
“You can’t look at me while you fuck me?”
“Not with a clear head.”
I rolled my eyes, but then my hand was on his chest, drawing circles as I took in everything I’d missed over the years. I traced the dark tattoo ink on his ribs, the dusting of hair over his abdomen, the new, grown muscles that lined his shoulders and arms.
I let my hand drift lower, following the slope of his abdomen to the hard line of his hip. His breath hitched when my fingers brushed the faint, pale scar there — a smooth crescent against his skin, almost easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it.
I traced it slowly, reverently, and felt him still beneath me.
“Can I?” I asked, already shifting, already knowing the answer.
He nodded, his hand sliding to my back as I pushed the covers down and eased myself up onto an elbow. My gaze dropped to his leg, to the knee that suffered a career-ending injury. I ran my fingers over the thin line just below his kneecap — narrow, faded, a whisper of what it must’ve cost him.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” I murmured, tracing it carefully. Then the smaller mark along the inside of his knee. “I’m sorry I pushed you away when you found me that night in Boston.”
“I deserved it.”
“You didn’t,” I argued. “But I was angry and hurt and young.”
He nodded, still rubbing my back. He didn’t rush me as I took in the sight of him, and when my focus shifted more to the thick rod between his thighs, the tension of the moment melted into something more heated.
I crawled my fingertips up, walking them along his thick, muscle-corded thigh and smirking at the parade of goosebumps I caused. I loved the thought of affecting him the way he did me, of bringing him pleasure from my touch.
“Ari,” he warned gruffly when I got close to his shaft.
“Mmm?” I was all innocence, undeterred as I wrapped my hand around him.
His groan was guttural, his head falling back into the pillows. “Fuck.”
Why was that one word exhaled on a breath so hot? Why did I feel so powerful to reduce him to nothing more than a curse word?
“I’ve missed you, too, you know,” I said, my voice low and smooth as I stroked him, base to tip, gathering precum to slick my second stroke. “Your eyes. Your body. Your touch. Your kiss.” I squeezed a little tighter, biting my lip as he rolled his cock into my fist. “This.”
“You’ve thought about me?”
“So many times,” I confessed. “I’d find my hand under my sheets, between my thighs, and you…” I shrugged, like he should know already, like it was nothing to be surprised about.
“Me, too,” he said gruffly, wetting his lips before he flexed into my touch again. “I’ve thought about you so many times. I’ve longed to be inside you, to feel you wrapped around me again.”
It was my turn to moan, those words shooting a spark straight between my legs.
Impatient, I crawled back up to him, straddling his lap in the process. I bent to kiss him long and deep, both of us inhaling a stiff breath when our tongues touched, when that electricity fired again.
“Let’s put our imagination to rest then,” I said, and then I reached between us, fisting his cock and lining it up where I was wet and aching for him.
His breath caught, but his hand slid to my wrist, stopping me only long enough to turn and reach for the nightstand. He kissed me as he fought with the wrapper, and when he was sheathed, we were heat to heat again.
“More like put it to shame,” he muttered.
With a smirk, I lowered down.
