“I have two very little kids.”
“You do?What the hell?When were you going to tell me that?”
She laughed, as he’d hoped she would.“Be serious.”
“I’ve never been more serious about anything than I am about you and us and your kids and all of it.”He was already hard again and began to move slowly, drawing a groan from her.“Especially after this.You’ve got me completely addicted to all things Isla.”
“I’ve got you addicted?What about that wizardry you perpetuated on me?”
“Was there wizardry?”
“There were two orgasms.That’s wizardry to me.”
“So you hadn’t…”
“Hardly ever, and he didn’t care if I did or not.”
“That’s a goddamned crime.”
“Thus the tears.”
“Sweet, sweet Isla…” He kissed her as he replaced the condom and made love to her again, already addicted to everything about her.“You deserve all the good things, everything…”
If the first time was fast and frantic, this time was about slow, sweet, eyes-connected intensity that seared him all the way to his soul.
He was in deep trouble with this woman, and he’d never been happier to be in trouble.
ChapterTwenty-Five
With Julian wrapped around her after a second round of thrilling lovemaking, Isla stared up at the ceiling, processing what’d transpired in his bed.To call it life-changing would be dramatic but true.Her entire body hummed with sensation after three orgasms.
Three!
She hadn’t thought that was even possible for her until he’d shown her otherwise.
While she ought to feel guilty about being naked in a bed with another man less than twenty-four hours after her husband passed away, guilt was the last thing on her mind.She’d done everything humanly possible to make the best of a horrible situation, and she’d be damned if she’d feel bad, sad or guilty about feelinggoodfor the first time in forever.
She ran her hand over his hairy forearm to a muscular bicep and shoulder.
He was a finely built man with muscles in all the right places.She’d never seen actual washboard abs until he’d removed his shirt, revealing a sculpted chest and abdomen.How did he manage that when he worked an ungodly number of hours and played in a band after work?
She couldn’t wait to ask him that and the million other questions it would take to fully know him the way she wanted to.
In the back of her mind was the nagging concern that came from Denny’s warning to not lose her head over a man who wanted nothing to do with the sorts of commitments that made up her daily life, including children.What made her different from all the other women he’d run away from when things got too intense?Would he do that to her, too?He’d said he wouldn’t.He’d told her this was different.Did he always say that to women, or did he mean it?How would she know?
Every minute she spent with him, especially the last two hours’ worth of minutes, had her more invested in whatever this was, and if it suddenly went away, if he suddenly went away, she’d be devastated.He’d brought light and joy and hope into her life in the short time she’d known him, and she’d become immediately addicted to the high that came with him.
“Stop fretting,” he whispered gruffly.“Everything’s okay.”
“How do you know I’m fretting?”
“There’s smoke coming out of your ears.”
“That is not true!”
He grumbled out a laugh.“It’s very true.I’m choking on smoke over here.”
She elbowed his ribs, drawing a grunt from him.
