“Two?” she says, surprised.
Yeah, babe. You’ve got no idea what you let yourself in for.
“I got two more for the morning, if we need ‘em.”
Maren smiles at that.
Her eyes follow my fingers as I unfasten my belt and lower my jeans and boxer briefs at the same time.
The hunger in them when I slide beneath the covers and pull her to me is good for the ego. Because a man wants to be wanted, just like anyone else.
I’ve held onto and worked over a lot of naked bodies. Couldn’t even begin to tell you my body count. Skin on skin is a pretty heady thing, but to hold Maren like this is something altogether different. And it’s not just the way her curves fit against mine or the way her softness offsets my hardness. It’s the way she moves with me intuitively.
It’s part temporary insanity, part goddamn magic.
Hands move over shoulders, the heat rising between us as we stay wrapped around each other. And for a woman who just spent ten minutes warning me about broken hearts, she kisses me like she plans on stealing mine.
And I’m gonna have to put a fence around it to make sure that doesn’t happen.
Good luck with that one!
I’m already in bed with the one woman I shouldn’t be here with. The woman who just negotiated the rules of us sleeping together like it was a business deal. And I agreed to every single one of them without any negotiation.
And when she looks up at me, like this is the path to something real, I find it impossible to disagree, no matter how many times I tell myself we’re just banging this out of our system.
I move us so Maren is on her back, and I’m settled between her legs. It’s a risk, not having a condom on, but I don’t want to move yet, because right now, there’s so much of Maren’s body to learn.
As I drop kisses along her collarbone, I notice a scar about an inch long.
“Where’d you get this?’ I ask, stroking over the silvery pink skin with my thumb.
She points in the direction of the dock. “Learning to rollerblade out there.”
“Did you get better at it?”
Maren chuckles. “I did. But there’s an even bigger scar on my knee that I gained during the process.” She touches the large scar I have on my shoulder. “What about yours?”
I glance down at it. “The only time I ever underestimated a guy who brought a knife to a gun fight.”
Her eyes go wide. “Jesus, Knox.”
I grin. “It was a good fucking fight, though.” And with that, I feverishly kiss the skin behind her ear that makes her wriggle and squirm and laugh.
“I’m ticklish,” she cries, and I ease the kisses a little.
“I’m gonna store that detail away for future reference.”
“Fine,” she says. “What’s your weakness?”
I push the hair back from her face. “Right now, it’s pretty girls who own bait shops and secretly paint amazing artwork at night.”
Her smile tugs hard at my heart, and I kiss her again, because I want to taste sunshine.
She slides her fingers through my hair and tugs on it, and while I would never have said I was into that, there’s something about the way Maren does it that makes me feel wanted.
Like I’m not a walking dick, or the president of the club. I’m just Knox, and that’s enough for her.
“I like that we’re taking our time and all,” Maren says.
