Page 31 of Hard to Lose

The best part about being busy all the time is that sex is just that. A physical need to satisfy. I don’t have time to get tangled in relationships. Hell, I don’t even want to.

So this is perfect for me. Some physicality on a quick trip to Destiny Falls. Some satisfaction and a mind-blowing release—or five—to revel in.

Can’t complain in the least.

And the moment that thought crosses through my mind, Gunner shifts beside me and the memories from last night come back vividly.

I smile. How can I not after I had one of the most memorable and unique evenings I’ve had in some time?

Shifting on my side, I study Gunner again.

There’s something to be said about a man by his touch. A woman knows it from the moment he lays a hand on her. Greed is easy to identify. Selfishness too. But when a man knows how to touch a woman well—there’s enough pressure but not too much. Friction applied intermittently. A well-timed kiss with alternating intensity. The reverence in how he runs a hand over your body in foreplay juxtaposed with how he grips your hips when he’s driving you both to bliss.

There is definitely something to be said about a man’s touch when he’s tuned in to the woman he’s with. And Gunner no doubt knows how to touch a woman.

It’s a rarity for sure.

Gunner sucks in a breath of air and jolts up in the bed, startling the hell out of me. “Oh my God, I’m going to be late.” Then he looks to his side and the sexiest, sleep-drugged smile slides onto his lips. “Good morning. I should start with that.” He reaches out, takes my hand, and presses a kiss to the center of my palm. “I should most definitely start with that,” he says and runs a hand over my ass and up my back.

Ache sparks to life from his fingers. Need that I thought was sated isn’t far behind.

“Morning,” I murmur. My smile is automatic.

He leans forward and presses a kiss to my bare shoulder before climbing out of bed. “I’m sorry to do this to you,” he says as he walks toward his closet, “but I’ve got to get going, or else I’m going to be late for work.”

“Work?” I ask, sitting up in bed cross-legged, comfortable in my own nudity and not caring that the sheet is solely covering my bottom half. “The bar is open already?”

“No.” He looks over his shoulder and catches me checking him out. He grins. “My other job. Or rather I should say where I volunteer. I mean—I mentor boys who have lost a parent in combat. It’s nothing really. Just . . .”

I don’t hear the rest of his words. The ones that explain how his volunteering isn’t a big deal because I’m too busy realizing that he’s genuinely real. That good guys, unicorns like him, really do exist.

And I don’t even know how to react or what to say as he pulls out clothes to wear. He was right last night. I am used to selfish assholes. To pricks. Ones worried about if they’re going to get enough time in at the gym after work, let alone make life better for a kid.

Hell. What is Gunner doing with me when I’m probably just as self-absorbed as the men I typically date?

From now on when someone says good guys don’t exist anymore, I’m pointing them in the direction of Destiny Falls.

“That’s incredible,” I murmur as he looks back over his shoulder and smiles again.

“Not really. It’s just . . . it recharges my tank in a sense. I get as much out of it as they do. Or at least I hope they do.”

“Still, it’s . . .” My words fade when he turns to face me and for the first time, I’m met with the tapestry of scars that crisscross over his chest. They reflect a horror story all on their own that leaves the utter devastation to one’s imagination.

My eyes lift up to meet his and he offers me a shy smile. “I know they’re hard to look at.”

“No. You are definitely not hard to look at,” I say. “Seeing them just makes me think of probably a million things you had to go through to first get them, and then heal, from whatever caused those scars.” His expression softens as emotion swims in his eyes. “It means you were stronger than whatever it was that tried to hurt you.”

“Not stronger,” he says with a slight chuckle. “Just lucky.”

His humbleness is on display again and it brings me back to last night. The vulnerability I felt standing there naked in front of him, and I can imagine he feels ten times more than that every time someone sees his scars.

“Well, I’m the lucky one,” I murmur as I sit up on my knees and pull him against me for a long, slow kiss. A kiss that restokes the embers left burning from last night.

“This is a cruel joke,” he says against my lips as I feel his dick hardening against me. “Leaving a beautiful, naked woman alone in my bed is definitely a cruel joke.”

His lips meet mine again as his hands cup my ass and pull me against him. Christ Almighty, how are either of us even physically able to consider another round?

His groan reverberates around the entire room. “I need to take a shower.” Another kiss. Another scrape of his teeth against the underside of my jawline. “They’re counting on me.”