Page 176 of The Sweetest Return

“But I’m better than I was.”

When I opened my eyes again, whatever Imani saw on my face softened hers.

Then she kissed me.

The first touch of her mouth was tender, like she had heard what I said and didn't need to turn it into a solution. My hands stayed at her back while the kiss deepened, and I let it remain soft until she shifted her hips over me and my dick answered before the rest of me could pretend we were only comforting each other.

A groan left my chest.

“Mani.”

Her mouth came back harder.

One palm rubbed across my low cut before settling at the back of my neck, and I slid my hands beneath the Forge shirt, taking in warm skin and the curve of her waist. She shivered when my fingers spread there.

Saturday had been different. A hotel suite, old hunger, eight years breaking open in the same room.

This was my home. My couch. My shirt on her body after she had listened to me admit something I usually kept buried beneath money and work.

I wanted her for the same reason I had wanted her Saturday, but there was something else beneath the heat now. Relief, maybe. Trust. The knowledge that Imani had seen a part of me that wasn't impressive and had moved closer instead of away.

I eased the shirt higher and put my mouth on her breast. The cool metal of her nipple ring touched my tongue, and the sound she made tightened my grip on her hips.

Her body began moving over mine.

I knew that rhythm.

Time had changed her. She was softer in places, more confident everywhere, and there were things about this grown woman's body I was still learning. But I knew when Imani wanted more before she asked for it.

“Dre.”

I sucked harder.

Her hand moved toward my waistband.

I caught her wrist. “Baby.”

She looked at me. “What?”

“You don’t have to.”

Her mouth curved slowly. “I know.”

Then she freed her hand from mine and slid it inside my pants anyway.

The first wrap of those soft fingers around my dick erased whatever argument I had prepared.

“Fuck.”

She looked down between us, then back at my face while she stroked me.

“Dre.”

“What?”

“You’re leaking.”

My head dropped against the couch for a second. “Yeah. I know.”