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Her husky laugh wrapped around him moments before she enclosed him in her hand. Every muscle in his gut jumped and went taut, his hips shifting in an involuntary thrust. He tightened his other hand in her hair, rubbing her scalp.

“Holy hell, I love the way you touch me.” His voice rough to his own ears, he turned his head and pressed his lips to her temple. Already, she burned him down, stroking him, rubbing her palm over the head, until he was hot and tightly wound, so damned ready he couldn’t breathe.

“I love touching you.” She pressed her lips to the center of his chest, between his pecs, over his heart, before kissing her way down his abs. “I love you.”

Kneeling before him, she nuzzled below his navel, and he rested both shoulders against the wall, eyes falling closed, a strangled grunt torn from his throat when she took him into her mouth. He tangled desperate fingers in her hair, wanting to watch her, needing the dark behind his lids to help him stave off an immediate climax.

It had been a long damn time, and he didn’t want to rush this.

His other palm flattened against the tile, he gave himself up to her, the swirl of her tongue, the wet slide of her lips, the firm grip of her hand. He rubbed at her scalp, wrapped her hair around his hand, her small noise of approval vibrating over him.

Heat exploded in his belly, the base of his spine tingling like a hit of electricity. He wasn’t going to last, as badly as he wanted to just live in this moment, with her mouth on him, her hand spread over his abs. Pleasure so strong it hurt raced up his spine, drew his balls tight, seized his lungs as he came, gripping her hair too hard but unable to stop himself.

Chest heaving, he slumped against the wall, caressing the back of her head with unsteady fingers. She rubbed the indent of his abs, and a shaky laugh fell from his lips. Eyes closed, head thrown back, he tried to recapture his ability to breathe, aftershocks jumping in his gut. She rose in a fluid movement and plastered herself to his torso, face buried against his throat. On reflex, he closed his arms about her.

“Good?” she murmured into that spot where she always sniffed him, and he guffawed, working to keep them upright. His thighs trembled like he’d put in five hard miles.

“That’s one word for it.” He opened his eyes, cupped the back of her head, tilted her face so he could see her eyes, clear and unshuttered, glimmering with deep emotion for him. His breath caught all over again. He dipped his head, kissing her, tasting himself on her lips. “Thank you.”

She swept a fingertip along his jaw, stubble rasping under the touch, and he caught a glimpse of her impish smile. “So polite.”

Laughing, filled with a surge of joy so strong he couldn’t stand it, he cupped her face and lowered his head to capture her lips in a hard kiss.

They would be okay. He knew it — hell, he refused to accept any other outcome. He would not lose this, lose her.

He would do anything not to lose them.

“Don’t be mean to me.” He pinched her hip, her husky laugh shimmering over him. He hugged her to him. “Lord, I love you.”

“After that, I’m sure.” Her shoulders shook with a hushed laugh. “You’re such a guy.”

“That was freaking amazing and I appreciate the hell out of you, but that is not why I love you.” He reached for his soap, working up a lather. He loved the spice that clung to her, a result of the custom-blend soap and shampoo she used, but his scent, his soap on her skin? Oh, damn. He smoothed the lather over her. “And you know it.”

“I do.” She relaxed into him, hands pressed to his lower back while he washed her, massaging her neck and shoulders and back. A sigh vibrated between them. “Mmm, that’s nice.”

“Good.” He kissed her temple and tipped her under the spray to rinse while he washed himself with more economical movements.

Out of the shower, they dried off, both of them running through their before-bed routine. The familiarity soothed him, and crawling into bed with her was even better. She tucked her back against his chest, his arm over her waist, his thigh between hers. His muscles ached with the aftereffects of exertion and pleasure, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this relaxed.

They would be okay.

He rested his mouth against her hair, spice and his own scent tickling his nose. He released a long exhale, drawing her closer. Filled with contentment and a sense of everything coming together in their world, he gave himself over to sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Fade Into You

His concentration was shit.

Tick scratched a note on his legal pad, trying to follow the debrief going on around the conference table. The analysis would guide how he assigned teams over the next couple of weeks, so he needed to pay attention — not get lost in flashes of memory, his wife’s hands on him, her mouth, the husky sound of her I love you against his skin. Those moments meant everything, but they weren’t going to help him do his job, either.

With the meeting drawing to a close, he sketched out an overview of who he needed to place where, then rested an elbow on his chair arm, half-listening to Ransome and Everly bullshitting. Phone balanced on his thigh, he tapped out a one-handed text.

You’re hell on my focus

He flicked a glance up, across the table, then typed out a second text.

Sitting in a meeting and all I can think about is you