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Then she guides me higher.

Permission.

Clear as anything she has ever said.

I kiss her until her fingers tighten in my hair and she whispers my name like she has finally decided it belongs there again.

When she pushes at my belt, I stand long enough to kick off my jeans. Sweet strips out of hers more carefully because of her knees, and the second she winces, I reach for her.

She holds up one finger.

“I can do it.”

I freeze.

Then lower my hands.

“Yeah.”

She finishes on her own.

When she looks up again, her expression softens.

“Thank you.”

That should not feel like getting handed something sacred.

It does.

Sweet slides backward onto the bed.

I follow, bracing my weight carefully so my bad shoulder does not give either of us something new to argue about.

Her hand runs over my chest.

“You're thinking too loudly.”

“That sounds familiar.”

“Mercy is contagious.”

“Terrifying.”

She smiles.

Then her hand slides lower.

Every joke leaves my head.

“Sweet.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“That ain't true.”

“No, but if I explain it right now, the explanation is gonna be filthy.”