She loved him.
He sucked a little harder on her neck, making her eyes roll back in her head.
Okay, not going to think about that right now. Because she didn’t have the bandwidth to get a grip on what was happening to her emotionally and what was happening to her physically.
“You . . . don’t happen to . . . have those . . . hotel condoms?” she said, around choppy, rasping inhalations.
His responding deep, rumbly laughter did things to her, dammit. Like she was being painted with fire.
“I might’ve stuffed one in my pocket before I came in here,” he admitted. “Y’know. Be prepared.”
“Boy Scout?” she said, with a giggle that was wildly disproportionate. It was like she was so filled with effervescent need, it was going to bubble out somehow.
“You know it.”
“Awesome,” she said absently, doing some kissing of her own before tugging at his shirt. “Semper fi, and all that.”
His laughs got louder. “That’s the marines.”
“Oh, fuck it,” she said, then wriggled out of his grasp, turning and grabbing his hand. “C’mon. It’s no hotel bed, and it’s the middle of the damned day, but this is happening.”
“Take me, you wild woman,” he joked, but still moved pretty damned quickly, following her and then scooping her up as they got to the end of the hall. She yelped, then joined his laughter when he dropped her on her unmade bed.
She watched in wonder as he tugged his shirt off, then pulled off his pants, losing the boxer briefs as well. In the late-morning sunlight creeping through her gauzy undershades, she could see every detail of his body. He was solid, chunky, with broad shoulders. His pale chest was firm and substantial, covered in auburn hair that led down to . . .
She gulped audibly.
“That didn’t seem as intimidating in underwear,” she admitted.
He let out a surprised chuckle. “You know,” he said, stretching out on her bed and looking at her with bright gray eyes, “I’ve never had as much fun with anybody as I have with you.”
That warmed her up.
“Your turn, by the way,” he said, nodding at her body with encouragement.
She reached for the hem of her sweatshirt—his sweatshirt, technically—when it suddenly occurred to her that she wasn’t going to have sexy matching black undies and garter-suspended stockings to help her seem alluring. She’d scrubbed off all makeup. Sure, they had wrapped around each other naked the previous night, but she’d dived into bed like a cormorant while he was in the bathroom, and he’d climbed under the covers and shut off the light soon after.
She felt a teeny bit less sexy than she had a second ago.
“Hey,” he said, reaching for her. “What’s up?”
“Was wondering if I could draw the blackout curtains?”
He raised an eyebrow, leaning on his elbow. “Thought we were past this?” He reached for her, and when she hesitated, he made grabby hands, which made her giggle. Slowly, she stretched out next to him.
He engulfed her, kissing the giggles from her lips like a butterfly sipping from a flower, tickling her with his beard . . . which of course made her giggle more, as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“I think you’re sexy, and gorgeous, and amazing,” he murmured, nibbling at her throat. “If you’re going to be self-conscious, I can’t stop you. But you have to know . . . I don’t feel this way about just anybody. Not to, y’know, make it weird or anything.”
She felt her body unwind and start to relax. “Sorry,” she said, biting her lip. “I gained some weight after having Kit, and . . . well, things stretch and sag and, um, readjust.”
“I used to have a different body too. A football body,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. “Are you disappointed that I look like this now?”
She stroked her hands over him, feeling a shiver go through her, matching the small shudder he gave beneath her palms. “Not even a little.”
“Again,” he reassured her, “you don’t have to do—”
“Oh, shush.” She knew, or should’ve known, that Aiden wasn’t like Trev. He wasn’t going to point out that she’d gained some weight, or warn that not wearing a bra around the house would make her sag more, or recoil from stretch marks. The way Aiden was touching her now was almost reverent.
Taking a deep breath, she shucked off the sweatshirt, and wiggled out of her leggings and undies and socks. Then she looked at him, almost defiantly.
His smile was tender and encouraging, and his gaze was fucking hot. He stroked his hands over her, in broad daylight, caressing her and taking note of every time she trembled or let out an inadvertent moan. Before long, she felt feverish and shivery and so turned on her toes curled.
She wasn’t going to say it was like riding a bike, although that would be a funny analogy. It had been a long time since she’d had full penetrative sex with anyone, and considering how enthusiastically she’d responded to him the last time they’d been together, even if they hadn’t “gone all the way,” she was amazed at how easily they seemed to just click. He tasted like cinnamon Altoids and smelled like a rainy morning and gave off heat like a furnace, and she wanted to just rub herself all over him, like a cat in catnip. So she did. She wanted to bathe in the moment, and at the same time, let it rush over her in a shock.
They got close, then closer, then closer still. By the time he was inside her, she could no longer hold on to a thought for more than a second, her body moving on pure instinct, her heart so impossibly full that she thought her chest would burst.
“You all right?” he asked breathlessly, pausing when she froze.
“More than,” she said, then kissed him as he started moving again, grateful for his thoughtfulness even as she felt like she was melting. They moved together, like dancing, until she wrapped her legs around his waist and clutched him tight and shook with her release. He lost tempo, burying himself in her with uneven thrusts until he shuddered and collapsed, propping himself on his arms so he didn’t squash her as his forehead rested against hers. Their harsh, jagged breaths mingled as they looked at each other face to face.
Then she smiled, and he smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
“Hi,” he said.
She snickered. “Hi.” Then nuzzled his nose with hers.
He rolled off her, getting up and going to the bathroom, presumably taking care of the condom. She smiled when he came back, all but bouncing her off the bed when he jumped onto it, causing her to dissolve in laughter and grab him to stay on the bed.
“Wanna watch a movie?” he asked, grinning like a kid.
She laughed even more, then ran her fingers through his hair. “Yeah. But I get to pick.”
“Then, I was thinking . . . maybe I could make you lunch.” His gray eyes were so gorgeous, and his smile made her feel like she’d swallowed the sun.
“Mmmm.” She kissed him. Because she could. And it felt amazing.
“And then,” he said, cuddling her to his chest, “maybe . . . if you’re up for it . . .”
“We could do that again?” She buried her face in the juncture of his neck and shoulders as he chuckled. “Absolutely yes.”