Текст книги "Hold On"

Автор книги: Kristen Ashley

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But I felt him working between my legs and then I lost his mouth when my neck arched, my head turning to the side, as he drove in and filled me.

“Arms around me, brown eyes,” he grunted, plunging hard and fast.

I wrapped my arms around him and lifted my knees high.

He pounded in deeper.

“Fuck yeah,” I breathed.

Merry’s fingers curled around the back of my knee, sliding down to my ankle. He swung it in at his back and kept it there.

His other arm braced under me, he lifted up slightly, and watched my body jolt on his dining room table each time I took him.

I slid my hands up, both of them diving into his hair and clenching as other parts of me started doing the same thing.

“Hold on, Cherie,” he grunted.

“Yeah, baby.”

He knew it was happening when my body tensed around him, under him, my pussy grasping when he repeated, “Hold on tight, Cherie.”

I held on tight as I came hard, and I kept holding on tight as he took me harder, driving himself to his own orgasm and taking me along for the ride.

It way didn’t suck, feeling mine hovering while I also felt Merry get his.

It took its time and left both of us, but we didn’t move. We didn’t speak.

So Merry’s face was in the side of my neck when, minutes later, he yet again repeated, “Hold on.”

I squeezed him with everything (which meant everything) as I pointed out, “I am holding on.”

“No,” he whispered against my neck, and the way he said it, it was my heart that squeezed.

He shifted his lips to my ear.

“No,” he said again.

He lifted his head and I righted mine so he could catch my eyes.

He did and he was looking deep when he finished.

“Don’t let go.”

When he said that, that was when everything I had didn’t squeeze.

It spasmed.

We stared at each other and we did it awhile before I lifted my head from the table, touched his nose with mine, then dropped back.

“No flowers,” I whispered.

He closed his eyes slowly.

I held on.

He opened them.

“You’re never gonna get those from me, baby.”

“I can live with that,” I replied instantly.

“My job…anything can happen.”

“I can live with that too.”

“We go the distance, Ethan’s gonna be it, Cher. Don’t want kids. Never did. I see your brown eyes in his face. He’s a great kid. That works for me.”

This was shocking.

It was also a bummer.

Because if we went the distance, I wanted to see his beautiful blue eyes in our kid’s face.

But if he felt he needed to protect our child from the loss he suffered by not having one, I could get that.

Still…

“Is that a bottom line deal breaker, or is that open to discussion at a later date?” I asked.

He started to close down. “Baby—”

I held on tight.

“Merry, I get you need to know I’m where you need me to be. And I promise to do my best to be where you need me to be. But I also gotta know you’re gonna do what you can to be where I need you to be. And there’s a lotta things I like about you, gorgeous. And high on that list is your eyes. You got mine times two. Don’t close the door on me gettin’ the same thing.”

“Even if we made a kid, you couldn’t be sure he’d get my eyes,” he pointed out.

“Your eyes are so beautiful, Merry, it’d be worth the shot.”

Those eyes flashed as his lips grunted, “Jesus.”

“Just sayin’, he or she doesn’t get yours, they’ll get mine, so you’d get that times three.”

Something else flashed in his eyes, surprise and unease.

I’d know why when he asked, “She?”

“I know you’re a badass, babe. But so is Tanner and he made three, one of ’em a girl. And Cal’s one too. He’s made three…so far…and repeat on the girl. It happens. Even a badass’s swimmers can make girl babies.”

“We need to stop talkin’ about this.”

I didn’t let go as I asked, “Why?”

“’Cause I’m bent over my dining room table with my dick inside you, your kid’s at home bein’ watched over by an old lady, and you’re talkin’ about girl babies. I watched Cal endure the torture of helpin’ to raise Keira before she caught Jasper, and Jas didn’t manage to calm her ass down. He just managed to give her a man at her back while she was goin’ wild so she didn’t court too much trouble. And Vi’s sweet as pie. You gave your mom shit. You get a girl, karma’s gonna bite you in the ass and I’d be that girl’s daddy. It’s been a rough night. You took care a’ that. Now you’re practically guaranteeing nightmares.”

I grinned at him. “I’ll take it from this that the door is open to discuss babies at a later date.”

He looked over my head, muttering, “Fuck me.”

“Merry?” I called.

He looked back at me and lifted his brows.

“You mean the world to me,” I whispered.

His eyes flashed again, the emotion rolling over his face, and his hand, still at my ankle holding it around him, tightened.

“I’m not gonna let go,” I promised. “I’m not gonna let you push me away. I’m keepin’ you with me.”

He didn’t answer.

Verbally.

He pulled out, lifted me from the table, and carried me to his couch.

He set me in it and threw an afghan over my naked body before he strolled from the room.

I tucked it around me and watched him disappear down the hall.

I held it around me as I stared at the mouth of that hall until he came back.

My head and body moved to keep my eyes on him as he went to the dining room table, gathered my clothes, and brought them to me.

He dumped them in the couch before he grabbed me again and sat in it, hauling me and his afghan into his lap.

He lifted his hands to my head, using both at either side to slide my hair back before he used both to press my face into the side of his neck.

Only when he got me there did he take one hand away to wrap his arm around me.

“I said some dick shit to you tonight, Cher.”

I pushed closer. “That’s okay.”

“It isn’t,” he returned. “It isn’t, baby. You can give me a lot, but do not let me be a dick to you no matter what we both get is happening.”

This was good advice, so I nodded.

“Gonna apologize to your mom.”

“I think she gets it, Merry.”

“Gonna do it anyway.”

I drew in breath.

Then I nodded again.

“You wanna take a shower here?” he offered. “Or are you good and you wanna get back to Ethan?”

I pushed against his hand on me so I could catch his eyes.

“As long as I know one of my guys is good, I gotta get back to my other one.”

He didn’t break contact. “I’m good, Cherie.”

I studied him.

He looked like Merry. That was it. Maybe a little sexier since he’d come. Maybe a little tired because it was late (and he’d come). And definitely a little bit of cute-Merry was leaking in because he was tired.

Other than that, he was just Merry.

So he was good.

“Then I better get home.”

He nodded, then dipped in to give me a light, sweet kiss.

After that, he lifted me up as he got out of the couch and put me on my feet.

He stood close as I dressed, and when I was done, he took me into his arms to give me a harder, longer, just as sweet kiss.

He also held my jacket for me to put it on.

And last, he walked me all the way down to my car and stood in the spot I’d backed out of as he watched me drive away.

I texted him that I was safe and sound after I’d walked Tilly home and I was behind closed, locked doors, sitting on my bed, ready to get in my pajamas, brush my teeth, and go to sleep.

Good, he texted back.

I put my phone to the nightstand, got in my pajamas, and went to the bathroom to take off my makeup and brush my teeth.

I was in bed and tossing my earrings to the nightstand when my hand hit my phone, the screen illuminated, and I saw I’d missed a text when I was in the bathroom.

I grabbed the phone and read it.

You mean the world to me too.

Moist hit my eyes again.

Good, I texted back.

I’d just turned the light out when I got more from Merry.

Don’t forget that. But more, baby, don’t let me forget it.

I closed my eyes tight.

Then I texted, I won’t.

Now get some sleep, he ordered.

I would if my guy would stop texting me.

He took that to heart, obviously, because I didn’t get a return text.

For some reason, this bummed me out.

I lay in the dark thinking that, which meant sleep eluded me.

Ten minutes later, I heard my phone sound.

I snatched it up.

The world, baby.

I closed my eyes tight again, sucking in a deep breath.

I opened them, reminding myself I was not that woman. She was not me. That shit just wasn’t the way it was.

Then again, I had also not been the kind of woman who felt warm and squishy.

But I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop it.

I had to do it.

So I did it.

I typed fucking xoxoxoxoxoxo and ended that shit with a kissy-face emoji.

I hit send.

Merry didn’t respond.

Regardless, he’d said what he’d said.

So I fell straight to sleep.

* * * * *

It wasn’t until the next morning when I was home from taking Ethan to school that I got the texts.

The first, Ethan get to school okay?

That came from Merry every day.

If he checked in about my kid that he wasn’t around to make sure got to school okay every day, he was so going to make babies.

I just hoped like crazy he’d make them with me.

Merry’s babies: awesomeness.

Giving Ethan brothers and/or sisters: nirvana.

Yep. All good, I replied.

Right, Cherie. And just saying

That stopped right there and I thought he’d hit send early.

I’d find he didn’t when he finished in his next text.

You give me any of that softass xo shit and smiley crap again, I’ll know I lost my bad girl and this won’t make me happy.

I stood there staring at his text, torn between giving in to a shiver and busting a gut laughing.

I picked door number two.

Then I texted, Message received. Have a good day! and I finished that filling his screen with smiley faces, hearts, and a few rainbows.

My phone rang seconds later, and I answered it because it was Merry.

When I did, I found he was a lot more generous than me.

Because when I put my phone to my ear, what poured into it was Merry laughing.

Therefore, happy.

A happy I gave him.

Which made me happy.

And even more determined not ever to let go.

Chapter Sixteen

Already There

Garrett

“You alive in there?”

At Mike’s question, Garrett started and turned his gaze from the computer screen he was staring at across the expanse of their desks to his partner.

“What?”

“Haven’t moved in ten minutes, man,” Mike told him, studying him closely. His head tipped slightly to the side. “You okay?”

Garrett shifted in his chair to fully face his friend.

“Nearly fucked things up with Cher last night,” he told Mike bluntly. “Family dinner at her mom’s, I closed down. Serious. Blanked Cher almost entirely, mostly blanked Grace. Only gave attention to Ethan.”

“Shit,” Mike muttered, continuing to study him.

“Cher came over to my place after, snapped me out of it.”

“Well, that’s good,” Mike said carefully.

Garrett shook his head. “Been seein’ her a week, shit’s already happening.”

“It working?” Mike asked.

“Cher snapping me out of it?”

“No, you and her.”

“Spectacularly.”

He said it. He meant it. It still scared the fucking shit out of him.

Mike nodded, a small smile curving his mouth. “Then hold on to that, man.”

“Mia and me worked spectacularly too, Mike,” Garrett pointed out. “And Rocky and Tanner worked spectacularly.”

“I hear you, but everyone’s young and stupid during their lifetime, Garrett,” Mike returned. “Part of life is figuring out how to grow up and not still be stupid.”

His words were wise. They were also funny, so Garrett let out a chuckle.

While he was doing that, his phone rang. He looked to his desk and was surprised to see it was a call from Cher.

She texted; she rarely called.

Concerned it was something urgent, he nabbed his phone and took the call.

“Baby, all good?” he asked.

“In the world at large, as far as I know, yes. Outside continued war and famine. The men who rule can’t seem to sort their shit out enough to sort that shit out, of course,” she responded and she didn’t shut up. “A woman had that job, shit would be smooth. But we bitches are too busy tearing each other down to worry about war and famine.”

She was being a smartass.

All was good.

Garrett sat back in his chair, grinning at his desk as she continued.

“In my world, also yes. I’m at work. Some guy is retiring and decided his party fare would be liquid, which means we got twenty-five people here and most of ’em are good tippers,” she shared, then carried on, “But in Ethan’s world, it isn’t, seein’ as Mom was supposed to take him and his bud to the game tonight, hang with them there, and bring them back to my pad for some gaming before I take Teddy home. But there’s a waitress sick at The Station and they’ve asked Mom to do a double shift. That’s time and a half plus tips, and in our world, you don’t turn down time and a half plus tips. Vi’s busy. Feb’s workin’. Meems has already got a sleepover with six boys she’s dealin’ with. Dusty’s bustin’ her hump gettin’ ready for that show she’s got comin’ up and—”

Garrett interrupted her. “You want me to take Ethan and his bud to the game.”

“Jessie can watch him,” she told him quickly instead of confirming. “But she’s declared she’s not goin’ to a high school football game unless she’s got at least one of her girl posse with her and no one is available. And Ethan might spontaneously combust if he misses a ’dogs home game. So, yes…”

She paused and he knew she was pulling up the courage to go on, something unusual for her, when he heard the hesitancy in her tone as she finished.

“I know this is a lot and it’s early with us, with you and Ethan. I probably shouldn’t even ask. But I like to give my boy as much as I can give him. And—”

He cut her off again, saying quietly, “Cherie, I can take Ethan and his friend to the game.”

There was another pause before, “Are you sure? You can say no. You can be honest. Anytime. With anything. I can talk to Ethan and—”

Again, Garrett interrupted her. “Cher?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

She surprised him again and did as told.

“Gonna stop by J&J’s, get your keys,” he told her. “You need me to pick him up from school too?”

Now Cher was talking quietly. “Yeah, honey, if you can. I was gonna get him and make him sit in the office here, but you lookin’ after him would be a lot better. When he has to sit in the office, he doesn’t bitch, but I can tell he’s not a big fan of being cooped up there. Is that gonna be a problem with work?”

“No, but he’s gonna have to hang with me and Mike in the bullpen for a couple of hours.”

Another pause, then, “Prepare to be freaked, but you do that, he’ll love you forever. And I mean forever. He might demand his best man mention you during his wedding reception speech, with the possibility of you being that best man, that kind of forever.”

Garrett grinned again at his desk. “And that’s supposed to freak me, why?”

“If you don’t know, not gonna tell you,” she muttered, then louder, “After I get off work, I’ll meet you guys at the game.”

Garrett felt his brows draw together. “Do you wanna go to the game after a shift at the bar?”

“It won’t be long. And anyway, I wanna relieve you from duty. I also gotta get into my house and you’ll have my keys,” she answered.

“Watchin’ the Bulldogs play ball is hardly ‘duty,’ brown eyes,” he informed her. “Go home. Put your feet up.”

“Merry—”

He rolled back from his desk, leaned down, elbows to his knees, eyes to the floor, focus now entirely on his girl so he could reassure that girl.

“Guys’ night out,” Garrett said softly. “I got Ethan. We’ll talk man shit and I’ll feed him and make sure he and his bud are good. I’ll get them home. You finish your shift, go home, relax, unwind, prepare, ’cause I want my girl rested and ready for our Saturday.”

Cher said nothing.

When this went on too long, he called, “Baby?”

He heard her clear her throat before she told him, “I have a spare set of keys in my junk drawer in the kitchen. Ethan can show you. Could you drop them by J&J’s sometime before the game so I can get in while you guys are out?”

“Absolutely.”

She again didn’t reply.

So he asked, “You okay?”

“No.”

It was a whisper and his focus sharpened.

“No?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “Ethan’s gonna love this. Guy time. Man talk. Showin’ you off to Teddy. And I love it, knowin’ I don’t gotta say he can’t have somethin’ he wants because I gotta work and I can’t find anyone to give it to him. So no, Merry, I’m not okay. This is not an okay feeling. This feelin’ is me bein’ fucking happy.”

His throat closed, his chest tightened, and his first reaction was to disconnect the call. But at the same time, his gut had warmed because it felt so damned good just giving Cher that emotion and also doing it knowing she hadn’t had a lot of it in her life.

He powered past his first reaction and told her, “I’ll walk down to the bar in a few to get the keys, babe. Yeah?”

“Yeah, gorgeous. See you then.”

“Later, Cher.”

“Later, Merry…and thanks, honey.”

“No problem.”

He disconnected, straightened in his chair, and rolled back to his desk. He felt Mike’s gaze, so he lifted his to his friend’s.

“Take it we got a ten-year-old for ride-along this afternoon,” he remarked.

“If that’s gonna be a problem for you—” Garrett started.

Mike shook his head. “Ethan’s a good kid. We’re in doin’ paperwork, so he’s not stopping us from doin’ shit we need to do. And not like he hasn’t hung with the guys before.”

That was true. It hadn’t happened often, but on occasion over the years when Cher needed him because there was no one else to help, Colt had brought Ethan in.

Garrett looked across the room.

Colt was sitting at his desk, grinning at something Sully was saying, Sully sitting across from him.

She hadn’t asked Colt.

She’d asked Garrett.

That felt great.

And it made him uneasy.

“Kid’s a good kid,” Mike said, and the change in his tone caught Garrett’s attention. “Woman’s a good woman. I believe in you, brother. Sittin’ across from me is a man who hasn’t had it all. A man who thought he did and lost it but learned different. Who’s watched his friends make poor decisions and bounce back. Who now has a shot at gettin’ it all and is old enough not to be stupid.”

That meant a lot, coming from Mike.

But Garrett wasn’t going to share that.

Instead, he grinned and gave him shit.

“You should be a therapist, Mike. Open your own clinic. Call it ‘Don’t Be a Dumb Fuck Treatment Center.’”

Mike grinned back, returning, “You bein’ my first client, thinkin’ of adding, ‘How Not to Be a Smartass.’”

“That might be a tougher addiction to kick,” Garrett told him.

“You might be right. Though, this line of work, run into a lot more dumb fucks than smartasses.”

“Truth,” Garrett muttered.

Mike’s phone on his desk rang.

He turned his attention to it, so Garrett quickly called, “Yo.”

Still going for the phone, Mike’s gaze swung back to him.

“Thanks, brother,” Garrett said low.

Mike lifted his chin.

Then he answered his phone.

* * * * *

Late that night, standing at her door, Cher in his arms, Garrett broke the kiss that had started five minutes ago as a good-night kiss and became a make out session.

He caught her eyes through her half-mast lids and whispered, “Late, baby. Gotta get home. Let you get to bed.”

Her hands slid down from his hair to rest on his chest as her lips went slightly pouty.

It was cute.

But it was more sweet, her pout saying she didn’t want him to leave.

“Okay,” she muttered but didn’t move out of his arms.

“You dropping Ethan at his friend’s at five thirty tomorrow?” Garrett asked.

She stayed in his arms and nodded.

“Be here at six to take you to dinner. Be prepared to spend the night at my place,” he ordered.

She grinned in a way that was not cute or sweet but something a fuckuva lot different.

Before that grin made him hard, he gave her a squeeze and said, “It was a good night, baby.”

She continued to look into his eyes as she pressed closer. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, because it was.

Ethan was a good kid. Ethan liked him. And Cher had not been wrong. He’d soaked in guy time, man talk, and he didn’t hide the pride he felt having Garrett around and showing him off to his bud.

It did not suck.

It felt fucking great.

Which, at the same time in his fucked-up head, was fucking terrifying.

Because if he fucked this up, it wouldn’t be fucking over Cher, which was bad enough.

It would be fucking them both.

Again, he powered past that feeling and offered, “You need me anytime to step in with Ethan, if I can do it, I’m there.”

Cher didn’t respond except to drift a hand up his chest to wrap it around the side of his neck and rub her thumb gently along the column of his throat.

That said something, though.

And her eyes said something too.

They were warm and happy.

He put that there. He gave her that.

And that felt fucking great too.

Just as it was downright terrifying.

He focused on her look.

He focused on her touch.

He focused on her soft body pressed to his.

He focused on the night he had with her boy, which moved on to a night spent with her, her boy, and his friend.

He focused on how he and Ethan and Cher were getting comfortable with each other. How Garrett liked the way she teased her kid. How he liked the way Ethan’s friend looked at Cher like he wished he was twenty-five years older and could slide a ring on her finger. How natural it was for her to balance having her man there with giving her son and his bud their kid time, all this while giving Garrett attention, Ethan attention, and ribbing Teddy, giving him attention.

And focusing on all that, he reminded himself not to be a dumb fuck.

Finally, she spoke.

“I think, you’re down with it, we should discuss another waffle morning. Maybe next weekend,” she suggested.

He gave her another squeeze. “You’re good with that, you think Ethan’s good with that, we’ll do that.”

She pressed closer and smiled.

He dipped his head and kissed her again. Another good-night kiss that turned into a five-minute make out session.

With effort, he ended it, touched his lips to her jaw, lifted one hand so he could slide his fingers along where he’d touched his mouth, and let her go.

“’Night, brown eyes,” he murmured.

“’Night, Merry,” she replied.

He turned and pushed out the storm door. Once out, he twisted to see her in it, watching him go.

He gave her a look.

She rolled her eyes and did what his look told her to do. She locked the storm, stepped back, closed the front door, and he heard that lock go.

Only then did Garrett start down the walk.

Instinct made his head turn.

When he did, he saw the guy he’d seen the night he’d come to take Cher on their first date. He was standing in his drive, leaned over a car that was running, arms on the roof of the car, attention to the driver’s side window.

Two men were in the souped-up muscle car. Nissan GT-R.

Big-ticket car for that ’hood.

And a late-night discussion in the cold.

The man could be saying good-bye to friends who were leaving after coming over and having a few beers.

But it didn’t look like that and Garrett had been a cop a long time, so he knew it wasn’t that.

And he didn’t like the feeling his gut told him it was.

Garrett kept watching as he made his way to his truck at the curb.

The guy must have felt eyes on him because he lifted his head.

There was eye contact through the dark and Garrett didn’t break it.

The guy did when he pushed back, looked down, said something to the driver, slapped his hand on the roof, and moved away from the GT.

Garrett beeped his locks, rounded the hood, opened his door, and swung into his truck.

He took his time with firing up his vehicle and putting it in drive.

The GT backed out.

Garrett memorized its plate.

Cher’s neighbor stayed in his driveway like he was planted there. The GT was pulling away and the guy didn’t move.

It was a statement.

This was his turf, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted, and he wasn’t big on attention.

Garrett hit the gas, keeping his gaze on Cher’s neighbor as he did, making his own statement. This meant he saw the neighbor watch him as he pulled away.

He was forced to break contact when he lost sight of him.

He stopped at the stop sign at the end of Cher’s street, saw it was clear, and made his turn.

He did this thinking he’d get a plate on the guy’s truck, the number on his house, and run him and the owner of the GT on Monday when he was back at work.

* * * * *

Saturday Night

Cher drove down on him and he had no choice but to close his eyes, losing the sight of her, naked and riding him, her back arched, arms up, hands lifting up her hair, just like he’d ordered her to ride him.

He clamped his fingers into the flesh of her hips to pin her down as he grunted and exploded, shooting hot and deep into a fucking condom.

She ground into his cock as he kept coming, and only when it started moving from him did he feel her tits hit his chest before the warmth of the rest of her pressed close, her face in his neck, her lips nuzzling his throat.

Garrett was still coming down when he released his hold on her hips and trailed his hands in then up her back. He slid one around her at her shoulder blades and glided the other one into her hair, gathering it gently in his fist to keep her where she was because he liked the feel of her lips at his throat.

“You good?” he asked, his voice thick from sex and gruff from taking most of her weight.

It was a question he knew the answer to. She was good because she’d come before him, and from the looks of it, even if his orgasm had been phenomenal, hers was better.

Fuck, but she got off on the way he liked to play.

He liked control. He wanted what he wanted and enjoyed dominating the situation so he’d get just that.

Most of the partners he’d had liked it too. But they were often hesitant or skittish, locked in their heads, hung up on shit that took time or training to get them past.

He didn’t mind the time or the training, but considering none of them were women he intended to keep, both were eventually a waste.

Cher let loose. Gave it all and gave it up readily. She was with him all the way from the start.

He wanted to spank her ass, she took it, pushed it, came hard for him. He wanted to finger her on his dining room table and watch, she kept her arms over her head and gave it to him. He wanted her to perform by riding him with her body on display, hands in her hair, she took his cock and gave him the best show he’d ever had.

His to toy with.

His to dominate.

Just his.

His.

On that thought, he felt that unease again sour his gut even as his arm around her tightened.

She lifted up her head and caught his eyes. “I’m good, honey.”

Looking into her face, sated, soft, happy, his hand drifted out of her hair to cup her jaw.

“Thanks for dinner,” she whispered.

Fuck, his brown-eyed girl.

The unease loosened when warmth started to invade.

“Stop thankin’ me for everything,” he ordered.

Her lips tipped up. “Thanks for a fuckin’ awesome orgasm.”

“You did all the work,” he pointed out.

She ignored that completely. “Thanks for bein’ shit-hot in bed.”

He shook his head on the pillow and felt his body start shaking too.

“Would suck, you bein’ tall, gorgeous, and knowin’ how to skim walls but a terrible lay,” she remarked.

His shaking turned to audible laughter.

Through it, he asked, “‘Knowin’ how to skim walls?’”

“That’s definitely big points on the guys-that-are-worth-it test.”

He kept laughing even as he asked, “Seriously?”

“Absolutely,” she answered through her smile. “Though, awesome orgasms are bigger points.” She pressed closer, tits to his chest, hips into his. “Much bigger.”

“Just to say,” he started, “wasn’t me who put on the show tonight, honey. You took yourself there. I was just along for the ride. Or I should say, I seriously got off on a great fuckin’ ride.”

She was still smiling, but he saw the pleasure of his compliment hit her eyes as she returned, “If you think straddlin’ you, ridin’ you, and watchin’ how much you like it didn’t have a part in takin’ me there, you think wrong.”

Automatically, his hips bucked slightly into hers as he growled, “Fuck. I’m forty-two, haven’t banged a woman minutes after a woman banged me since I was in my twenties, and now I’m gettin’ hard again when I didn’t even go soft.”

Her brows shot up. “Is this a complaint?”

“Fuck no,” he answered. “But it is me tellin’ you to get off my dick. I need to go to the john and get rid of this fuckin’ condom so I can bang you again.”

She grinned and took her time sliding off of him, which meant she took her time sliding him out of her.

Fuck.

Cher.

Spectacular.

He touched his mouth to hers, rolled off the bed, and headed to the bathroom.

When he hit his bedroom again, he saw she’d tangled herself in his sheets, leg and hip on display, most of her tits too, her hand up to her chest with the sheet barely covering them. All this on her side, body curved, head resting in her other hand, elbow in the pillow, eyes to him.

Or to his cock.

With his age and experience, it wasn’t lost on him that women appreciated what God and genetics had endowed him with.

It was just that Cher didn’t try to hide or be coy about the fact she particularly appreciated it.

He liked the confidence that showed. She was who she was. She liked what she liked. She didn’t fuck around communicating that.

He also liked the look of her tangled in his sheets in his bed.

He memorized that vision instead of standing there and savoring it, because he knew he’d like the feel of her tangled in his sheets and him even better. So Garrett’s dick lost her attention when he slid into bed and pulled her to him, tangling himself up in sheets and Cher.

When he captured her gaze, he asked, “Where we gotta be for me to ditch the condoms?”

She looked confused but answered readily, “Uh…right here, right now.”

“You on birth control?”

She nodded.

“Babe,” he started. “You had a dry spell. I didn’t. You sure you’re good with that?”

“You been careful?”

That was when he nodded.

“So, right here, right now,” she decreed.

She trusted him.

Completely.

Fuck…his girl.

“Sweetheart…” He gathered her closer. “How ’bout I have my annual physical a coupla months early and add a test?”

She made no response.

“Cher—”

She interrupted him with a whisper, her eyes dropping to his lips then his throat.

“Take care of me.”

Garrett didn’t know if that was an observation or a demand.

He again cupped her jaw and put light pressure there so she’d lift her gaze to his.

When she did, he felt no unease. No sour. No tightness.