Page 48 of Surrender

“Need to come.”

“I’m right there.”

Just as a scream erupts from her lungs, I seal my mouth over hers and swallow it down. My own grunt rumbles between us. My hips stutter up into her before I still and yank her down, holding us tight together. She throbs around me, and I pulse deep inside, filling the condom. The thought flits through my mind that I wish I could be fillingher.

Our kissing slows in time to our breathing. Her palm presses hotly to my chest, the other wrapped around my neck and playing with the short strands of hair there.

I open my eyes to find her looking at me, wet streams dividing her cheeks.

I brush a knuckle over the tear tracks. “Did I hurt you?”

She scoffs and shakes her head. “I think you sent me to heaven and back, but you didn’t hurt me.”

A primal part of me swells with masculine pride and something else. A little flutter behind my ribs that I willfully ignore.

“Good,” I whisper and press my lips to the tip of her red nose as she shivers.

I locate her sweatshirt beside us and yank it over her head. She raises her arms. The fabric falls and settles at her waist, reminding me we’re still connected.

“Any idea where my underwear went?”

My fingers slide around her hips to caress her gorgeous ass. “Nope. But you don’t need them until morning.”

A flash of something lights her honey eyes. “Why’s that?”

I slap the right cheek teasingly and roll her off me onto her back. Gazing down at her, I answer, “Because you gave me all night.”

And I’d be a fucking dumbass to cut this short. Even if that means just holding her in my arms until the sun comes up.

13

Whitney

A slight chill sweeps over my skin, threatening to drag me from the deep slumber. My lashes flutter against my cheeks. I refuse to open them. The dream I’m having is too warm, too good to wake from so soon. I snuggle deeper into the blankets wrapped around me, hanging on for as long as possible until my morning responsibilities force me to let go.

Which happens five seconds later when the patter of little feet rouses me instantly from sleep. I pat a frantic hand down my body in search of clothing, breathing a loud sigh as I discover the sweatshirt and underwear covering my behind.

Did Jack put clothes on last night?

I fly into a sitting position and scan the surroundings. No sign of Jack or his clothing. A flutter of white next to me draws my attention to a note on my pillow.

Whitney-

The roads are cleared. I’ve returned to the motel, and thehouseis yours until you find a new place. Good luck with the move. Here’s my number in case anything breaks.

Jack

P.S. Single best night of my life too

The disappointment simmering in my chest is extinguished by a messy-haired toddler falling into my lap.

“Good morning, Lucy.” I push the hair from her eyes. “How did you sleep?”

“Why you on the floor?” She ignores my question and asks her own.

“I fell asleep watching a movie.” I point at the TV. She’s only three, yet my gut still sours with guilt. “Let’s get you breakfast.”

The subject change to food works easily, and she skips off to the kitchen. After using the bathroom, I retrieve Bennett, wide-eyed and babbling in the portable crib, and set about making us all an edible meal.

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