Page 86 of The Reborn

Instead of answering, she leaned down to kiss me, sliding her wetness along my length as her tongue slid along mine.

God, what she did to me.

Things were slower this time, still intense, but something darker and deeper pulsed between us as she rode me with our hands intertwined in a tight hold, our eyes locked on each other.

I had no idea what was happening, I didn’t want to think too hard or try to put words to something that was unnamable. For once, I decided to just roll with the wave of sensation that coursed over me, seeming to fill us both as we thrust and pumped and kissed until we reached our peak together, her soft cry filling the air as I emptied myself into her.

She collapsed onto my chest, and I held her close, letting my hands trail along her back.

Nothing had ever felt like this with Tricia—my high school sweetheart and my wife. Not even close. And that was a real mindfuck. I wasn’t even sure which way was up anymore where Olivia was concerned. All I knew was the need to be near her and protect her was so much more than a paycheck to me at this point. It had been for a while now, I just didn’t want to admit it.

A few minutes later, she pressed a kiss to my chest, then turned to look up at me with sexy, sated eyes. “So, I don’t want to presume, but does this mean you’re moving back in or...?”

“Or?”

She shrugged. “Or... I don’t know. This is all new territory for me.”

I huffed out a laugh. “Me, too.”

“I’m relieved to hear that, actually.”

“What, that I haven’t slept with other clients?”

“Yes.” She laid her head back down and began to trace my tattoo in the dark. “I mean, it’s none of my business if you have, but—”

“No, never. I’ve steered one hundred percent clear of any entanglements. Until you.”

“Why make an exception for me?”

I heard the vulnerability in her voice, and I knew I could break her. It was also clear to me now how much damage this Christoph had already done so I knew how much she was trusting me with. “Honestly? I really don’t know. It’s not like women haven’t offered before. I just haven’t been tempted enough to cross that line. But with you... You’re just so damn perfect.”

She scoffed. “I am far from perfect.”

“Perfect to me.” Perfect for me, my mind screamed. “Beautiful, inside and out. Sweet and smart. A great mom. But more than that, there’s just something about you that calls to me.” I ran my fingertip over the delicate Hebrew symbol tattooed on her hip. “It’s like my soul knows your soul.”

I have no idea where the words came from. It was like someone else took over my body because I never spoke like that. I wasn’t some Romeo who waxed poetic with fancy ideas about beauty and souls. Still, I had come to understand that it was the truth and she deserved to know.

Her eyes were shiny with glistening tears as she gave me the sweetest of smiles just before she leaned in and gave me a gentle kiss. “Same.”

That night after she found me outside in my truck, I spent the night in her bed, making her come as many times as I could until she was putty in my hands and fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. We slept in on Saturday morning and I did move back in. Though moving in really meant tossing my duffel bags of stuff back into her spare room from my truck and remaking my guest bed—though I had a sneaking suspicion I might be spending more time in hers than mine now that we’d had a taste of what it felt like to be together. I’d never push her though. I fully understood she had a child to consider, and I couldn’t be her priority.

I had no idea what would, or could, come of all of this, but I was willing to see it through. I had at least until the case was over, which was as good of an excuse as any to stick around and touch her more, and I’d take it for now.

After a quick shower, I found her in the kitchen, back in that sexy silk robe, at the stove. I sidled up behind her and tucked my nose into the sensitive flesh between her jaw and ear, inhaling deeply. “Smells good in here.”

She leaned back into me. “Mmm . . . hungry?”

I cupped her hip in my hand as I kissed her throat. “Starved.”

“You’re insatiable.”

“You have no fucking idea.”

She was smiling when she turned toward me, lifting a spoon toward my mouth. “Taste, Hottie Pants.”

“That’s Mr. Hottie Pants to you.” But I obeyed and took a bite. “Delicious. What is it?”

“The start of a tomato sauce for our dinner tonight.”

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