Page 89 of Mountain Hero

“It’s okay,” I repeat between gentle kisses to the top of her head. “It’s okay. It’s over.”

After another minute, Winter lifts her head to look at me. Her eyes are pink and glassy, but her cheeks are dry. “I know,” she replies softly. Then more firmly, “I know. We did it.”

“Ah, hun.”

My throat goes thick.

“We did it,” she repeats. “Both of us. We were a really good team.”

Oh. My heart.

My love.

“You’re right.” As police cars careen up the driveway, I lean in to capture her lips. “We are a really good team.”

CHAPTER 23

WINTER

I guess I’m ordering a new set of lingerie for Halloween.

We were getting ready and Enzo was watching me while I sorted through my dresses trying to decide which one to wear. Then he spotted the three piece set hanging just behind them—bikinis and a bra made of black lace and orange satin trim with a filmy black negligee to cover them. Immediately, he perked up and wanted to know what it was, and judging from the bulge in his pants, something else perked up as well.

I tried to put him off, but he wheedled and pleaded until I finally agreed to try it on for him. “Just for a second,” I told him sternly. “It’s for Halloween. You weren’t even supposed to see it.”

“Then why is it in the closet?”

“Because I didn’t think you’d pay attention to my clothes?”

His lips quirked. “Winter. I pay attention to everything about you.”

So I had to try it on. How could I not when Enzo said something like that?

“Just for a second,” I reminded him sternly. “Then I need to get ready.”

“Absolutely.” He gave me a small salute. “Whatever you say.”

Technically, he stayed true to his word. But it’s because he took one look at me, growled low in his throat, then scooped me up and nearly sprinted to the bed. In a matter of seconds, he was peeling off the lingerie and trailing hot kisses across the bare skin left behind.

Not that I’m complaining.

I’m never going to complain about making love with Enzo. Not when I get to look at his gorgeous arms flexing as he braces himself over me, the ripple of his gazillion abs, that broad chest dusted with the soft fuzz I love to run my fingers across…

I’ll never complain about feeling him moving inside me, a perfect combination of hard and soft, plunging deep and filling me completely. Or how he knows just how to touch me—with his fingers, his mouth, his tongue—to send sizzles of pleasure and arousal all through my body.

And his eyes; the way he gazes at me with love and desire and desperate need, like he’s not whole unless I’m with him.

I know that’s how he’s feeling because he tells me every time. No matter when or where or how long we take, Enzo always gathers me into his arms at the end and murmurs, “I’ll never get enough of you. I love you. You’re everything to me.”

Then I tell him the same thing. Because it’s the truth. I never believed in soulmates until I met Enzo. Now I do.

“I love you,” Enzo groans as he sinks into me again, lifting my hips so he can go even deeper. Then he withdraws and I make a small sound of dismay before he plunges back in again. As he bottoms out, filling me even more this time, my inner walls flutter around him.

The promise of ecstasy is right there, but I’m not ready. It feels too good to have Enzo so deep inside me.

I never knew before.

I never knew I could want this all the time. Not just the sex, which is amazing, but the closeness. The trust. The overwhelming love. The knowledge that I finally found my perfect match.

---