Page 110 of Out of the Cold

He headed down the hall and lay Lucy on their king-size bed. By the time he’d shed his own long underwear, she was naked too.

“I feel sorry for everyone who isn’t me,” she said, reaching for him.

He paused at the side of the bed, humbled into stillness. No matter how many times they came together, it was always somehow new, exhilarating but safe. Like skiing down the steepest mountain toward home.

He climbed in beside her and pulled the covers over them both to warm her chilled skin, then moved lower. Holding her hips, he dipped his head and tasted her, savoring her moans and all the cues she gave him.

When she was panting his name and pulling his hair, he crawled up her body, kissing her satiny skin as he went.

“That day I spent hours wondering what I’d do first if I got another chance. Taste those tight little nipples”—he pulled one into his mouth, sucking and tugging until she writhed beneath him—“or your sweet honey pot.”

“Honey pot? Seriously?”

He moved his hips then, gliding through her wetness until she groaned. “But really, I knew I’d kiss you first. Because I hadn’t done that nearly enough our first time.”

“Gabriel, I swear to God—”

He kissed her then, swallowing her threats.

She was trembling all over. She’d already been exhausted when he started this. Maybe he ought to go easy on her.

He smoothed her hair back from her face. “I’ll give you whatever you want, babe,” he said, entering her in one slow thrust.

The image of her standing before him that day, shivering and in need of help, merged with their first wild encounter against the wall. He wanted her in every way possible, every way she would have him.

He was lost in her silken heat, too far gone to tease or draw her further out. Soon she was pulsing around him, and he let himself go, groaning into her neck as he found his own throbbing climax.

“Good grief,” she muttered into his hair.

He lifted his head and smiled down at her. “That’s not exactly the sweet nothings I was hoping for.”

“You get plenty of those,” she said, running her fingers down his back.

He kissed the smile in the corner of her mouth, next her neck, and finally the little valley between her breasts before rolling off her.

“Where are you going?” she murmured, her eyes already closed.

“Letting Hilde out. Back in a second.”

“Mm, okay.”

Hilde was lying right outside their door. She looked up at him with a long-suffering look.

“Such a good girl,” he said, giving her an ear scratch.

He’d loved Hilde before she saved him, but now, well, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her. She got the best treats, the longest walks, and the highest praise.

He let her outside, then watched from the window as she did her thing. Too cold to be out there when he was buck naked.

It was good to be here alone with Lucy after the craziness of the holidays. Their trip to Florida to spend Thanksgiving with her family had been great, but also full of flight cancelations and delays, and then there was Christmas with his family and the New Year’s Eve party they threw.

The New Year’s party had been his idea, and possibly overkill, but they’d had a great time.

Tomorrow was the anniversary of Ricky’s death, and he wasn’t going to fall apart. He still mourned him every day, but he’d come to terms with his loss in a way he hadn’t thought possible.

Lucy had bought a candle that would burn for twenty-four hours in his memory. He’d light it in the morning and check in on Teresa, and then he’d let himself remember the amazing times he and Ricky had shared together.

Opening the door, he called Hilde in, then headed back to Lucy.

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