Page 62 of Shea's Hero

“Yes?” He draws out the word.

“Fine. I’m impatient. It’s been a long time, Oll. And I’ve missed being with you. A lot. I’ve been thinking about this for weeks.”

The cocky smile on his face dissolves, turning to something softer. “I’ve missed making love to you, too.” A pause, and then, “Why don’t you go in the bedroom and get ready? And I’ll get everything together.”

“Yes.” It’s all I can do not to sprint into the guest room to change. Instead, I manage a leisurely jog while Oliver chuckles behind me.

Once I get into the bedroom, I peel off my clothes and hurry to the dresser, trying to figure out which of my new lingerie sets to wear. Because yes, I may have done a little shopping for those, too.

Before Oliver, I never cared much about lingerie or looking sexy. And in the few short relationships I had before him, I never got that excited about sex, either. It was just… okay. Pleasant, at best.

But with Oliver? It’s something else entirely.

That’s one of the reasons I’m so eager for this—the magic that seems to take over when we come together, and the sensations I’ve never felt except with him.

And then there’s the intimacy of it, that moment when we’re joined and it feels like we’re only two people in the world. When the only thing that matters is me and him.

I missed it. Terribly. And now that it’s about to happen again… Yeah. I’m pretty darn excited about it.

“Shea.” Spinning around, I find Oliver standing in the doorway, champagne in one hand and a small bottle in the other, a bowl of strawberries tucked under his arm. His face brightens. “I could get used tothis.”

Oh. Crap. The lingerie.

Which I’m not wearing, because I got distracted thinking about making love to Oliver.

So instead, I’m just standing in front of the dresser, naked.

Notwearing any of the cute slash sexy lingerie sets I bought in anticipation of this moment.

“I was going to put on one of these,” I reply, gesturing at the open dresser drawer. “But I got distracted.”

Oliver doesn’t even look at the contents of the drawer. His gaze is glued to me instead. “Well.” He coughs. “I think you look just fine like this.”

Then he walks into the room and sets everything on the bedside table before walking over to me.

Not walking, really. More like stalks. Prowls.

His features are hard. Not from anger, but desire. Hunger. Need.

“Shea.” His hands come to my waist, big and warm and just the slightest bit rough. “You look… gorgeous. No. More than that. Breathtaking. Stunning. I just… I thought I remembered. Sometimes I’d dream about you. But having you in front of me, like this… it’s beyond anything I dreamed.”

“Oll.” My heart flutters. Where he touches me, my skin feels electrified. Heat pulses at my core. “I’ve dreamed of you, too.”

And I have. Many, many times. Of Oliver like this, dressed in his usual casual outfit of jeans and a button-down shirt rolled up to display his very sexy arms. And of Oliver without any of it, gloriously naked with all his muscles on display. I’ve dreamed about his golden skin dusted with dark hair, trailing down his stomach and below his waist, drawing my gaze to his arousal, thick and velvety smooth and ready for me.

Most often, I would think about the way he used to look at me, like I was this unexpected gift he’d been given, and he couldn’t believe his luck.

But really,I’mthe lucky one. Because against all odds, I have him back.

Oliver stares at me, his gaze moving across my body. “I don’t even know where to start first.”

“Well, you could start by taking off your clothes,” I offer. “Then we’re both naked.”

His lips twitch. “That’s true.”

I reach for the button at his waistband and unfasten it, then draw the zipper down. My fingers graze his jutting arousal, and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Shea.”

“Yes?” Next, I work on the buttons of his shirt, revealing his golden skin inch by inch. “Is this okay?”

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