Page 137 of Luck Be Mine
She straddled Hunt’s lap and pulled her navy flowered shirt over her head. Her blue lace bra brightened his eyes. “Can we change that word? How about reaction instead of fault.”
“Sugar-coat it, you mean. I got lost.” He traced the edge of her plunging bra, his fingers scorching delicate skin.
She gripped his face. “I always have you, and you always have me.”
He swept her hair from her eyes. “I didn’t forget. I’ve had to fight my way through some things. Thanks for pulling me out.”
She leaned in and kissed her way across his jaw, then collapsed against him to tuck her face against his neck. Covering the tears and the lingering fear was a necessity. She wanted him, all of him, to come back to her. No hesitation.
He rubbed her back again, the motion soothing. She bit her lip and sighed when he slipped his hands over her bottom. He teased her hips, brushed the sides of her breasts, and, in one move, unhooked her bra.
“Love this, but…” He coaxed her from the scrap of lace and smiled. “This reminds me of our first time in Afghanistan. You shucked your shirt and left me stunned with the most beautiful view of pale skin and pretty breasts.
She softly chuckled. “I didn’t plan that. It felt right.”
“I didn’t come to your quarters with an intent to get laid.”
He smelled of aftershave and spice, and she had no defense against the rush of tingles and wanted none. “Meant to be.”
“Truth.” His lips swept her throat, hands cupping her breasts. He ran a line of kisses over the scar on her temple, then plundered her mouth, tasting and biting, soothing and claiming.
The delicate thread between them fought to mend.
She broke away, touching his cheeks, brows, and mouth. “You always make me feel wanted and safe.”
He hesitated, vulnerable, too. “You always get me, and it’s damn spooky.”
“Since the beginning.”
“Since the first spark, luck was mine.”
“Ours.”
The rainfall echoed from the ping on the roof, but she focused on removing clothes and kissing every inch of her husband. Each new scar and all the old ones got deliberate attention.
Hunt eased her under him, and she arched, seeking the weight, the warm skin, the love radiating in the moment. His lipstouched her nipples with tantalizing licks, exploding heat across her senses.
He read her. She didn’t have to ask.
He slid between her legs and entered in one easy thrust, uniting with her like she was his lifeline. “Cait…”
“Take us there, love,” she whispered.
Words fell away. Hunt found the intense rhythm she needed, and she gave to him in motions transmitted by heart and touch. Tighter, spiraling higher, she absorbed his moans, each murmured word, every thrust until pure love shivered through her, tumbling them both to bliss. Hunt collapsed on her, grasping her hand in his.
She slipped an arm around his waist and held him close.
“Never ever letting you go,” she whispered.
He squeezed her hand. “I’ll never forget again.”
The rain had stopped. Hunt pulled a loose blanket from the end of the bed and covered them both.
“Thank you for a wonderful day,” she whispered, wanting to keep their cocoon quiet.
“Let’s finish it.”
“How?”
