Page 60 of Truck Stop Tempest

“Slade said you could sleep upstairs in their spare bedroom while I’m gone.”

A huff. “Tito. I’m a big girl. I can handle bad dreams.”

“There’s not much you can’t handle.” I grabbed her ass and scooted her closer, bringing her soft warmth to my hard heat. “What did your mom want today?”

“My womb.” There was no hiding the pain that truth caused.

“God, that’s so fucked.”

She circled her arms around me and dropped her head to my shoulder. Swear to Christ, a fifth chamber grew in my heart just for her. How had I lived without this connection?

“How long will you be gone?”

“A week. Give or take a day.”

“What will you be doing?”

“Working with Tucker.”

“On the road?”

God, I hated having to say, “It’s confidential.”

My girl didn’t probe. Instead, she sat back, hands on my shoulders and mustered a stern glare. “Promise me something?”

“Yeah, Bunny.”

“Be careful. They haven’t caught the Rest Area Reaper. The last two attacks happened in Idaho.”

I held my laughter at bay, but I couldn’t contain my smile. She worried about me. Shit, if she only knew. I wished I could tell her the truth. Tucker was the Reaper. “You have nothing to worry about. You said it yourself, I’m indestructible.”

She gnawed her bottom lip, shooting a glance over my shoulder. “I should get back to work.”

“Kiss me first.”

Tuuli tilted her head, a playful smiling highlighting her face. She scooted higher up my thighs, then leaned forward and fisted my shirt before crushing my mouth with an enthusiastic assault. Her legs curled around my waist, her arms around my neck, and her tongue swept over mine. I absorbed her affections, giving her full rein, and damn did she rise to the occasion, pressing her full weight against me, rolling her hips, grinding, kissing me deep, and slow, and with more passion than any person should be allowed to possess.

I was putty in her hands.

As much as I wanted to roll off the log and sink into her, I refrained. My little bunny had never been allowed full control, and she was blooming with all her freedom. And fuck did it feel good to be a part of that transformation.

Panting and flushed, she broke the kiss and traced the outline of my scar one more time. That ever-crumbling armor I’d once thought unbreakable gained another dent.

We dented the wall. In two places.

Depleted of energy, legs tangled in soft sheets and sweaty man, I stared at the destruction behind the bedpost. The dents were small, easily repaired, tiny blemishes that under the care of the right set of hands, the right tools, would soon blend with the rest of the wall, fit right in, like they had never been a nuisance to begin with.

“What are you thinking about?” A warm hand lay across my stomach, rubbing small circles.

“I’m wondering how sex can be so destructive, and so beautiful all at the same time.”

“Like you,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Never mind.” The pillow rustled beneath his head.

I curled against his solid frame, running my fingers over the ridges of muscle, and breathed deep, savoring the aroma of man and sex.

---