“Bell.” Hank’s moved closer now. “Stop talking.” There’s the soft, calloused scrape of his palm on my cheek. For a second, I think he might strangle me. Instead, when his hand flexes against my jaw, a strange dizziness sweeps me up. My belly swoops at careful and hopeful angles.
He leans in, leans low, a stern seriousness tightening the line of his brow. And then, and then, and then—
His mouth is on mine.
Pressing hard. Inhaling my gasp. The man kisses me like he’s starving. Maybe he is. Because I’m just as hungry.
My shaky hands wrap around his shoulders before sliding up his neck and into his hair. I burrow closer, almost a physical lunge of my lust.
We groan in unison. Our bodies two hot suns colliding, brilliant and burning.
We move together, frantically, hungrily. Like the last three years are a dam burst. Like we can reclaim the past. Like weremember each other’s bodies. What we like. What we don’t. What we need.
“Need you,” he murmurs, pressing closer, hands on the elastic waistband of my sweatpants. Desperate and panting, he drags his sharp whiskers up the curve of my throat. I feel his shudder in my ear. His warm breath on my temple a moment before his lips meet mine once more.
It’s a repeat of last night. Only this time, I don’t want it to stop.
“It’s been so long.” I sift my hands in his hair and arch my hips, relishing his heavy thickness against me, his harsh intake of breath.
I wish my voice wasn’t so desperate, so full of lust. But there’s no room for embarrassment. Not when Hank’s tone matches mine.
“I know, sugar.” His groan vibrates through me.
Hands on his shoulders, I bite at his lush lower lip. Can’t get enough of him. I want his body to melt into mine, to consume me. We kiss for an eternity, only breaking apart when we’re breathless.
“Goddamn, Bluebell,” he husks against my ear. “I missed you. Missed you so fucking much. Missed this.” A kiss pressed to my cheek. “Missed you.” His big hands inch my sweatpants down until they’re a puddle at my feet. “Missed this gorgeous fucking pussy.” One long finger dips inside me.
My heart rate skyrockets.
“Let’s see, sugar. See if you still like this.”
I whimper at how good it feels.
Hank grins. “That’s what I thought. Still fucking aching for me, aren’t you?”
Head lolling, I sigh. My dirty-talking cowboy with his hands of steel and velvet. I’ve never missed him more.
He steps into me, dropping his forehead to my shoulder, and scoops me up. His biceps flex as he places me on the counter. I wobble once, like a top, before steadying myself with my hands on his smooth shoulders.
I drink in his handsome face, the lust darkening his eyes. A brief slash of worry buzzes under my skin. “Hank, should we—”
“Yes,” he growls out, the possessiveness lighting me up inside. He straightens, arms braced on either side of me. “We should.”
“Okay,” I breathe, bracing my elbows on the counter, dazed.
He dips low, watchful, dragging my butt to the lip of the counter. Strong hands palm my knees, guiding them open. Goose bumps skitter across my skin when the cold air hits my thighs. But that chill’s quickly swallowed up by Hank’s warm mouth.
He buries his face between my legs and groans. “Tastes the same,” he rasps, pulling back slightly. “Tastes like mine.”
“Cowboy.” I arch into the lazy swirls of his tongue, eyes falling closed. Desire pulses in my core. I haven’t felt this way in a long time. So wanted. So desired.
Nothing has ever come close to Hank’s madness for me.
A hoarse moan erupts from his throat. Good lord, the man devours me like he’s starving.
He eats me until my limbs are limp and trembling, until I detonate, writhing against his mouth. I’m almost there. But Hank isn’t.
“Don’t come,” he orders.
