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“Yes.” The word came out as a moan. “All for you.”

He rewarded me by sliding one finger inside me, then two, curling them in a way that almost got me to where I wanted to be. My hips bucked against his hand, seeking more friction, more pressure, more everything.

“That's it, baby. Take what you need.”

I was close, so close, when he withdrew his hand. I whimpered at the loss, but he was already hooking his fingers in my panties, dragging them down my legs with impatient movements.

His jeans followed along with his boxers, and then he was settling between my thighs, the hard length of him pressing against my entrance. We stayed like that for a heartbeat, foreheads touching, breathing each other's air.

“Are you sure?” His voice was strained with the effort of holding back.

I nodded, and then he got protection.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him to me. We both groaned as he slid home, filling me completely, perfectly.

For a moment, we didn't move. The sensation of being joined so completely, so intimately, was overwhelming. I could feel every inch of him inside me, stretching me, completing me.

Then he began to move, slow and deep, each thrust deliberate and measured. I met him stroke for stroke, our bodies finding that perfect rhythm that belonged only to us.

His mouth found mine again, swallowing my moans as the pressure built between us. I could taste the desperation in his kiss, the need to prove we were here, alive, together.

“Harder.” The word slipped out without my permission.

He complied immediately, his pace increasing, his thrusts becoming more demanding. The headboard hit the wall with each movement, but neither of us cared. All that mattered was this connection, this claiming, this perfect storm of sensation.

I felt the first flutter of my climax building low in my belly, spreading outward like ripples on water. Graham must have sensed it too because his hand slipped between us, finding my clit and circling it with the perfect amount of pressure.

“Come for me,” he growled against my throat. “Let me feel you.”

The combination of his touch, his words, and the angle of his thrusts sent me over the edge. I cried out his name as pleasure crashed over me in waves, my body clenching around him.

He followed me over, his own release tearing through him with a force that left us both shaking. For long moments, we lay entwined, hearts racing, skin slick with sweat.

When he finally moved to collapse beside me, I immediately missed his weight, his warmth. But then he pulled me against his chest, and I listened to the rapid beating of his heart as it slowly returned to normal.

“We're going to get through this,” he murmured into my hair. “Whatever comes next, we face it together.”

I pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. “Together.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Three days later, the morning rush at the clinic showed no signs of slowing down. We'd had a steady stream of walk-ins since we'd opened, everything from routine check-ups to a genuine emergency involving a kitten who’d been caught underneath a rocking chair while the owner was rocking. When they came in, Roxie didn’t know if he would make it and had rushed him into surgery.

I was restocking supplies in exam room two when Ava came in.

“Glenda’s here.”

I poked my head out to see Glenda standing at the reception desk, holding a manila folder and wearing what looked like a brand-new outfit. The pale blue dress was flattering, and she'd done something different with her hair.

Go Glenda!

“Hi, Glenda.” I walked out to greet her. “How's Rosebud doing?”

“Perfect.” Her smile was bright and animated. “I actually came to see all of you. I have an invitation.”

Roxie came out of her office to see what was going on. She’d just come out of surgery a few minutes before, and she was pretty sure the kitten would recover, so she was in a really good mood.

“You have an invitation?” Ava asked.