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“Is it?” I ask, searching the depths of his eyes for an answer. “Will it ever be okay?”

“It is now,” he says, his hot breath caressing my lips right before his mouth covers mine. The strength of the connection between us—the raw emotions Hawke displayed both onstage and here with me—is stronger, more powerful than anything I’ve ever felt.

With our grief shed and a future together within reach, the need for each other is impossible to ignore. Out of loss comes love, love that has to be shown and felt and expressed physically, to feel alive.

When I break away from the kiss to gulp down air, Hawke pulls my mouth back to his. The kisses become frenzied…sloppy and hot and wet and oh so good. Hawke thrusts his tongue hungrily into my open mouth and in an instant, my entire body is consumed by white-hot flames.

“God, I missed you so much,” Hawke pants, pulling away to tear my shirt over my head and unfasten my bra before devouring my mouth again. Strong hands hold either side of my face, keeping me in place as he takes what he needs and gives back so much more.

I swipe my tongue over the small stud in his lower lip before latching on with my teeth, sucking it into my mouth, and he growls. In one swift move, Hawke flips us over so I’m beneath him on the bed. My hands tug at his zipper, desperate for there to be nothing between us physically now that our ghosts are laid to rest.

“Need you. Need these off.” Hawke grabs my pants by the waist and tears them off along with my underwear. He jumps to his feet, quickly shedding his own clothes.

“Hurry,” I moan, writhing on the bed while he grabs a condom and rolls it down his rigid cock.

I’m aching to have him inside me. Hawke is equally desperate because he no sooner has the condom on and he’s back, kneeling between my legs, and buries his entire length in one hard thrust.

“Oh fuuuck, Abby.” Hawke squeezes his eyes shut, his face contorted with pleasure.

Liquid fire spreads out from my groin, lighting up every inch of my body. “God, Henry. I missed you. Missed this.” I reach up and gently drag my nails down the rippling muscles of his back, causing him to arch up and moan.

“Fuck, I want this to last, Abby, but I’m so fucking close already.” Hawke is gritting his teeth while staring down at me, his pupils dilated, lips swollen. Gone is the veil of ever-present sadness, the tension in his body, the mental wall he had up even when we made love. It’s like I’m seeing Hawke for the first time, and he’s beautiful.

“Fuck me, Henry.” I don’t care about slow and loving. We have our entire future together to make love. Right now, I crave passion, rough and fast and hard.

I dig my nails into his lower back and wrap my legs around his waist to press my heels against his ass, urging him on.

“Jesus.” Hawke drops his head and snaps his hips, pulling almost all the way out before plunging deep again. Over and over until we’re both moaning and trembling.

“Oh god!” I shout as Hawke hits that perfect spot with each push and pull, the constant friction bringing me to the edge so fast it catches me by surprise. Instead of the slow rise, a sharp spike of intense pleasure hits me out of nowhere. “Henry!” My body suddenly goes rigid and I arch my neck, pressing my head against the pillow as brilliant lights explode behind my eyes.

“Fuck yes!” Hawke’s rhythm falters and he thrusts twice more before calling out my name, joining me in ecstasy as my body trembles and clenches tight around him.

Exhausted, he collapses on top of me, our sweat-slick skin sticky and hot. It takes a minute to catch our breath. Hawke nuzzles my neck, dragging his lips over the sensitized skin until he reaches my mouth.

“I love you so much, Abby.”

I meet his gaze—so open, his heart finally set free—and my own heart jolts from the strength of my love for him. Hawke grins. “I surprised the hell out of you tonight.”

My face heats up at the memory. “I should be mad at you for declaring your love for me in front of all those people.” I try to sound chastising, but I’m too happy and end up laughing halfway through.

“But…?” he asks.

“I didn’t see anyone else. All I saw was you.”

Hawke brushes his mouth over mine in a gentle kiss. He pulls back and his formerly playful expression is serious. “All I ever see is you, Bee. From the first time I met you, it was always going to be you. You’re it for me.”

“I love you, Henry Evans.”

We clean up and climb under the covers. Hawke curls around me, my back to his front, wrapping an arm around my waist to keep me close.

His breath is warm and steady on my neck as I drift toward sleep. I’m almost there when Hawke whispers in my ear. “So I was thinking. What would you say if I asked you to declare our love in front of another group of people? This time a much smaller, more intimate group.”

I grin. “I think I would say yes.”

“Good to know,” he murmurs. Hawke tightens his arm around me and kisses the back of my neck. “Good to know.”

Oh boy. Life with Hawke Evans will never, ever be boring.

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