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Another lover might have fixated on her erogenous zones, but Gibson’s attention to detail had continually surprised her when they first started dating. He could spend an hour washing her hair, for example. Or endless minutes unbraiding it.
And she happened to know he liked her legs in boots. That may have been why she’d chosen today’s calf-hugging pair that came over the knee. She wasn’t vain about her limited looks. But a woman would have to be supremely well-adjusted to not care how she appeared around an ex.
“Were these for me?” he asked now, dropping to one knee in front of her and wrapping one strong hand around the back of her thigh so he could steady her while he unzipped the boot.
Slowly.
Oh so slowly, he lowered that zipper.
Midway down, he paused the action to stroke a finger into the skin he’d bared, from midcalf to just above her knee.
She tried to press her thighs together against the throb of need between her legs, but she only succeeded in balancing her hands on his shoulders to keep herself upright.
“Maybe. Yes.” Her fingers flexed against the heavy muscles of his arms, wanting all his warmth and strength on top of her, pressing her into the bed. “Please, Gibson.”
For an extended moment, she became hyperaware of his knuckle skimming up and down, up and down just inside her knee while he seemed to consider the request. But just when she thought she couldn’t bear the wait another second, he shucked off one boot and made quick work of the other, tossing them aside.
In another moment, he was on his feet, tugging off his half-undone shirt and stepping out of his pants. When he wore only a pair of black cotton boxer briefs that outlined his erection, he pivoted her around so she faced the gray linen-draped bed, her back to his front.
Breathless, she leaned into him, savoring the heat of his chest. The hard ridge of his desire trapped against her ass cheek. His arms wrapped around her, one securing her just beneath her breasts, the other sliding along her belly and into her underwear.
“Do you remember my goal?” His voice had deepened. The sound vibrated against her back, tripped over her skin.
“I—I remember it.” Her words stuttered as she shivered from the sensation. He stroked through her wetness, sure fingers giving her precisely what she needed, where she needed it. Not just the lush caresses that made her body weep with pleasure, but him surrounding her with his strength. His scent. His warmth.
The familiarity of it, of all the things she’d once thought she’d have forever, made a shadow dart through the pleasure for a moment. But she forced it aside, focusing instead on the circling, insistent fingers that demanded she give him everything.
“I want to feel you come.” He spelled out the goal in no uncertain terms as he spoke into her ear, the words warm and damp against her skin while her body flushed with heat. “Can you let yourself go for me?”
Her head tipped against his shoulder. She couldn’t have answered him if she’d wanted to since the coiling tightness inside made her breath catch. Hold.
Suspended in one perfect moment, she opened her mouth on a soundless cry before sensation slammed through her. Pleasure unspooled in one heady spasm after another, her whole body in the grip of the fiercest climax she could ever remember feeling.
Moments later, sagging with relief from it, she wanted to tell him how incredible he’d made her feel, but the throb of his body against hers reminded her that he hadn’t shared in the pleasure yet.
Something she intended to correct immediately.
“It’s your turn now.” Spinning to face him, she gripped her braid in one hand and slid her fingers down the length of it until she reached the tie at the end.
His dark eyes latched onto the calculated move.
“Making you feel good is my turn,” he told her, stubbornly never acknowledging the heavy weight in his boxers. “You came so fast the first time, you must need another orgasm.”
With each plait that she sifted free, his muscles tensed and twitched, making her feel empowered. Attractive in her own way, no matter what the world saw when they looked at her.
“I need you,” she reminded him, determined to break past that competitive pride to the man beneath. Had it been a mistake to invoke the hockey hero in the first place? She’d only done it to convince him that she wanted fire and passion, not caution and restraint. “Inside. Me.”
When she reached the end of the woven pieces and shook out the strands, Gibson’s rough growl was music to her ears. The sound hummed through her while he unhooked her bra with one hand and shoved down her panties with the other. A moment later, he tipped her back onto the mattress, the nubbly texture of the linen spread the only fabric against her skin now.
Gibson tucked a thumb in the band of his boxers and dragged them down. Off.
She stretched toward him to pull him to her when he turned away. Confused, she followed his movements as he reached into the bedside table and withdrew a new box of condoms.
Surprise shook her. She’d forgotten about protection completely. Because of course, when they’d been married...
Emotion blindsided her.
The memories of her secret—the one time she’d been pregnant and hadn’t been able to tell him before she’d lost it again—swelled in her chest. Crowding everything out. Threatening to spoil this night. This coupling that he deserved after she’d thrown all her seductive powers at the chance to savor pleasure.
