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I wasn’t sure if I was even making sense anymore, but from the way Monroe moaned, he understood me just fine. “You do. You give me so much.”
“Everything. I want to give you everything.”
“You do.” Monroe tensed, every muscle underneath me vibrating, hand slowing on his cock. “Come on, Knox. Please. Please.”
I knew exactly what he was waiting for, but I was waiting too. And I was exactly greedy enough to demand what I wanted most. “Tell me. Tell me, and I’ll come.”
“I love you. I love you. I love—” Monroe came on a strangled shout, come splashing all over the vanity. Some wild spurts even managed to hit my clutching hands and his chest. The picture he made was that damn hot, and I gasped as the last of my control shattered. Monroe made a satisfied noise. “Yeah, come inside me.”
“Fuck. Love you too.” My orgasm often seemed to pull me away from the earth, making me all floaty and dreamy, but this one slammed into me, gluing us together, atoms to atoms, skin to skin, heart to heart. Instead of distance, it gave me presence, making me more aware of my body than I’d ever been, more connected, more everything. “Fuck. Monroe.”
“I know. Damn.” Laughing, he slumped against me. “I’m old, and you killed me dead. You’ll have to carry me to bed.”
“Ha. After another shower.” Joining his laughter, I shook my head at the mess of white streaks on the marble vanity. “And we’ve got some cleaning to do.”
“Worth it.” He sighed happily.
“So worth it.” Withdrawing carefully, I turned him so I could look into his eyes for real, not just in the mirror. “We gonna be okay?”
“I think so.” He licked his lips as if searching for the conviction we both needed. “We can do this. Together. It’ll be worth it.”
Throat thick, I nodded before giving him a soft kiss. “It better be.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Monroe
Mornings after some big event always brought weird energy. And I’d had a variety of mornings after—after a loss, after some investigation gone wrong, after victory, walks of shame and triumph. But never after the guy I loved said he loved me back, our agreement to make things work long-term simultaneously ramping me up and settling me back down. I watched Knox stir a pan of hash browns, a giddy smile refusing to leave my face.
“I feel far lazier than an average Tuesday.” Knox glanced over at me, the same dopey expression on his face. Nominally, he was teaching me how to ensure crispy potatoes, but in reality, he was cooking, and I was sipping coffee and appreciating Knox shirtless in the morning. “Speaking of lazy…”
“Hey, I made coffee,” I protested with a laugh, sliding his mug closer to the stove. “Not my fault you wore me out last night.”
“Round two was your idea.” He waggled his eyebrows at me, gesturing with the spatula.
“But the early morning round was definitely all you.” I gave him a pointed look, more than a little tempted to grope his ass in the thin shorts he’d pulled on to cook.
“Uh-huh. That wasn’t you enthusiastically participating.” Removing the potatoes from the heat, he stepped over to the sink, and I took the opportunity to drape myself over his bare back, my chest hair prickling at the contact. Like him, I hadn’t yet dressed for the day and was in shorts and nothing else.
“Nope.” I huffed against his neck. His gorgeous curls were down for a change, and I drank in their sweet scent and silky softness. “I was sleeping.”
“Rather loud sleeper.” He snorted.
“It’s not my fault you make me scream.”
“I think it—”
A loud rap at the kitchen door cut him off, Rob opening the door before I could fully spring away from the embrace. “Knox?”
“Dad.” Knox sounded as wary as I felt. Hell, I wasn’t sure exactly what Rob had seen, but it wasn’t good.
Eyes narrowed, Rob’s gaze flitted between Knox and me and the too-little space between us. “I was on my way into the station, and I kept thinking about how we left things last night.”
“Oh.” So much longing in Knox’s voice. His need for Rob’s apology was written all over his face, but unfortunately, Rob continued his suspicious glower.
“But what’s this?” He gestured at us. “What’s going on here?”
“Could we start with your apology for last night?” Body and tone stiffening, Knox drew himself up taller.
“I was coming by to say you were right about me not wanting to see you as an adult.” Rob waved a hand like that no longer mattered when I knew full well it was all Knox wanted. “But what the hell is this? Laundry day?” Face wrinkling, he pointed at our bare chests. Not waiting for a reply, he asked, “Is something going on between the two of you?”
I forced my breath to stay even. The choice, and the reply, had to be all Knox, not me. If he wanted to deny us, I’d cope. We’d cope. Maybe there would be a better time. But Knox seemed similarly conflicted, no rush to speak. By now, I’d learned that meant he was thinking, but Rob had no patience.
