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By the time he slid the condom on, I was panting heavily and so turned on that I was afraid I’d come the second he entered me.

But he took his time, his mouth against mine, lazy and sweet, while I caught my breath and came back down again. He sucked on my tongue at the same time he entered my body and I gasped beneath him, stiffening at the feel of the sudden fullness. His hips jerked forward and he sank deeper while he groaned against my mouth.

His hand locked my wrists together above our heads while his other flicked and pinched my nipple, then slow and soft on top only to pinch it again and send a shooting pleasure-pain from my nipple straight to where he moved inside me, slow and deep.

He kissed me, made love to me, kept me needing more, until we both couldn’t last any longer. Then he held my thigh around his waist as he pumped into me.

His back arched and his fingers dug into my leg while my hands, now free, were able to touch the hard hills and valleys of his body.

“No touching,” he growled.

“But—”

“Please.”

I saw the torment in his eyes and I wanted to take it away, so I put my arms above my head again and his eyes closed. He pushed into me, harder and harder. I moaned, the pillow clenched in my hands as I felt the pleasure swirl and then dive over the edge into a pool of heat.

Ream groaned, his body stiffening and then he thrust twice more into me.

His eyes flashed open and our gazes locked. Just like we were. Us. There was no longer a separation; we belonged and whatever happened, there was no key. Our lock was broken, just like we were. The thing was, I still didn’t know why he was broken.

It took us half the day to get out of bed. When we finally did it was to shower, and we did it together making love against the wet tiled wall. Then Ream carried me back to bed where he tasted me all over again. I noticed he fell into that glazed look a couple of times, and once when I touched his ass, he shoved my hand away so violently that I was shocked.

I asked him about it, but he evaded the question again and quickly had me thinking about other things. It bothered me that whatever it was, he didn’t trust me enough to talk about it.

It was Logan who forced us out of our bedroom. “Ream. I’m not telling you again.” It had been the fourth time he’d knocked on the door and told Ream to get up. Now he pounded on the door and his booming voice had me throwing the covers over my head and trying to smother my laughter. Pissed off Logan hearing me laugh at him was not a good idea, even if I did have Ream here to protect me. And I had no doubt Ream would. He’d never let anyone hurt me, and I think that was why I saw that moment of vulnerability in him. Because he knew that he’d never be able to protect me from my disease. It was something out of his control and no matter what angle he tried to look at it … there was no cure.

“Get your ass out here, Ream. We’re leaving for the studio in five.” Logan’s voice was hard and unrelenting, but then I heard him chuckle and Emily squeal. Okay, he wasn’t that mad.

Crisis shouted in the background. “Aren’t you satisfied by now, buddy? Jesus, I heard you all night long. Didn’t hear her though. Guess you’re not that good after all.”

That got a reaction out of Ream and he was off the bed and out the door, unconcerned about his nudity as he went after Crisis. I heard a fuck and a door slamming then Logan laughed.

Ream came back in the room and shut the door in Logan’s face. His body language was all tension and angry, but the corner of his lips curved up and his eyes danced with playfulness.

He walked straight for the bed, grabbed me around the waist, and yanked me to the edge so my legs were on either side of him. He cupped the nape of my neck, tilted my head, and then he kissed me and there was nothing lazy and sweet about it. It was one of those epic kisses that I never wanted to end.

“Got to go, baby.” He let me go and I fell back onto the bed, the sheet swirling around me, caught between my thighs. I pulled the material up farther so there was tension on my sex.

Then I started moaning—loud.

I wasn’t sure what Ream was doing because my eyes were closed, but I rolled around on the bed, the sheet between my legs as I moaned louder and louder. “Oh God, Ream.” I screamed as loud as I could while still sounding breathless. “Yes. Oh God. Yes. That’s it.”

I did a long drawn out moan-scream then stopped, propping up on my elbow and smiling.

He shook his head, grinning, his jeans in his hand. I winked and he threw his jeans aside and dove onto the bed.

Within minutes I was screaming for real.

During the day, Ream recorded with the band while I helped Hank with the horses and painted. In the evenings Ream would come with me to the barn and we’d groom Clifford. Well, I’d groom and Ream would watch … from a distance. I had to give him credit though. He did try feeding him carrots, and after a week he got close enough to stroke Clifford’s neck.

The sweetest moment was yesterday evening because it was so unexpected and beautiful. Ream didn’t even know I was watching him since I had gone into the tack room to put the brushes away. I realized I’d forgotten the curry on the hay bale, and when I came back out and saw Ream, I stopped and stared.

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