Page 34 of When The Dust Settles

“I believe you,” I sighed, so sated, so calm, realizing that being in bed with someone who knew what he was doing and wanted me as much as I wanted him was a blessing to go to church and light a candle in thankfulness for. “As long as it’s just us, we should never use a condom, don’t you think?”

“I agree,” he sighed, brushing my hair back again. “This got long, huh?”

“Yeah. It needs to be cut.”

“Awful pretty to cut,” he said wistfully before he kissed me again. “I like the beard and the mustache too.”

I smiled at him. “You seem to like a lot of things about me.”

“No ‘seem,’ I do like everything about you,” he said adamantly, and I got another kiss. “Now don’t move. I wanna take care of you.”

“You did already,” I told him, and that time he bit my ass, a quick nibble, to shut me up.

I stayed frozen as he pulled everything off the cot and arranged it on the ground before prodding me to lie down.

Sprawling out, sighing deeply, not remembering when my body had ever been so sated or my mind so still, I grinned when I felt the T-shirt being used to clean me up.

“I’m still gonna smell like sex and sweat and have your dried cum all over me,” I remarked cheerfully.

“Yeah, that’s really not a bad thing,” he said, falling down beside me, bumping me, snuggling tight, his mouth on my ear and behind it, on my skin, sucking, licking, trailing lines of endless, rough kisses that, along with the bites, were going to leave marks. “You can go around with me on you all the time.”

“You’re a possessive man, Maclain Gentry.”

“You have no idea, Glenn Holloway,” he said, snorting out a laugh as he nuzzled the hollow of my throat. “Man, I knew you were gonna smell good.”

“You thought a lot about me.”

“Night and day.”

“How come?”

“Simple things.”

“Like?”

“You’re nice to look at.”

“You too,” I sighed.

“I’m addicted to those eyes of yours.”

His storm-washed-sky ones were nothing to scoff at, either. “Ditto.”

His chuckle was sexy, low and seductive and dirty in that way where now I knew carnal pleasure awaited.

“You’re making my dick hard again when you laugh like that,” I drawled.

“Oh, I knew you were gonna be good in bed too. Hell if I didn’t.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“How fast you get mad, all that passion, plus watching you eat, the way you devour your food and suck all the meat off a chicken bone—it’s hot.”

I laughed at him, and he rolled me to my back to bury his face in my belly, kissing me there before scooting up to lay his head on my heart.

“It is. You enjoy your food and your beer, and watching you eat strawberries last summer was a religious experience.”

“Same as watching you walk,” I sighed, my hands in his hair as I tugged him up to kiss me. “I love to watch you walk.”