“Because I’m falling for you!”

Johnny went still.

Izzy did not.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m not stupid. I’m not going to mess that up by being upset about something and letting it fester and get twisted before I talk to you about it. I mean . . . yeesh.”

Yeesh?

He had no time to get into the utter adorableness of “yeesh.”

He shifted toward her, turning to his side, sliding down, hooking an arm around her waist and hauling her up against him.

Then he kissed her.

At first, he rolled on his back, pulling her on top of him, wanting her weight on him, wanting her anchoring him to his bed.

Then she whimpered in his mouth in that way he always felt in his dick and he rolled them again, Johnny on top of her, giving her as much of his weight as he thought she could take, pressing her into the bed like she could make a dent in it that would never go away.

The kiss started deep and wild and it kept going in that direction as they tore at each other’s clothes, devoured each other’s flesh any way they could get at it.

By the time he got his mouth between her legs, she was so wet and Johnny was just as ready for her, all he could do was suck her clit hard before surging over her, hand to his cock, guiding the way, finding her and sliding right in.

“Johnny,” she breathed when she was full of him.

He thrust, staring at this Izzy, his wild one, his sex kitten, the pink in her cheeks, the haze in her eyes, the swelling in her lips.

She lifted her arms above her head, cocked her knees and let her legs fall wide to the side . . .

Fuck.

His.

Open for him. Her hips undulating to meet his thrusts. Her body jolting when she took them. Her hair spread all over his bed. Her body his to do anything he wanted.

She trusted him that completely.

And no one else.

She’d never given that to anyone else.

But he had that from the beginning.

He made a noise that he made only for her and pulled out, shifted aside, whipped her to her belly and moved right back in. Hitching one leg, forcing hers up with it, gliding his hands up the outsides of her arms, keeping them straight above her head, wrapping his fingers around her forearms, watching her, one cheek pressed to his comforter, swollen lips parted, breaths coming fast, face flushed, he drove back in, pounding her into his bed.

Connected to her.

Covering her.

Giving her what was in her face at the same time he was her shield against the shit of life, the blanket to keep her warm, the shelter to keep her safe.

That was his to know, to give, to share with her later when she wasn’t taking his cock.

But her head arched back, she pressed her temple tight to his jaw and whispered a trembling, “Johnny.”

And he knew she knew.

He knew he didn’t have to say a word.

But he did have to say something else.

He slid a hand down the soft skin of her arm, her side, over her waist and hip and then in.

He touched her clit, pressed, rolled, she gasped and he said, “I’m falling for you too,” in her ear.

She cried out, her pussy rippling tight around his cock, her body shuddering under his, her ass pressing hard to his groin. It was too much, too good, he couldn’t ride her through her orgasm so he shoved his face in her neck, drove deep and shot inside his Izzy, groaning against her skin.

When he came out of where Izzy took him and back into the room, he pushed his face harder into her neck and kept her leg hitched as he fucked her gentle, deliberate, memorizing every inch of her inside, over and over slipping his cock out of her silky wet until she only had the tip and then sinking it slowly back in.

He felt her breath in his hair, the ease of her soft body under his. He slid his hand from between her legs and up to cup her breast.

He heard her hand glide over the comforter and press in to cover his.

Finally, Johnny buried himself inside her and stayed there, tracing the line of her neck with his lips.

Her body twitched and her head moved to the side like she wanted to squeeze him out.

He started to pull away but she said softly, but urgently, “Don’t. It just tickles. Your beard. But I like it.”

He retraced his line at her neck.

She shivered under him.

And it was then he knew.

This was it.

This was all he was ever going to have.

Izzy.

Her body. Her pussy. Her hair. Her neck. Her breasts. Her scent. Her taste.

Her belly would swell with the babies he’d plant there.

Her skin would wrinkle.

Her hair would gray.

He would mourn her when she was gone and there wouldn’t be another for him.

Or he would leave this earth knowing she’d do the same.

That was it.

The rest of his life.

Simple.

And unbelievably fucking beautiful.

He’d finished taking the plunge and it ended up being him doing it fucking Izzy wild in his bed.

But he thought that was fitting considering that was how it started.

He nipped her earlobe, kissed it and asked quietly there, “You wanna clean up?”

She spoke no words, just nodded.

He kissed her neck. Her shoulder. Slid out and rolled her around to gather her to him and take her mouth in a deep kiss.

When he finished it, she looked into his eyes, hers blinked lazily, and when she opened them again, they were smiling.

“Be back,” she whispered.

He nodded.

She pulled away and he watched her move around naked, searching the floor.

She found what he knew she was looking for when she bent to pick up his tee, straightened and moved toward the hall, pulling it on over her head.

She didn’t bother with panties.

Ranger followed her to the bathroom.

Johnny grinned.

They’d left Dempsey and Swirl with Addie and Brooks because Izzy wanted them there for her sister’s protection.

So now it was just Ranger.

And it was not lost on Johnny that even in his absence Ranger had always been his dog. It didn’t seem he mourned or was even confused about Shandra not in his life anymore.

He was just home.

That said, being all Johnny’s, his dog hadn’t bonded with Izzy. He liked the attention she gave him when she gave it. He was a dog. That happened.

But he’d never followed her anywhere when he’d be leaving Johnny behind.

Now he was in the bathroom with Johnny’s woman.

Still grinning, Johnny angled out of bed, found his shorts, his jeans, tugged them on and then went to Izzy’s wineglass.

He nabbed it, took it to the kitchen, got the bottle out of the fridge, yanked out the cork he’d wedged in and refilled it.

He got himself another beer, and when he moved back to the bed, he set her glass on his nightstand with his bottle.

He was just stretching back out in the bed when she and Ranger returned.

She came right to his side. Crawled over him, set her hip beside his, and collapsed onto him, curled close.

He slid a hand over her hip, hiked up his tee, and cupped her bare ass as he found the remote and hit play on the TV.

Ranger dropped his jaw to the side of the bed.

Johnny threw the remote on the nightstand, reached out his other hand and rubbed behind his dog’s ears.

In a time in the program where it didn’t seem she would miss too much action, he murmured, “You need space, baby, take it.”

She pushed farther into him, twisted her neck and kissed his chest then rested her cheek there again and murmured back, “Thank you, honey.”

“You have that, feel safe in it,” he told her. “But just to say, you need to talk shit out, even if you’re pissed at me and we got something to work through, hit me with it. I’m here. I’ll listen. If you’re talking to me, snapping at me or yelling at me. I’ll listen. And we’ll get to the other side.”