Pushing back from my chest, she propped herself up and looked down at me. “You saw him pinch my ass at the outdoor tree lighting ceremony? In that huge crowd?”

I rolled onto my back and put my hands behind my head. “Maybe.”

“Were you watching me?”

“Maybe.”

Her face lit up, and she slapped my chest. “You were!”

“Well, I could tell he was an asshole. I felt like I needed to keep an eye on you. You know, for your own safety.”

She narrowed her eyes. “For my own safety?”

“Yes. Definitely not because I wanted to touch your ass.”

“Of course not. Because you were always a perfect gentleman.”

“Aren’t I still?”

“Well, I don’t know.” She pretended to think about it, tapping a finger to her chin. “Now that I know what you were thinking, I might have to reconsider my assessment of you.”

I reached out and grabbed her by the forearms, and she squealed as I flipped her beneath me. “Haven’t you been reconsidering it since the moment in my bedroom when you insisted on seeing my belt?”

A sly grin took over her face. “Oh yeah. That.”

“I warned you.”

“You did.” She wrapped her legs around me. “It was still a bit of a shock.”

“I remember. You tried to leave through the closet door.”

Her giggle warmed me all over. “God, that was embarrassing.”

“Tell me about it.”

“However, it took my fantasies to a whole new level. So thank you.”

I grinned. “Like the one where I arrest you for being a bad girl?”

She nodded, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. “Uh huh.”

“That text message fucking blew my mind.” I leaned down and rubbed my lips against hers. “Will you do that again sometime?”

“Sure. I’ve got plenty of fantasies to choose from. There’s this one where you bust into the bedroom on Prom night where Brody Nichols is pawing me and trying to talk me out of my virginity, and you kick his ass. Then you pop my cherry for yourself, of course.”

My jaw was hanging open, anger shooting through my veins. “Wait a minute. Is any of that story true? Did that little shit Brody Nichols actually paw you?”

“Relax, it was years ago. I’m thirty, remember? And it was very minor pawing. Second base stuff.”

“I will fucking tear him apart,” I seethed. “I don’t care how long it’s been.” I’d never liked Brody Nichols—he’d been a jackass as a teenager, and he was still a jackass as an adult. “He deserves an ass-kicking.”

“He probably does, but it’s not necessary on my account. I handled it.”

“How?”

“I kneed him in the balls and told him to go fuck himself.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I cannot picture the sweet little Cheyenne Dempsey I knew doing that.”

“You didn’t know everything about me,” she said coyly, bringing her hands to my chest. Her fingertips teased my nipples, making my blood rush faster.

“That’s true.” I lowered my mouth to hers, protectiveness and possessiveness igniting the fire in me again. “But from now on, the only hands that get near you are mine.”

“Or mine,” she whispered, “while I pretend they’re yours.”

“We’re done pretending,” I told her, rolling onto my back and bringing her on top of me. “From now on, we’re the real thing.”

Sixteen

Cheyenne

Even my fantasies weren’t this good—and my fantasies had been pretty fucking awesome.

But this—this—his hands in my hair and on my skin. His mouth open against mine, his tongue between my lips. His body, strong and muscular beneath me, sculpted with the kinds of curves and edges and lines I’d only imagined. His bare cock, thick and long and hard, hitting me so deep it stole my breath.

As I slid down onto it, slowly and carefully, my hands braced on his chest, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He watched me with a combination of lust and reverence in his blue eyes, his hands tight on my hips, his breathing ragged and heavy. Beneath my palms, his heart beat hard and fast—for me.

I couldn’t believe it.

For me.

As if the threads to the past and all its hopelessness had been snipped, I raced ahead, unashamed and unafraid and unencumbered by worry and doubt. He wanted me, he wanted this, he wanted love.

“Cheyenne,” he said, his jaw tight. “We need to stop so I can put a condom on.”

“I’m okay with this if you are. I’m on the pill, and I haven’t been with anybody else in over two years.”

“I haven’t either.”

I smiled. “So we’re good.”

With that, I let go of my inhibitions and moved the way my body wanted to, riding him with reckless abandon, enjoying the way he groaned and gripped my hips to slow me down, or filled his hands with my breasts, or sat up and took them in his mouth, his tongue driving me crazy. When he got too close, he begged me to stop, but I didn’t, intoxicated with the power I had over him in that moment—finally—the way I was in control. In fact, I moved my hips a little faster, rocked my body a little rougher, cried out a little louder, until I felt him stiffen and throb within me, which set off the billowing swells of my own orgasms—yes, yes, yes.

I was his, and he was mine, and we were finally, unbelievably, real.

“Can I ask you something?” Cole’s tone was quiet and intimate, his hands gentle as they swept lazily up and down my back. Our bodies were still connected, and my cheek was pressed against his chest, where I’d collapsed.

“Sure.”

“Why haven’t you been with anyone else in so long?”

“It hasn’t really been that long.”

“You said over two years.”

“True. But I guess that doesn’t feel like that long. I haven’t really missed it.”

“No?”

“Uh huh. To be honest, sex never fulfilled me that much. There would be all this buildup, and then afterward I always ended up feeling disappointed in some way. It was never what I was looking for. At some point, I decided to stop sharing so much of myself with guys who didn’t care enough.”

“Good.”

“What about you?” I asked, looking up at him.

He exhaled. “It took me years to even attempt being with someone after Trisha died. And even then, it never felt right.”

“But there were . . . others?” I hated the jealousy that threatened to intrude on my happiness, but I was too curious not to ask.

“Only two. One random hookup at an out-of-town conference. And one woman I met at a coffee shop when Mariah was visiting her other grandparents in Indiana. She was newly single and lonely, and so was I. But like you said, it wasn’t what I was looking for. Not at all.”

I nodded slowly, the jealousy fading away. “What were you looking for?”

He cradled my face with his hands and kissed my forehead. “The girl next door.”