Then one of his forearms went into the bed and the other one went between us. I felt him guide himself to me then slowly, God, so slowly, he slid inside.

He did all of this with his eyes never leaving mine.

But once I had his cock, my eyes closed and my neck arched.

“Jesus, baby, every time I give you my c**k it’s like you haven’t had it in years.”

My arms circled him, my neck righted and my eyes found his.

“I like it.”

“No shit?”

“You gonna use it?” I prompted.

He grinned and pulled out an inch, slowly. Then he slid back in to the root, again slowly.

“Honey,” I breathed and felt his hand on my belly.

It went up, up, up until it was wrapped around my throat.

“Started here,” he whispered.

“What?” I asked.

“In this bed,” he went on.

“What?” I repeated.

“You and me.”

My arms and legs tightened around him.

His hand slid up to my jaw and his thumb slid over my lips.

“Love you, Red.”

Yes.

“Love you too, Kane.”

His thumb went away but his head dropped and his lips touched mine.

Against them, I asked, “Now, are you going to f**k me or what?”

I watched his eyes smile. Then his head slanted and his hand moved around to drive into my hair as his mouth took mine, his tongue thrusting inside and his h*ps jerked back then slammed in.

Finally.

One of my hands moved up into his hair and we kissed deep while we f**ked hard and I came the usual twice to Tack’s once.

When we were done, Tack kept us connected while his hand moved soothingly along the skin of my side and his mouth moved along the skin of my neck, his goatee tickling my skin. I kept my body curled around him, the fingers of one hand drifting through his too-long hair, the others drifting over his back and ass.

I turned my head so my lips were at his ear and I whispered, “Thank you.”

“For what, baby?” he asked against my neck.

“For taking care of this.” His head came up and his eyes caught mine. When they did, I admitted quietly, “I’m not sure I’ve done my part in helping.”

“You’re still here,” he pointed out.

“Yes but every time we hit a rough patch, I give up and declare we’re over.” I lifted my head and touched my mouth to his before dropping it back to the pillow and promising, “I’ll do my best to break that habit.”

“Don’t matter if you do.”

My head tipped on the pillow. “Pardon?”

“Babe, you can declare all you want. That don’t mean I’ll let you walk out on me.”

My lungs quit working.

“Never let you go,” Tack went on.

My limbs around him tightened and my hand in his hair clenched.

“Not ever,” he finished.

Not ever.

He’d never let me go.

“I love you, honey,” I whispered.

“I know, baby,” he whispered back.

I looked into his sapphire eyes, smelled his musk, felt the weight of his warm, hard, heavy body and the ghost of his pounding between my legs, his c**k still inside me and suddenly, I squirmed.

“Fuck, that greedy pu**y,” Tack muttered.

“Um… I’m kinda ready to keep playing,” I shared something I knew he already knew.

“Babe, I’m still hard and inside you after comin’.”

“And?”

He stared at me.

Then he murmured, “Christ. She wears me out.”

“Liar,” I snapped. “I do not.”

And I didn’t. He might be forty-one but he had stamina and staying power.

I tried a different tactic, lifted my head and put my mouth to his neck as my hands moved on his back.

I trailed my tongue behind his ear then whispered my suggestion there, “Maybe I’ll get some toys so I can take care of business while you’re recuperating.”

His head jerked back and mine fell to the pillow.

“Fuck that,” he stated.

I suppressed a grin.

Tack pulled out and my lips parted at the loss of him.

“Get cleaned up,” he ordered.

“For what?” I asked. “I like you inside me.”

“Babe, you know I don’t go down on you after I’ve come inside you. Get cleaned up.”

Excellent.

I grinned at him.

He scowled at my grin.

Then he muttered, “Wears me out.”

He was so full of it.

I took a leg from around him, planted my foot in the bed, rolled him to his back and I did all this while kissing him hard, wet and long.

When I was done, I lifted my head and whispered, “I’ll go get cleaned up.”

“Hurry, babe,” he ordered.

The kiss worked. Then again, I knew it worked because I ended it when his fingers dug in my ass which I’d learned was a sign Tack liked what he was getting.

Then again, my man always liked what I gave him.

So I gave him another grin.

Then I hurried.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Battle Scars

“Red.”

The door to the garage just opened and I hadn’t even got my head up to look that direction before I heard Tack’s gravelly voice say my name.

“Yeah, handsome?” I asked his head which was the only thing shoved through the door.

“Come into the garage,” he ordered and disappeared.

I got up, smoothed my tight skirt down my thighs and walked on my spike-heeled pumps around my desk to the door to the garage.

I did this happily, deciding not to get uppity about his order. And I did this mostly because we’d had a great night the night before and I was still riding that high.

It was Wednesday, two and a half weeks after the drama with Tabby and, fortunately, not much had happened. Or it had, just that all of it was good.

The hog roast had been a blast.

The trip down memory lane, tequila-infused sex-a-thon in Tack’s room at the Compound during/after was even better.

And last Saturday, Tack had driven his big Ford Expedition down the mountain to my house, Rush and Tabby trailing in Rush’s car. Once there, we’d loaded up a bunch of my stuff so I could move in with them.

Earlier in the week, while eating a dinner Tack wisely cooked (buttering them up, not, in the end, that they needed to be buttered) but before my introduction to the TV show Justified (and the dude who played the lead reminded me a lot of Shy, or at least his body did, and, incidentally the show was also good), Tack had shared the news I was moving in. Rush and Tabby, to my relief but not surprise, declared this “the shit”. Thus the five minute family meeting was over and the TV watching commenced.