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“She’ll be fine. And you’re not going out of any windows. Not on my watch.”

He turned me around in his arms, causing me to drop my phone on the floor.

Rude maybe? But then, what had Gun said about not answering the phone?

“I think, perhaps, if we stay quiet… Can you stay quiet, Dylan?”

Could I? The smile on his face told a different story. He was up to mischief, and perhaps…

“Maybe?” I whispered. “Don’t wake the kids.”

“I won’t.” His lips nudged my cheek, the corner of my mouth, soft presses of skin against my jaw and a hand gently moving under the hem of my boxers. “I’m going to give you a little hand job. I read up on it. Apparently better with a little bit of lubrication.”

“And have we got…lubrication?” I had to let that little breath out, as his hand moved over my shaft. Up. Down. Fingers carefully exploring. Then disappearing, as he shot me a wink and fiddled with something under the duvet.

He’d made the bed up. Sorted all this.

For me.

Because he loved me. And I loved him right back.

My head fell back as his hand returned, now carrying gifts of smooth silk, a temporarily cool, liquid smoothness against my skin that quickly warmed with the touch of his hand. Gentle movements down below matched by his mouth mauling my neck, my collarbone, and then finding mine and my tongue doing things I had no control over.

I wanted to be where he was. My mouth on his, his chest against mine as his hand sped up. Small, desperate grunts came out of my mouth, matched by the sounds he was producing.

A firm nudge of his own erection against my leg. My hip.

I grabbed it. Stole a palmful of lubrication from his hand, helped him remove his undergarments.

I didn’t want anything between us. Nothing. Ever again.

“This…good,” I croaked out.

“Shhh.” Teeth scratched against my neck, soft kisses, his words caught on my skin as I gave him what he surely needed.

Friction. Hard jerks to match those he was giving me.

A hand job indeed.

His release almost crushed me as he tensed up at my side, my teeth on his shoulder to keep my own at bay. Just a little more. A little longer.

Harder.

Faster.

“Come for me,” he whispered. “Dylan. Let it go.”

My neck bent back as my body went rigid. Hard. And suddenly nothing mattered, yet everything did. My release into his hand was as violent as the love in my heart.

I couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t control it. Not anymore.

“There you go,” he whispered against my mouth. “Much better.”

What could I say to that? I had no words left. Instead, I curled up against his shoulder and let sleep claim me.

Because he was absolutely right.

There was nothing else I could do now.