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I know this. I’ve realized that and it’s seriously so goddamn hot.

“Give me more of it. Fill me with it.”

He groans a low, “Fuuuck,” that makes my toes curl.

This time is slower, more deliberate, less urgent, but no less intense. It’s not anal as he said he wanted, but I don’t think he cares. The water creates a different sensation, a buoyancy that lets me control the pace and the angle.

Loomis watches me with wonder, with hunger, with something that looks like reverence. “You’re so beautiful.” He pushes my wet hair back from my face and over my shoulders.“Especially like this. Especially when you take what you want and I’m buried deep inside of you.”

I roll my hips, drawing a moan from both of us. “What I want is you,” I tell him. “Just you. And Fen.”

“While I love hearing that more than anything, can we not mention my son when I’m inside of you?”

I snicker a laugh, but it cuts off when his hand slides between us and his thumb finds my clit.

“Oh!”

“You like that?”

All I can do is nod. The added sensation makes me quicken my pace, chasing the building pressure. Loomis thrusts up to meet me, the water splashing rhythmically against the sides of the tub.

“Come for me,” he urges, his thumb circling faster. “One more time, love. Let me feel you.”

My climax builds slower this time, but when it comes, it’s deeper, more all-encompassing. Pleasure floods through me, and I clench around him, falling forward and pressing my face against his chest. He thrusts up into me faster, harder, chasing his own release, and when he finds it, when he growls and grunts and swears, a fresh pulse of aftershocks shoots through me. I sag completely against his chest, even as he rolls up, still pushing himself into me.

It’s so primal and possessive, and I clench, despite being totally spent.

His arms come around me, holding me close, his heartbeat gradually slowing beneath my ear. The water has cooled slightly, but I don’t care enough to move, and he doesn’t seem to either.

“We should probably actually bathe at some point,” I murmur against his skin, but I make no move to separate from him.

His laugh is soft and intimate. “Probably,” he agrees, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “But not just yet.”

We stay like this, entwined in cooling water with him still inside me, both of us suspended in a moment that feels impossibly close to perfect. Knowing it likely is.

After all, don’t all good things eventually end?

26

Iwatch her breathing beside me, crimson hair fanned across the white hotel pillow and my chest. The dim light from the bathroom catches the freckles dotting her shoulders, and I lightly trace them with my finger. I’m not used to this fullness in my chest, the strange certainty that came with those three words we exchanged hours ago. I love you. Words I’ve said in films countless times… but never in real life.

Never with this terrifying honesty.

Keegan shifts, her leg sliding against mine beneath the tangled sheets. The ceiling fan turns lazy circles above us, barely moving the heavy Florida air even with the air conditioning blasting through the vents. Outside our window, Key West continues its nightly symphony of distant music and occasional shouts—thankfully no roosters yet—but in here, it’s just the sound of our breathing and the soft whir of the baby monitor tracking Fen’s dreams in the bedroom across the suite.

“You’re thinking too loud,” she murmurs, not opening her eyes. Her hand finds mine under the sheet, fingers threading through mine with practiced familiarity, as if we’ve been doing this for years instead of hours.

“Isn’t that my line for you?”

“Yes, but I was sleeping this time.”

“Sorry.” I bring her knuckles to my lips. “My brain won’t shut up.”

Now she does open her eyes, green with tiny flecks of gold, like sunlight through leaves. “Share with the class, Powell.”

I trace the curve of her bare hip with my free hand, memorizing the softness of her skin, the curves of her body that I’m still learning.

“I have to go back to Boston,” I say finally. “Sooner than we planned.”