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She’s so pretty I can’t breathe.

“Lemme grab the Advil first.” I kiss the corner of her mouth.

“The Advil?”

“Bet you’re sore already, aren’t you?” I pull out of her the tiniest bit, and her breath catches. “Yep. Advil. Take two. Better yet, three.”

She blinks, her smile softening. “You’re sweet.”

“You’re staying.” I kiss her one last time. “C’mon. Let’s go clean you up.”

CHAPTER 25

Sally

MIDNIGHTS

I’m hot.

I’m not in my bed.

I’m naked.

My body lurches into sudden consciousness. I open my eyes and am greeted by total darkness. The air is cold, tinged with the scent of a fire.

There was a fire because I’m at Wyatt’s house.

I’m in his bed.

His deliciously comfortable, insanely enormous king-size bed, which smells like sex.

Turning my head, I am just able to see the outline of the nearby fireplace. The fire in it has long since died. Did Wyatt put it out? What time did that happen? Last thing I remember is Wyatt using a washcloth to wipe his cum off my belly and breasts—oh my God—after we had sex for a second time. I think—hope—I went to the bathroom too?

Yes, I remember I did, and then we climbed into bed and he pulled me against him, the big spoon to my little spoon. I must’ve drifted off to sleep.

As if on cue, an arm tightens around my middle. Is Wyatt dreaming?

My stomach dips, a quiet but insistent throb blooming to life between my legs as my senses blink awake. I wince. Despite that Advil I took, I’m definitely sore.

I’m definitely still wrapped up in Wyatt.

My throat tightens. I try to stay very still so I don’t wake him. Judging by the darkness outside the windows, it’s very late—or very early. Too early to be up, even on a ranch. Wyatt needs his sleep.

The sex. My God. It was so good that I’m struggling not to cry just thinking about it. How patient Wyatt was, how thorough and intense andtender.

It wasn’t fucking. It wasn’t even sex.

To me, it felt like making love. Which is a beautiful idea. Then again, I could be making things up. I don’t have tons of experience. But the way he insisted I take that Advil, the way he looked me in the eye as he patiently pushed inside me that first time?—

You’re not making anything up.

His skin is warm. I can feel the press of his wiry chest hair against my back as he breathes deeply, evenly, his breath rustling the hair at the nape of my neck.

I can also feel something wet on my lower back.

The throb between my legs blares when I realize that Wyatt is leaking.

Not only that. He’s hard.