Page 19 of More Than a Hero (Baytown Heroes #12)

As Angie slowly drifted back to earth after experiencing the first non-self-induced orgasm she'd had in a while, she opened her eyes to find Pete's face just above her.

His gaze was intense. Before he had a chance to say anything else, she pulled him closer with her legs open, hoping he would read her intentions.

His lips curved as his hips settled deep between her thighs, and the tip of his cock nudged the entrance to her sex.

It dawned on her that she didn't have any condoms. Months ago, she threw out the box she had, worried about an expiration date, considering she hadn’t had anyone in her bedroom in a long time.

As though reading her mind, he said, "I need to get a condom. I carry one in my wallet, but I don't want you to think it's because I'm always on the prowl."

Thinking of him prowling around looking for a woman to bang had her grinning. In the weeks she came to know him, that wasn't who he was. "When did you put the condom in your wallet?"

"Last week."

Her eyes jerked open. "Really?"

A slight blush rose over his face as he grinned. "I wasn't planning anything, but I was hopeful. Hopeful that at some point, we’d come to the place in our relationship where we wanted this to go further."

"I have to tell you, Pete, I’m at that place now."

He pressed his hips down, and the feel of his heavy erection made her groan. Even though she’d just had an orgasm, she desperately craved the inner friction that she knew he would provide.

He suddenly slid off her body, and she immediately wanted to cry out. But just as quickly, he snagged his pants off the floor, pulled out his wallet, and, as he returned, had a condom between his fingers. He ripped it open and rolled it over his cock, then crawled up her body.

The anticipation had her lifting her hips, but he held his body completely still.

"I want you more than anything, Angie. But you're in control."

She sighed. "To be honest, I'd love to turn control over to you." Seeing his eyes widen and his pupils dilate, she smiled. "But, I know, I’m, um… position limited right now.”

She winced, but he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “I’ll take care of you, but I have to know what works for you right now.”

“If we’re on the bed, being on my back or my side will be the only way my knee won’t hurt."

"Babe, you have to know I'll be good. So whichever works best for you, that's what I want."

She chewed on her bottom lip and said, "Are you okay if we’re on our sides, with you behind me?" She winced and shook her head, the sudden desire to cry filling her. “God, could I sound any less sexy if I tried?”

He barked out a scoff, and she felt the rumble from his chest to hers.

"There's one thing you've got to understand, Angie. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve been with and by far, the sexiest. There’s nothing unsexy about letting your partner know what works for you.

But speaking for myself, anyway that I can have you, even if we're standing on our heads, works for me. "

She laughed at the vision. "Maybe we'll save our sexual acrobatics for another time."

"You got it, babe."

She rolled to her side, and he nuzzled her neck as he curled behind her. Her head rested on one of his arms, and his other arm banded around her, his hand cupping her breast. As his fingers danced over her nipple, she lifted her leg as he guided himself into her.

She clutched his hand as he pulled and tweaked each nipple, and she groaned as his tongue danced along her neck until he nibbled on her earlobe and kissed along her jaw.

His thrusts were deep, dragging in and out, and she could feel the spring deep inside, coil tighter.

Their bodies rocked in tandem, and she twisted her head so that her lips met his.

With his cock thrusting in and out, his tongue mimicked the motion.

She sucked on his tongue, then dragged hers along the roof of his mouth.

Another deep growl forced its way out of his chest, and she swallowed the sound, wanting to capture everything of his.

The coil kept tightening inside, but she needed more. Sliding her hand down, she pinched her clit, but quickly found her hand nudged out of the way.

Mumbling against her lips, he said, "Mine."

Considering that he began circling the bundle of nerves, she didn't care if he claimed it for himself.

Just as the spring was about to fly loose, his speed increased, and he began to pant, his hot breath now whispering over her cheek.

She clutched his arm as her body convulsed, arching her back as the flutters deep inside became stronger.

As her release hit, she could swear she saw lights dancing behind her closed eyelids.

Desperately hoping he was close, she grinned as his arms banded around her even tighter, and with a final deep thrust, he erupted.

Finally, his body relaxed behind her, and they lay, their sweaty bodies cooling and their heartbeats slowing. When their breathing evened, he slid out, and she rolled carefully until she was facing him.

"Thank you," he said.

"What for?"

"For trusting me with your body. For trusting me to make a bad day a little bit better. For trusting me to carry you when you need help."

Their eyes met, and she smiled. "Can I entice you to take a shower with me?"

"The only enticement I need is the idea of you naked and wet," he said, chuckling.

Her body vibrated with a childlike giggle that burst forth. They rolled out of bed together. He disposed of the condom while she started the shower. They washed each other, and he was obviously being extra gentle with her swollen knee.

After the shower, the steam still lingered in the air, curling around them like the remnants of a dream.

Angie stood at the vanity, sliding into a pair of soft cotton panties and a lace-trimmed camisole while Pete pulled on his boxers.

The quiet between them wasn’t awkward. Instead, it felt like something deeper and richer.

She reached into the drawer and handed him a fresh toothbrush. Their fingers brushed, a simple touch that sent warmth up her arm.

“Thanks, baby.” His voice was husky, his eyes lingering on her before he turned to the sink.

Once they were ready for bed, she flicked off the bathroom light, and they walked toward the bed together. The air shifted, thickening as they stood on opposite sides, gazes locked.

“What side do you sleep on?” His voice was soft, intimate, like a secret meant only for her.

A laugh bubbled up, light and easy. “The side closest to the bathroom.”

He chuckled, nodding as if he’d expected that answer. “Good to know.”

She slipped onto her side while he moved around the bed, lifting the covers and sliding in beside her.

The mattress dipped beneath his weight, and the scent of fresh soap and warmth wrapped around her as he pulled the blankets over them, tucking her close.

His arms wound around her, strong and steady, grounding her in a way she hadn’t realized she needed.

She shifted slightly, adjusting until she was on her back, her body finding the perfect position against his.

“You want to tell me about your knee now?” His words were gentle, but there was an unmistakable undertone of concern.

A sigh slipped from her lips, followed by a small, rueful chuckle. “Honestly? No. But do I need to? Yes.”

Rolling onto her right side, she faced him. A soft glow from the bedside lamp cast golden light over his face, tracing over the angles of his jaw, the curve of his lips, and the depth of his eyes. He was so beautiful that it made her chest ache.

She reached up, her fingers lightly cupping his jaw, her thumb grazing over the roughness of his evening stubble.

His voice dropped to a near whisper. “What are you afraid of, Angie?”

She hesitated, then shook her head, her fingers brushing against his skin.

“I think I’ve been conditioned never to know how someone will react.

” Her voice was quiet, but there was strength in her honesty.

“I have rheumatoid arthritis, Pete. RA for short. I was diagnosed in my early twenties, which is a little unusual. Most people either develop it as kids or much later in life. There’s no denying it affects me. ”

She searched his face, waiting for a shift, waiting for something to tell her this was too much for him. But his expression remained steady, filled with concern, but there was no pity. No revulsion. Just him, listening.

“There are people who don’t want to be with someone who has pain.

Someone who has bad days, limitations.” She scrunched her nose.

“I shouldn’t say limitations. There are people with RA who run marathons, hike mountains, and do things I probably never will.

But if you wanted me to go for a run with you or suggested climbing some insane trail, I’d probably have to say no. ”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Angie, I know so little about it.”

She pressed her lips together, then asked, “Do you want to know more?”

“Absolutely.”

With his firm voice giving evidence that he really did want to know more, she nodded.

“Essentially, it’s a chronic autoimmune disease where the body’s immune system mistakenly attacks joints, causing inflammation, pain, swelling, and stiffness.

There isn’t a cure, but various treatments can help manage symptoms and slow the disease’s progression.

It’s systemic and can also affect other organs like the lungs, heart, eyes, skin, and blood vessels.

I can’t be out in the sun for very long or I start itching because my skin is affected.

” She shrugged. “I guess that’s the gist of the way it affects me.

Mostly my joints get stiff and swollen.”

His voice was rough, full of emotion. “I hate like hell that you have RA, and hate that you think it would change how I feel about you. Anyone who wouldn’t want to be with you because of it is a damn fool. And if you’ve had that happen before, their loss is absolutely my gain.”

A giggle escaped before she pressed her lips together, shaking her head at him.

“The truth is, Pete, it’s not just about knowing I might not be able to do some things.

Being with me means doctor appointments.

It means trying different medications. It means that some days, I might be fine, and others, I might have to cancel plans because my body just won’t cooperate.

Most of the time, I push through. But sometimes… I just can’t.”

He shifted closer, his forehead nearly touching hers.

His thumb brushed along her cheek, his touch unbearably tender.

“Sweetheart, I hope we’ll get to the point where I can just look at you and know what you need.

But until then, never be afraid to tell me.

Never be afraid to say it’s not a good day.

Never be afraid to tell me how to help. I might not always get it right, but I swear to you, I will always try. ”

Her throat tightened, emotion swelling too fast, too thick. “I don’t expect you to magically know, Pete.”

“Then promise me.” His voice was fierce, steady. “Promise me you’ll talk to me.”

A slow, deep breath filled her lungs. She met his gaze, holding on to the intensity of it, onto the promise he was offering. “I promise.”

His fingers sifted through her damp hair, curling around the nape of her neck as he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss so soft, so full of unspoken words, it nearly undid her.

And then, as he pulled back just enough to hold her gaze, he asked, “What do you think about me? What kind of man do you think I am?”

She hesitated, swallowing around the lump in her throat. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m afraid to hope.”

His hand tightened at her nape. “Angie, we’ve been seeing each other for weeks now. We work together, we spend time together, we share, we talk, and now we’re here—being intimate in every way. So I’ll ask again.” His voice was quiet but firm. “What kind of man do you think I am?”

She searched his face, her pulse fluttering against her ribs. “I think you’re the kind of man who doesn’t care if I can’t run a marathon.”

A slow, knowing smile spread across his face. “That’s absolutely right.” He shifted, brushing another kiss against her temple. “I don’t care if you run marathons, baby. As long as you run to me for whatever you need.”

A shuddering breath left her, something breaking loose inside her chest, something she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding on to. She didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate. Her hands fisted in his hair, and she pulled him down, crashing her lips to his.

It wasn’t a soft kiss. It wasn’t careful. It was deep and consuming, filled with everything she couldn’t say, everything she wanted, everything she was terrified to believe she could have.

His groan rumbled against her lips as he rolled her beneath him, his weight settling over her, surrounding her.

And as his hands roamed, as his lips claimed her again and again, she knew he wasn’t just saying words. He was showing her how much she meant to him.