Page 23 of Texas (Route 69 #1)

Later, the clinic is finally quiet, except for the sound of Kristin’s light laugh echoing down the hall as she hugs Donna goodbye at the door.

I stand in the doorway of her office, watching her until she closes the front door behind Donna and leans against it, finally letting out a breath I imagine she’s been holding for a long time.

When her eyes meet mine, I see all of it.

Relief, exhaustion, a hint of fear still in her eyes, and something else too.

Maybe it’s just hope. I want to say something clever, but all that comes out is, “You were incredible out there.”

Kristin smiles with a little shake of her head, like she can’t quite believe we pulled it off. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” she says, voice barely above a whisper.

I move to her and press my forehead to hers, breathing her in. “You did it all yourself,” I murmur. “I just watched you burn Will’s world down.”

She closes her eyes, her hands coming up to rest on my chest, fingers splayed over my heart. The silence between us is heavy. It’s like the air right before rain. Electric, charged, and full of promise. I tip her chin up with my thumb, and I kiss her.

Her lips are soft at first, tasting me, inviting me in.

She sighs into my mouth, her body melting against mine, and I feel her let go.

The last of the armor drops. Walking her backward to the desk, I never break the kiss, hands mapping the curve of her spine, and the slope of her hips.

She sits on the edge, knees parting for me, her skirt riding up to bare smooth thighs.

I take my time, sliding my palms up her legs, feeling the heat of her skin, and the tremble in her muscles.

She reaches for my shirt, fingers slipping under the hem, tracing the line of my stomach.

Her touch is gentle but there’s an urgency there too.

I pull the blouse from her shoulders, baring her to the light, and let my hands roam over her skin.

She’s flushed everywhere. On her neck, chest, and the soft skin above her heart.

Her nipples are peaked, begging for my mouth, but I don’t go there yet. I want her trembling with anticipation.

She hooks her legs around my waist, and pulls me in, her breath stuttering in my ear. “Reggie,” she whispers, then hesitates.

I cup her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek. “Tell me what you want,” I say softly.

She looks at me. “I want you to touch me,” she says. “I want to feel you.”

My heart hitches, then settles into something steady.

“Good,” I say, as I slide my hand between her thighs, parting her gently, finding her already wet and open for me.

I stroke her slowly and carefully, savoring the way she sighs, the way her hips arch into my hand.

I press two fingers inside, curling them to find the spot that makes her gasp, her hands flying to my shoulders, clutching me.

I hold her gaze, watching every flicker of pleasure cross her face, every shudder of need building.

Clinging to me, her breath comes faster, her body rocking to meet my hand.

“Don’t stop,” she whispers, voice breaking.

“Please, don’t stop.” I don’t. I keep the rhythm steady, my thumb circling her clit, my mouth pressing soft kisses to her jaw, her throat, the hollow at the base of her neck.

She’s trembling now, her whole body tight, her voice dissolving into little moans that go straight to my core.

I murmur her name, letting her know I’m not going anywhere. Not now.

When she comes, it’s quiet and intense, her body throbbing around my hand, her forehead pressed to my shoulder, and her breath hot against my neck.

I hold her through it, gentling my touch, waiting for her to come back down.

I kiss her hair, her temple, her cheek, and every inch I can reach. I want her to feel safe. Free.

Pulling me closer, her lips find mine, and there’s a gratitude in her kiss that undoes me.

“Lie down,” she says, voice husky, and I don’t argue.

I let her guide me to the leather couch against the wall.

She straddles me, her hands gentle as she undresses me, her fingers tracing the scar low on my belly, her mouth following with soft, open-mouthed kisses.

She looks up at me, and in her eyes I see everything.

Desire, tenderness, even a kind of awe that makes my chest ache.

Leaning in, she whispers in my ear. “I want to make you feel good too.”

There is no need to answer as she slides off me, and lowers her mouth to my center, tongue slow and thorough, her hands steady on my thighs.

There’s nothing rushed in the way she tastes me, nothing selfish in the way she brings me to the edge, then holds me there, drawing out every shiver, and every gasp.

I thread my fingers into her hair, not to control her, but to anchor myself.

When I come, it’s with her name on my lips, and her mouth on my skin.

I ride the wave, letting go of everything but what I feel in the moment.

After my body settles, I pull her up into my lap, her arms around my neck, her face buried in my shoulder.

I hold her close, my hand stroking her back.

For a long time, we simply breathe together and let the world outside the office fade to nothing.

We may have won the battle, but the war isn’t over, not by a long shot.

But tonight, in this office, with her body warm and tangled in mine, I know in my heart we can win.