Page 87 of After You

He thrust in and out, watching her the whole time, taking in every detail of her reaction and gritting his teeth against the sensations streaking down his spine with every thrust. He was climbing toward his climax quickly, and he wanted her there withhim.

“Hannah, honey—” But before he even finished the sentence, she clamped down on him with acry.

He let go with a roar, coming harder than he ever had, emptying himself inside of her. The first time he’d ever done that with a woman. And it was the most blissful, I-can-never-go-back experience he could have imagined.

They slumped against each other, the dryer rumbling underneathher.

It was several minutes before Kyle could even lift his head off her shoulder.

Before he could figure out what exactly to say that didn’t come out as holy shit or please don’t ever leave, Hannah smiled up athim.

“Chalk one up for spontaneous,” shesaid.

He chuckled. “Don’t think for a second that I wouldn’t have written hottest fucking sex ever in my planner if I’d known.”

She shook her head. “Part of the hotness was that it just happened.”

“This didn’t just happen,” he told her, stepping back, the sensation of pulling out of her equally hot damn. “This has been building since you gotback.”

She tipped her head. “Yeah. I mean I figured we’d sleep together. But I kind of thought there would be some scheduling, wintergreen breath mints, and some Tim McGraw involved.”

He watched her hop off of the dryer and grab a towel from the pile on the table to one side. She handed him one as well, then wrapped the huge, fuzzy yellow thing around her body. And he instantly wanted her uncovered again.

“Scheduling, wintergreen breath mints, and Tim McGraw?” he asked.

She laughed. “Sex always involved scheduling, wintergreen breath mints, and Tim McGraw.”

He frowned. But she was right. He’d always kept mints and condoms in his glove box, bedside table, stashed behind his video games in the basement, and had stuck some in the side pocket of Hannah’s purse. So they were never caught without. Of course, generally, they both knew exactly when it was going to happen. Thanks to the scheduling. Fortunately, he’d pretty much always had his iPod with him—and Tim McGraw’s greatesthits.

“I can’t even smell wintergreen without thinking of you,” she told him, watching him wrap the towel around his waist. “One sniff and I want tocry.”

That hit him right in the chest. He had hoped that she’d missed him. But hearing that she’d cried hurt now. Maybe because he now knew about her neck and her physical pain. Dammit. She was even making him feel bad about her feeling bad—something he’d hoped for even up until the otherday.

He reached out and pulled her against him. “Well, now you can smell it, eat it, whatever again. Because I’m right here. Nothing tomiss.”

She gave him a smile, but it wobbled at the corners, and he knew exactly what she was thinking.

Fornow.

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