Page 17 of May's Bad Boy: Kody

She doesn't say anything. Doesn't need to.

She leans into me, her head resting on my shoulder, and I wrap my arm around her without hesitation, pulling her in like she belongs there.

Because she does.

Eventually, we go inside. She walks ahead of me, barefoot, wearing one of my shirts that hangs off her shoulder. I don't know when it started to drive me crazy. Maybe the first night she wore it. But now, watching her move through our space like she owns part of it, like it's hers too... it undoes me.

When she turns around in the bedroom, I don't wait. I cross the space between us and kiss her.

It's not soft this time. It's not cautious. It's hungry.

Her hands fist in my shirt as I back her toward the bed, mouths colliding, bodies already flushed and pressed too close to be innocent. I lift her onto the mattress and crawl over her, my fingers brushing up her thighs, pausing just long enough to make her breath hitch.

"Tell me to stop," I murmur against her throat, lips ghosting over the sensitive spot beneath her jaw. "And I will."

She answers by arching into me, dragging my shirt over my head with shaky hands. "Don't stop."

Clothes fall away piece by piece until there's nothing between us. My hands roam her body, reverent and aching, learning every line, every sound she makes. She's beautiful. Strong. The soft curve of her hips, the tremble in her thighs, the way her back arches when I kiss just beneath her ribs. I want to memorize every inch of her.

I slide down her body, kissing across her stomach, down her hips, and when I press my mouth between her thighs, she gasps my name like a prayer. Her fingers tangle in my hair, her legs tighten around my shoulders as I lick her clit slowly. She may be getting the pleasure, but in this moment, it's all for me, getting to taste how sweet she is, and I don't stop until she's shaking beneath me, moaning as her orgasm takes over her.

When I crawl back up, her eyes are glassy, cheeks flushed, lips parted. I kiss her again, slow and deep this time. She pulls me into her like we're made to fit—like she needs me inside her as much as I need to be there. Even though my cock aches, I don't want to rush this either.

Reaching for my wallet on the nightstand, I pull out the condom Shane tossed at me the other day like a joke, though I'm thankful for it now. I hurry to slide it on now, not wanting any more space between us than needed. When she pulls me back to her, I lock my eyes with hers and savor the connection there.

"Kody," she moans my name, almost pleading.

I line my cock up at her entrance and slowly push in. We both moan as I stretch her, making her pussy strangle me. We move together, slowly at first. My hand cups the back of her neck as our foreheads touch, our breathing syncs. The world narrows to just this—her sighs, the rasp of my name on her lips, the feel of her body pulling me deeper.

She feels too good, too tight. I want this to last all night, but she feels too good. So I reach between us and stroke her clit, because there is no way I'm coming before she does. Her nails dig into my back, her heels press into my thighs, and I can feel her holding back.

"Eyes on me," I whisper. "Don't hide from me. Not tonight."

Her eyes lock on mine, and she lets go.

Her release hits hard, loud, her body shaking as she clings to me. I follow her, my orgasm ripping through me like lightning, my arms tightening around her as we come undone together.

After, we collapse in a tangle of limbs, sweaty and breathless. I dispose of the condom and then pull her close, cradling her head to my chest, still trying to catch my breath. Her fingers trail lazy circles along my ribs.

"You okay?" I ask, brushing damp hair from her face.

She nods against me, voice soft and shaky. "More than okay."

We stay like that, skin to skin, until sleep steals her away. I stay awake a little longer, watching her breathe.

She's not just the woman I married to win a custody battle.

She's the woman I'd fight the whole damn world to keep.

CHAPTER 7

PAIGE

The library conference room smells like old paper and lemon cleaner, and the fluorescent lights hum faintly overhead. I sit at the end of the long table, fingers curled around a steaming cup of coffee Ruby brought me from the Merc. Across from me, Courtney unloads a box of paperwork while Miss Ada carefully unpacks a smaller pile of folders, her hands trembling slightly. Ruby stands at the whiteboard, already jotting down names.

I'm grateful for the friends I've made in Mustang Mountain jumping in to help me, but I'm exhausted. My body still aches from the stress of everything these past few days, but under the exhaustion, there's something else. I'm determined and I'm done being afraid.

We spread out refinance contracts from a handful of homeowners Ruby and Courtney helped contact, mostly widows and retirees from the far edges of town. They all look different on the surface, but the patterns are there now that I know what to look for.

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