Page 59 of Hero Hair

“Amazing,” I reply. Perhaps it’s the way I’m going about asking. I’ll take his lead. “How was it for you?”

“Worth the wait,” he says. Finally, he leans away from me. “Fucking amazing. I want to fuck you again. And again. And I’m thinking about it right now even though you violated my shower.”

I huff. “You violated it first,” I say. “So we’re clear. I like your cock very much too. And the fact you know what you’re doing. I want to fuck you multiple times as well.” And I’m falling in love with you.

I tuck my fingers into the waistband of his towel. His dimples pop. Just one side, though. “Why was answering that question hard, Macs?” I use his name in hopes of getting his attention.

He sighs. “I thought I could fuck you out of my system.”

“I’m in your system?” I ask, grinning.

He shrugs. “And it looks like you’re staying there for the foreseeable future.” He shifts uncomfortably. I see the cost it takes to admit this to me. “If you want to be there.” There’s question in his gaze. He’s asking, even though he stated it as fact.

I put him out of his misery right away. “I want to be in your system. In fact, wait here,” I say, holding up one finger. I retrieve my cell phone from my bag, open the camera, and hand it to him. “Take a photo of me,” I command.

Macs quirks a brow and looks at me like I’m crazy.

“Just do it. Take a photo of me right now.”

He raises the phone up and focuses with a tap of the screen. I try to look innocent while topless, but sexy because I am wearing a black fucking thong. I smile softly, no teeth. He smiles at the screen as he watches me fidget to find a proper pose. He clicks the button a few times.

“Send the photo to yourself,” I say.

He doesn’t reply, but I can tell he’s going through the motions to send the photos, plural, to himself because his grin doesn’t fade a smidge. He hands me the phone back. I snap a quick photo of him, and he makes a move to duck out of the frame, but ends up smiling wider than he was before. I click the droolworthy photo and toss my phone in my bag.

“What was that about?” he asks, stroking my nipples in between his large fingers.

My body has become his. I can tell by the way he touches me. No one else has ever touched me with such reverence, with such appreciation.

“You’ve realized by now that photos mean different things,” I say, watching the muscles ripple in his arms. “That one you just took of me was the moment I knew I was falling for you.” I swallow. The words tasted dangerous, villainous—traitorous. I don’t back down from them. I face him head-on, bare of any pretenses.

His hands still on my chest, and I chance a glance up. His eyes are on my mouth. “Say that again. But look at me,” he whispers.

“I’m falling for you. Not because you’re an amazing fuck, either.” Adding humor to soften the emotional blow is a tactic I’m going to always use with Macs. He responds to that.

His face is stoic, completely unreadable. He doesn’t respond or reply to my sentiment. He leans down and kisses me so passionately, there’s no question he feels the same way. He holds me tenderly, like I’m a fragile doll expected to break any second if he doesn’t show me how he feels using his lips and his tongue. I see stars and fireworks and my stomach turns as my hands wander up his chest.

It’s not falling. In this moment I know it’s not. It’s love. And everyone is right. It feels like nothing else. Goosebumps prickle my skin and I’m aware of him and nothing else. The world vanishes around us and whatever our chemistry has transformed into. He picks me up and backs me into the wall. I lock my hands around his neck and meet his kiss head-on, telling him I know what he’s trying to explain without words. I’m hot and chilled to the bone. I’m terrified. He has all the power and I’m helpless to surrender. I clutch his hair in my hands now to intensify the kiss and to try for some control.

It’s a tugging match of power. He wants it. I want it. The common denominator is we both want it for the same reason. We know what power means. What it can destroy.

Everything.

Somewhere during our kiss he lost his towel and he’s fumbling in the bathroom drawer and comes away with a condom. He tears the package open with his mouth and has it rolled down his erection in mere seconds. I realize that’s a skill well practiced. My back is against the bathroom wall again as he fills me. He fucks me so hard he leaves his hands on either side of my shoulders flat against the wall and pins me and my weight with only his hips and dick.

It’s a quick, blissful pace, but he’s kissing me with the same passion as before. He chants my name like a prayer in between stealing my breath.

This time it’s quick and my orgasm takes me fast and hard. I slump over his shoulder when he comes, his cock buried as deep inside me as it will go. Minutes pass and we stay connected that way. Him holding me while I’m tangled around him. We end up back in his bed, under the covers.

I’m rolled onto my side, looking at him as he gazes back at me. He looks like he’s trying to figure me out. The feeling is mutual because from this angle, lying in bed with him, I want to know what it is about him, too. I trace the planes of his face with my fingers. He doesn’t take his hand off my hip and the side of my stomach.

“I’m glad you told me,” he says. His voice is creaky. Neither of us has spoken for what seems like forever.

My nail brushes over his bottom lip. It’s so full. “I didn’t know how you would respond. If I knew it would be with orgasms, I would have told you sooner.”

He offers a soft smile. “Consider me felled, Teala.”

I flick my gaze up to meet his. “Yeah?”

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