Fight to the Finish (First to Fight #3)(73)

For a second time, his heart swelled. “Thank God.”

“Yes, exactly. But I want to make something clear. I was doing it myself. I’d met with Tasha that same day to get the paperwork started. Before—or maybe right at the same time—you went to Henry’s home to confront him. I’d made the choice to do so. Do you know why?”

He shook his head, though he hoped he did.

“Because I wanted to be free. Free to make the choice. Maybe we wouldn’t work out, for whatever reason. Maybe I wanted to get married to someone who lived in Boston, or Copenhagen.”

That made him roll his lips in to keep from smiling.

“Or maybe I just wanted to take my son to see the Grand Canyon. I wanted the choice, without an axe being held over my head. So I decided to take the controlling step. The step that gave me my power back. The one where I got my choice back.”

“And?”

“And I choose you. I love you. Zach loves you, too, which is nearly as important as me loving you.”

“Nearly,” he agreed, itching to reach for her.

“But even if I didn’t love you—which I do—you would forever be special to me as the man who influenced me, who encouraged me, who made me want to take that step toward independence. Now I get them both. My independence, and you.”

“Hell yeah, you do.” He reached for her then, because he couldn’t do anything but that. She wanted the choice, but his choice was long gone. She was it for him, come hell or high water.

Her tank top came off almost by magic, with her bra quickly following. They rolled and slid around the slick bedspread, tearing off each other’s clothing until they were naked as the day they were born. He entered her in a slow thrust, hooking one of her knees with his elbow to change the angle and deepen his penetration.

Her head tossed around on the pillow, thrashing and causing her hair to spread in a wild tangle. “More, more. Here.” She took her leg and bent until her thigh was all but parallel with her torso, her knee next to her ear.

Hot damn. Thank you, yoga.

He slid out, until just the head of his cock remained in her entrance and her eyes widened, then sank again slowly. They had hours alone, and no worries about a young son to run in and interrupt them. He intended to eke out every ounce of pleasure he could before he had to be back.

“Harder,” she begged. “Graham . . . Graham, please.”

“Trust me,” he whispered, pulling out again at an achingly slow pace, and back in again. He was so deep inside her, so tight against her. Nothing could separate them. Nothing would. He would love her forever, make her his forever. Use this lovemaking to cement in their minds the commitment their hearts had made to each other.

He could have stayed like that for hours, simply slipping and sliding in and around her body. Toying and teasing until they were sweaty and panting and near-crazy with need. Another day, another time, he probably would. For now, he contented himself to watch her face every time he pushed into her. Her eyelids twitched, her lips curved and she made a little humming sound of pleasure. As if she were napping in a hammock, and a gentle breeze rocked her.

But even his heart couldn’t fully control his body, and soon he felt the buildup of an orgasm he was helpless to tamp down. Reaching under her raised thigh, he massaged at her clit with his thumb, taking his cues from her changing expressions, until her eyes flew open and met his.

“Graham,” she whispered, just before the wave crashed over her and she climaxed. He flexed and held on as long as possible, wanting to give fully to her, before he could hold out no longer, and followed.





CHAPTER


22

“I don’t know what kind of prize you get if you win this boxing tournament,” Kara said, idly scratching Graham’s back, “but you get my vote for the gold medal in making love.”

“Aw, thanks baby.” He kissed her shoulder, as if that were the only part of her he could reach without moving. He was exhausted, that much she could see. But still, he’d managed to rock her softly into an amazing orgasm. The man’s talents knew no bounds.

Snuggling against him, she sighed. “I’m sorry I can’t stay for the finals. I changed the ticket you bought me to take me home day after tomorrow. I could only get three days off from work . . . and I had to beg pitifully for that.” Not to mention, she couldn’t justify missing more than that, budget-wise.

“You came. That in itself is a miracle to me.” He nuzzled at her temple. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Maybe I shouldn’t say that right after you rocked my world downstairs, but it’s true.”

“‘Rocked your world downstairs,’” he repeated on a laugh. “That’s a new one. But I believe you.”

“Good.” She waited to see if he would add anything, but he seemed content to just lay with her in his arms. “You’ve got another hour or so, right?”

“So sayeth the clock.”

“Maybe we could talk a little about the practicalities.”

“Practicalities. Not sure if I can manage it, since I think my brain is still liquid. Can I just say how much I appreciate your job? This whole flexy-bendy thing is really growing on me.”

“I bet,” she said. “But I mean, what happens when we get home. The termination is going to happen, but it takes a while.”