Own the Wind(111)

Her hands made it to his ass, so he decided their conversation was over and to communicate that to Lanie, he asked, “Are we gonna keep talkin’ or do you want wow?”

She moved her head, sliding her lips from his, down his cheek to his jaw and finally his ear.

Once they were there, she murmured, “Give me wow.”

With his mouth at her neck, he trailed it down to her collarbone then engaged his tongue and, after, taking his time and a lot of it, he gave her wows five and six.

* * *

Hop came out of the bathroom to see Lanie on her feet on the other side of the bed, panties on, hands twisted behind her back putting her bra on.

He didn’t say a word. He prowled to her, reached out an arm the second he was close, yanked her to him, twisted and fell to his back in the bed, taking her down with him.

“Hop—” she started, pushing her weight against his arms but he slid her off him then wasted no time rolling over her and pinning her to his bed.

“Sleep,” he ordered when he caught her eyes in the weak dawn. “After rest, I’ll get coffee, we’ll juice up, then round four.”

She blinked and breathed, “Four?”

“Got lots more I want to do to you,” he informed her and watched her eyes go soft and sexier, her teeth came out to graze her lush lower lip, also f*cking sexy, and her arms slid around him.

But she asked, “What about Tack and Ty-Ty?”

“I’ll make sure the coast is clear,” he told her.

“But they’ll see my car,” she told him.

“I’ll move it,” he offered.

Her hand slid up his back, around his shoulder, and then to his neck, where her thumb moved to stroke him. It was light but f*ck, it felt good. He’d never had a woman touch him in an unconscious way like that, just a touch, a stroke, giving something that meant nothing and at the same time just doing it and doing it without thinking about it meant everything.

Shit.

Complicated.

“This is just supposed to be one night,” she reminded him quietly, but he saw it in her eyes. She didn’t even try to hide it. She bit off more than she could chew.

He did too, and he was nowhere near done eating.

“Change of plans. A night and a morning and, maybe, an afternoon and, possibly, another night,” he amended, and her eyes got softer as her hand slid up to cup his jaw.

“I have to work,” she told him.

“Call off,” he told her.

“I can’t. I own the joint,” she explained something he knew. “And things are a bit crazy.”

Things were always crazy for Lanie. The woman lived crazy, she thrived on it. If there wasn’t crazy, she stirred it up because she couldn’t breathe without it.

“Babe—” he pressed his body into hers “—told you, got more I want to do to you.”

He felt her shiver but her lips whispered, “Hop, I don’t—”

He cut her off with a quick kiss then lifted his head and asked, “Where are your keys?”

“We shouldn’t sleep together. Sleeping is bad. Sex is good, sleeping together is something else,” she stated, and she was right. Sex was sex. Sleeping together was something else.

He just didn’t care.

“Where are your keys?” he asked.

“Hop—”

“Lady, we’re not sleeping, we’re resting then we’re f*cking some more. Last time I’ll say it, not done with you, got things I want to do to you and I’m doin’ them. Now, where… are… your… keys?”

She stared up at him, her gaze hot, her body bothered, shifting under his, and she whispered, “Jeans pocket.”

He pushed into her, pressing down and stretching out to reach a hand to the floor. He grabbed her jeans, got in the pocket, and yanked out her keys. Once he had them in hand, he went back to her and kissed her. He took his time, it was wet, deep, and f*cking brilliant.

When she was holding on tight and kissing him back like she never wanted it to end, he ended it. Lifting his lips to her forehead, he touched them there then dipped his chin and looked into her eyes.

“Rest, honey. I’ll move your car and be back.”

“Okay,” she agreed quietly.

He bent in, touched his mouth to hers, rolled off, grabbed his jeans, a tee, pulled on socks and his boots, and he only turned back at the door before he slid through it, still mostly closed.

She was curled in an S in his bed, pillow to her chest, cheek resting on it, arms around it, hair everywhere. Her bare back was exposed, and he could see one leg and her ass in red, lace panties. Eyes on him.

Fucking gorgeous, every inch, and it tasted and felt as good as it looked.

She grinned.

Gorgeous.

He returned it, slid through the door, and went after her car.

When he got back, she was out.

He took off his clothes, dropped them to the floor, and slid into bed with her. Carefully, he turned her into his arms.

She didn’t wake. She just cuddled closer, her arm snaking across his stomach then holding tight, her torso pressing into his, her knee cocked and resting on his thigh.

This felt good too.

She was right, they shouldn’t sleep together. Sleeping suggested something more. An intimacy neither of them wanted. Sleeping like this with her, it feeling so good, it was, with everything else, enough to make you want a f*ckuva lot more.