And there it was. The truth in all its discombobulating glory. But it’s not like it was a grand epiphany or anything. She’d known she loved him since she hopped off the plane in DC three months ago. She’d known she loved him because a hole had opened up in her chest when she watched the jet taxiing toward the runway, ready to take him to Chicago and far, far away from her.
Oh, sure. She’d tried to convince herself that what she felt for him wasn’t real. She’d tried to tell herself that it was some sort of hero worship or deep-seated infatuation brought on by the hell they’d been through together, by the way he’d helped her soldier on during one of the most difficult times of her life. But she’d eventually had to admit that it was neither of those things.
Getting to know Dan, seeing his grit and determination and true character shine through in Kuala Lumpur, had been like months of a relationship condensed into just a few days. They’d bypassed all the small talk and bullshit, skipped the part where they each put their best foot forward, and gotten right down to nitty-gritty. Right down to the core of each of them. And what she’d found at Dan’s core was something good and steady. Something to revere and admire. Something to…yes, love. But now the questions were: Does he see the same things in me? Does he feel the same things for me?
“Does it hurt any place else?” she asked him, determined to shove aside her tumultuous thoughts. She wasn’t ready to contemplate them. She wanted just a little more time. A little more happiness. You know, before she dropped her whopping, mega, ginormous bomb on him.
“You’re fine just where you are,” he assured her.
“Are you sure?” she teased, bouncing her eyebrows. “There’s no other place on you that hurts? Even a little?”
They’d started this game because they’d fallen into the bed after she finished him off with her mouth—and talk about h-h-holy shit; that had been hot. And as soon as their heads hit the pillows, they’d both gone out like lights. Just blink! Snoozeville.
Multiple, body-shaking orgasms will do that to a person.
At some point though, she’d rolled over, her arm flying wide because she wasn’t used to sharing a bed with anyone, and her hand had smacked him on the forehead, directly over his butterfly bandaged wound. He’d yowled and sat up, blinking in confusion. She’d shot out of bed like the mattress had turned into a snarling, toothy beast. But when they realized what had happened, they dissolved into laughter, crumbling back against the pillows.
In contrition, she’d leaned over and kissed his boo-boo. And one kissed owie had led to another kissed owie. So on and so forth, until they were here now. On their way to another round of getting hot and sweaty. Which you bet your ass was absolutely fine by her.
“Well,” he said, his eyes full of warm, sleepy desire, “there is one other place.”
“Let me guess.”
He threw the covers back, revealing his burgeoning erection. It was lengthening before her eyes, filling, thickening, the skin growing dusky with blood.
“Just as I suspected,” she said, biting the inside of her cheek. “But if memory serves, I’ve already kissed that boo-boo.”
“True.” His expression turned wide-eyed and innocent. “But now it’s aching again and—”
“Oh, you’re breaking my heart.” She pouted playfully.
“And you can see how eager it is for another kiss.”
When she glanced down, it was to find him fully aroused—which was always an awe-inspiring sight—and bouncing up and down on his flat stomach above the inky black letters of his tattoo. “All right already, you’re making it do that,” she accused him.
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Well, maybe,” he admitted. He smiled seductively and laced his fingers behind his head so she could fully appreciate the show he was putting on for her, but he inadvertently hit the framed photo on the nightstand, knocking it to the floor.
“Here, let me get it,” she said since it had fallen on her side of the bed. She leaned over the mattress and placed it back on the metal and glass table. When she turned back, it was to find Dan’s eyes on the picture. The look on his face was soft and peaceful.
“Who is she?” she asked curiously, staring at the redhead, admiring the woman’s small, compact frame. People always complimented Penni on her tall, lithe build, but they wouldn’t be so appreciative if they were forced to wear her legs for a day while flying coach. Ever since she was a girl, she’d wanted to be short and curvy and—
“My wife,” Dan said, his head cocked, his expression all about the well, duh.
“Pardon me?” she asked, digging a finger in her ear.
“That’s my wife,” he repeated.
The bottom fell out of her stomach. Just gone. And her heart dropped down to take up the void. If her life was a movie, this is the part where the sound of a needle scratching across a record would echo in the background. “Y-you’re married?” She recoiled.