Own Me (The Wolf Hotel, #5)

I lean against the sink and admire the view for a moment. Will I always feel this stir in my lower belly when I look at this man, even as the years pass and age erodes muscle and sags skin, when life has worn us down? Yes, I’m sure I will. All I have to do is close my eyes and imagine the electricity in his touch, the feel of his weight on top of me, the smell of his skin, and my pulse begins to race.

And yet now I see him differently than I did yesterday. Not worse. If anything, more human, more capable of mistakes.

More vulnerable.

Henry is a father.

He was quiet on the drive home from Philly, and when we arrived here, he went straight to the home gym, running on the treadmill for an hour as if running for his life. Maybe he was running from it. I still don’t know what he makes of this news.

He turns then, notices me standing there. “Get in here, Abbi,” he demands. His tone is hard and unmistakable. When he’s in this kind of mood, I always end up sore and supremely satisfied.

I slide my robe off my shoulders, allowing it to pool onto the tile floor. I slip into the shower stall behind him.

“I found the obit in the newspaper and sent flowers,” I say, ogling his hard ass and web of muscle over his back as he rinses the soap from his chest. “They’ll be delivered to the funeral home tonight, in time for the ceremony tomorrow.” An enormous arrangement that made me choke when I saw the final bill. “I put our names on it.”

“I was going to ask Miles to send them. But thank you.” He turns his head to show me his profile. “Should I go to the funeral? Would that be the appropriate thing to do? What do you think, Abbi?”

The word appropriate left the conversation sixteen and a half years ago, but I keep that to myself because he’s asking for my help to navigate this complicated mess. It’s so rare for him to do that. “I think it’s best you give Violet her space. Her mom just died. They haven’t buried her yet. She has her grandparents. She knows them. She doesn’t know you at all.”

He snorts. “She thinks she does.”

Moving in to loop my arms around his waist, I shut my eyes against the spray of hot water and press my lips against his spine. “She needs time, Henry. And then she’ll realize how lucky she is to have you in her life.” Is that what Henry wants, though—to be in this girl’s life? He hasn’t hinted where his head is at. “Thank you for letting me come with you today.”

“Let?” Finally, I hear a smile in his voice. “You surprised me. You’re not usually that forceful.”

“And you don’t usually give in so easily. Why did you?”

He pauses on his answer. “Because you tend to get insecure about women from my past, and I didn’t want to give you time to sit here and create something in your head that doesn’t exist.”

“I barely slept last night,” I admit sheepishly.

“I figured as much. I know you, Abbi.” He pulls my left hand to his lips, kissing my bare knuckles. “Where’s your ring? Having regrets about marrying me already?” he says lightly, but I don’t miss the edge in his voice.

“It’s on the bedside table.” I lay another kiss against his skin. “And don’t be silly.”

He turns in my arms so we’re facing each other, our bare, slick chests pressed together. “Are you sure?”

In his bright blue eyes, I see concern. It’s almost laughable, given it was me who was worrying about Henry having regrets just last week. I stretch onto my tiptoes until I can skate my lips against his. “Yes, I’m sure.”

He sweeps the damp, clinging hair off my face and leans down to kiss my forehead. “Let’s forget everyone and get married tomorrow.”

I slide my palms up and down his biceps, memorizing their size and shape. “That would be much easier.” With Violet storming into our lives the way she did, I haven’t had time to think about last night’s disastrous dinner in Greenbank. Mama hasn’t called or texted since and, knowing her, she’ll wait for me to make the first move. “But I want everyone I care about to be there when I marry the man I am hopelessly in love with.” I gaze up at him. God, he really is the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

His jaw tenses. “And you’re not afraid of the next thing that’s waiting around the corner?”

“What next thing?”

“I don’t know, but there must be one. It’s been one fucking catastrophe after another since we met.”

He’s not wrong about that. Since the night a burly lumberjack collected me from the docks of Wolf Cove, my life has been turned upside down.

The muscle in his jaw ticks. “I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to be done with me.”

I’m not used to Henry being the insecure one. I hate it. I muster as much confidence as I can because that’s what he needs from me right now. “What am I going to find out about next? Your secret foot fetish?”

The hint of a smile creeps out. “Funny.”

“There’s no need to be ashamed.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“Okay, fine.” Humor seems to be working on his mood, at least. “If it’s not that, what else could there be …” I tap my chin in mock thought. “Wait, I know. Of course, it’s so obvious.” I pause for effect. “Porn.”

Henry’s eyes twinkle. “You think I’ve been in porn.”

“Honestly? I wouldn’t be that shocked.” Henry’s only hinted about his previous escapades but, given there doesn’t seem to be much he wouldn’t try at least once, it wouldn’t be the most shocking discovery. “What would it be called? Let me guess … The Wolf of Porn Street?”

His deep chuckle echoes around the shower stall.

“Too obvious, right? How about The Big Bad Wolf Gets Pegged by Little Red Riding Hood? No, that’s too long. How about Little Red Pegging Hood—ah!” I squeal as he spins me around, his foot sliding between mine to force my stance wider.

“Tell me, where did you learn about pegging?” he purrs, pressing his hard length against the crevice of my ass as he herds my body forward, out of the water stream.

“Can’t remember.” I fall back against his chest. I don’t dare tell him that Connor and Ronan enlightened me one drunken night in their attempts to make me blush. It worked.

He bows his head to graze his teeth against my earlobe “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because …” My clever comeback fades on a gasp as Henry slides his hand between my legs. I shift to give him better access, which he eagerly takes, slipping two fingers deep inside me as his thumb works against my clit. He fills his other hand with my breast, stroking my pebbled nipple with the soft pad of his thumb.

I close my eyes and revel in his undivided attention, but it doesn’t last long before he releases me, coaxing my body forward with a hand pressed against my shoulder blades, forcing me to brace my palms against the tile wall ahead.

I steal a glance over my shoulder to watch Henry stroke his rigid cock several times. “Keep doing that.”

“No.” Our eyes meet, and heat floods my core when I see his blazing. This isn’t going to be gentle and that’s fine. I don’t want it to be.

I arch my back, taunting him.

With a curse, he lines up the head of his swollen cock and seizes my hips, his fingertips digging into my flesh almost to the point of pain.

I cry out as he thrusts deep into me.