He looked to the pillow over my head and muttered, “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this.”
I wrapped my arm around him and gave him a squeeze with it as well as my legs as I teased, “I thought tops for a guy was three times in one night . . . maybe.”
He looked down at me, brows raised. “You read that in some woman’s magazine?”
I quit smiling and stared at him.
Then I asked, this time seriously, “When you were twenty-three, could you go all night with a woman?”
“Greta—” he started hesitantly.
“No, really, I wanna know,” I told him.
“I didn’t have half a dozen people showin’ at my house tomorrow at eight with only three boxes for them to move, I could go all night tonight.”
I felt my eyes get wide right before they narrowed.
He was full of it.
“That’s impossible,” I declared.
He grinned. “And that sounded like a challenge.”
“No, Hix, it’s physically impossible.”
He dipped his grinning face close. “No, baby. See, the key is, to go all night, I gotta make it so you got your mind on other things so the last thing on your mind is counting how many times anything happens for me.”
My body experienced another shiver as I whispered, “Oh.”
“Though I didn’t know that when I was twenty-three, so to answer your question, yes. That three times is bullshit. But since then I learned how to play it so I can have all the fun doin’ a lot of the work but not all of the work, if you catch my meaning.”
I was still whispering when I replied, “I totally catch your meaning.”
He touched the tip of his nose to mine before he continued, “You want me to have a go at doin’ all the work, I’m up for that challenge too.” He pulled half an inch away. “Just not the night before I gotta wedge that couch out the door of my apartment without sending it flying over the side of my stairs.”
“I wondered how you got it in there,” I shared.
“Brute force and a promise to God I wouldn’t say ‘fuck’ for at least a week.”
I started shaking under his big body with my laughter. “Did you keep your promise?”
“Barely.”
I lifted up, brushed my lips against his and dropped back. “Go, darlin’, so you can come back and we can get some sleep.”
“All right, baby,” he murmured, returned my lip brush then rolled off.
I turned out one of the lights on the nightstand before he came back and Hix turned off the other one before he slid back in beside me and curled me into him.
Once there, I curled in deeper.
“Hix,” I called into the dark.
“Yeah?”
“I love it that you made a son who would ask my brother to go with him and his date to eat pizza.”
His arm around me pulled me even closer and I felt him do a slight curl before his lips touched the top of my head.
He settled back in before he murmured, “I do too.”
I turned my head, rubbing the point of my chin into his chest before I put my lips to it and whispered, “And I love it when you hold my hand when you’re moving inside me.”
His hand slid up my back, over my shoulder, so he could use the backs of his knuckles to stroke my cheek. “I’m glad, Greta, ’cause I love doin’ that too.”
I tilted my head back, rested my chin on his chest and looked at his shadowed face. “And I love it that your self-imposed, unnecessary ban on sex due to my broken nose, a ban you also imposed on me, is finally over.”
“Greta?”
“Yes?”
“You’re cute, you’re funny and you’re sweet, but you need to shut your mouth and go to sleep.”
Since he sounded like he was smiling when he said that, I grinned through the dark, turned my head and rested my cheek to his chest.
He kept stroking my face for a while before he moved his hand to curl it around my waist and hold me tucked to his side.
I loved other things about that night, about Hix, about his kids.
But I’d tell them to him later.
Right then, naked with my man naked at my side, I fell asleep.
I was on my hands and knees, naked, scurrying to the side of the bed in order to get in a better position to attack with the intent to win because this had gone on way longer than I expected and something had to give, when Hix’s fingers locked around my ankle.
He pulled it, which meant he pulled my knee out from under me. The other knee went as his hand left my ankle, both went to my hips, and he whipped me on my belly perpendicular on the bed, him between my spread legs.
He then yanked up my hips, putting me back on my knees.
And at this maneuver (not the first time it happened that session, but much stronger than all the others), the walls of my pussy convulsed.
I flipped my hair around so I could look over shoulder at him and they convulsed again when I saw the dark, hungry expression on his face as he stared down at my ass.
Right.
Naked bed wrestling with Hix was over.
It was time to get down to business.
“Fuck me,” I whispered and his eyes sliced to mine. “Fuck me, Hix. Hurry.”
One of his hands left my hip and dove between my legs, scoring a path of electricity from clit to nipples that made my hips jerk and would have made my mouth protest that was all he gave me, no matter how good it was, if he didn’t lean away and I didn’t hear the drawer of his nightstand opening.
I ground into his hand and he fingered me as I watched him tear into the condom packet with his teeth.
God.
That was hot.
“Baby, hurry,” I breathed, rocking against the magic of his fingers.
His gaze came back to burn into mine as I felt him shift closer, his movements, the promise of what was about to come making the insides of my thighs quiver as I tried to brace.
And then he was there. The tip of him at my opening.
He removed his hand, both went to my hips, and I reared back as he thrust in.
I tossed my head, feeling my hair drifting over sensitive skin, as I moaned low, “Yes.”
He curled over me, mounting me, one hand cupping my breast, fingers pulling at my nipple, the other arm slashing across my upper chest, fingers curling around my shoulder, hauling me back into his drives.
God, he was good at this.
“Yes,” I whimpered it this time, moving with him, meeting his thrusts, the noises of our flesh slapping together sounding in the room mingled with his quiet grunts, my muffled mews.
My whole body quaked when his teeth sunk into my shoulder blade and he growled, “Who won?”
He wasn’t serious.
“Just fuck me,” I begged.
He pulled out so I only had the head.
I twisted my neck to spear him with my gaze. “Don’t stop.”
“Who won, Greta?”
“Fuck me, Hix.”
He tugged hard on my nipple, grinned a grin that should be illegal it was so damned sexy, and repeated, “Who won, gum drop?”
I was going to kill him.
After he finished fucking me, of course.
“I want your cock back,” I demanded, and him being a man who liked using his cock the way he’d been using it, I didn’t think I’d have to say it twice.
“You’ll get it, you declare me bed wrestling champion of the millennium.”