When I Need You (Need You #4)

“Rowan. Baby, look at me.”

When she tilted her head back, I took her mouth in a no-holds-barred kiss. I needed a distraction to keep me from coming within the first two minutes of getting inside her.

Sweat dampened my hair. I rocked into her, feeling her tits bounce and slide against my chest. As hot as it was to feel her passion in the way she kissed me when we were joined like this, next time I’d bury my face in those luscious breasts as she rode me.

Rowan dug her fingernails into my lower back and tore her mouth away from mine on a gasp. “That’s it. Like that. Just like that. Yes.”

Good to know I wasn’t the only one with a short fuse.

Her interior muscles tightened around me and she sank her teeth into the ball of my shoulder as she came undone for the second time.

With her clinging to me, biting me, her climax squeezing me, I couldn’t hold back.

Fireworks, a nuclear explosion, a tsunami . . . nothing was as powerful as this.

The physical release unlocked something inside me. Something too overwhelming to give voice to. I pressed my mouth to the warm, sweet-smelling curve of her neck, grounding myself as the shudders racking my body slowly subsided.

In the aftermath, Rowan’s hands caressed my back, clutched my ass, slipped between us to press her palm to my heart. She whispered, “Jensen Lund. I am so crazy for you I don’t know what to do with it.”

I mumbled, “You definitely should keep me around while you’re figuring it out.”

“That was a given.” She nudged my face up and peered into my eyes. “Because you just moved up to spot one point five on my list of life priorities.”





Twenty-one


ROWAN




From the night Jensen and I took that leap to being lovers, our day-to-day lives had changed dramatically.

Calder accepted us as a couple right away, even assigning Jensen his own place at our table. I attributed the ease of the transition to Jens being present in Calder’s life from the start of our friendship. Now after we ate meals together, or watched TV at Jensen’s apartment, or hung out at the pool or the playground, most nights Jensen went to bed with me. That seemed to be Calder’s only complaint: jealousy that Mommy got to have more sleepovers than he did.

I still did most of Calder’s care on my own: bathing him, driving him places and setting up the child-care co-op with our newfound friends in building two. But some nights he asked Jensen to read to him instead of me. Some afternoons I’d find them immersed in Harry Potter or destroying the kitchen when they played Chopped.

Calder was a rule-following kid, so discipline wasn’t an issue. Jensen agreed to tell me if Calder acted in a way that might require “clarification.” We got a huge kick out of that word—it’d become the safe word between Lucy and Jax at camp.

While Jensen and I were very much together, the only place we were completely open about it was at Snow Village. Jensen swore his clubbing days had ended with his injury. Hanging out in a bar on a rare child-free night didn’t appeal to either of us. We weren’t hiding our relationship. We just built it in a place it could flourish, among the people who mattered to us.

After we’d been a couple for a few weeks, we’d driven to my parents’ farm. Between the football talk, the history talk and the sampling of the hard cider until the wee small hours, Jensen and my dad became fast friends. I sensed my parents’ relief in Jensen’s dealings with Calder and his open affection for both of us. I’d had to laugh—and blush—when after too many cups of apple wine my mother asked if Jensen’s rocket rocked my world. But I’d known she’d worried about me acting too cynical about love and relationships because of my early responsibilities as a single parent. She wasn’t impressed by Jensen’s looks, charm, fame or money. Seeing me happy with him, and him happy with me—and Calder too . . . that impressed her.

Calder and I had met both of Jensen’s brothers and their wives. Since Trinity taught at camp and Walker helped out building theater sets, Calder was comfortable with them. The fact that they had a swimming pool earned them bonus points. It’d taken him a couple of times to warm up to Brady and Lennox. Brady’s love of Harry Potter had won him over, as had Lennox’s new kitty, Chaos.

Jensen’s sister, Annika, and her husband, Axl, were spending a month in Sweden, so they weren’t around for the family gatherings. Neither were Jensen’s parents, as they too were off traveling the world. I’d heard so much about Jensen’s mother that the woman scared me. I had no idea how she’d take the news of her baby being shacked up with a single mother and her kid.

Friday afternoon I arrived at camp fifteen minutes before class ended. I hadn’t seen Jensen’s car outside, but I stopped into the office anyway.

Astrid was at her desk, conversing with a blond woman with her back to me.

Not wanting to interrupt, I started to back away.

But Astrid saw me and said, “Rowan. Wait.”

I froze in the doorway when the blond woman turned around and I realized she was Jensen’s mother.

Same blue eyes. Same blond hair. Same stunning bone structure.

“Mrs. Lund has been waiting for you,” Astrid said.

Oh shit.

She unfolded from the chair, as graceful as a cat.

Her clothes whispered money as she started toward me. She wore a sleeveless silk shell the color of ripe peaches, the front embellished with beads and rhinestones. A sheer chiffon gold-toned blouse covered her arms and skimmed her hips, drawing attention to her trim waist. A band of satin hugged her hips, the shimmery mint-green fabric flowing into palazzo pants that ended above her ankles. Gold leather gladiator sandals completed the ensemble, making her look every inch the imperial Valkyrie—dressed like a goddess but the fancy wrapping didn’t mask the warrior beneath.

Her smirk—identical to Jensen’s—indicated her awareness of the imposing image she presented. Gold bangles rattled on her wrist as she offered me her hand. “I am Selka Lund. Jensen’s mother.”

I took her hand. “I’m Rowan Michaels. Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Lund.”

“Come. Let’s walk.”

And I found myself being ushered out of the office, the Valkyrie still gripping my hand as she smoothly linked her arm through mine and bent me to her will.

Of course no one was in the hallway as she herded me out the side door to the playground.

Jensen had installed a picnic table so the staff could sit in the shade during lunch and keep an eye on the playground.

She sat on the bench and patted the spot next to her. “Sit. We shall chat.”

“I’ll stand, thanks.”

She lifted one dark blond brow. “You are feisty? Or just contrary?”

“Both. It’s harder for you to put me in a headlock if I’m standing across from you.”

“Headlock.” Her lip curled slightly. “I have no UPC moves.”

UPC? What the hell? “You mean . . . UFC?”

“Yah. Whatever. I am harmless.”

I laughed. “I doubt that.”

“My niece Dallas tells good things of you.”