“Jace?” she asked, peering back at him.
“Yeah?” He propped himself up on the pillows.
Hands on hips, she faced him, all sass. She was sexy as hell. “Menu?”
But there was laughter in her voice.
“I’m thinking. Give me a minute.” He didn’t bother pretending he wasn’t giving her a thorough once-over. He was—and enjoying every minute of it.
She laughed. “Food.”
“I’m not that hungry…for food.” He paused. “Seems I have one hell of an appetite for you.” She had a powerful effect on him, one he had no interest in denying. His body was definitely rising to the challenge.
And she noticed. “Really?” It was breathless.
“If you’re too worn out…” He shrugged.
“You think that’s going to work?” She shook her head, but she was heading back to his side of the bed, standing beside him—close enough to reach. The look on her face? She wanted him to touch her. He could do that.
“What?” he asked, his hand stroking up the inside of her thigh.
It was a sigh. “This.” She leaned into him.
“No.” He ran his fingers between her legs and groaned. She was warm. So damn soft. “Maybe.”
She didn’t waste any time. Once a new condom was in place, she was straddling him, her breath powering out of her as she slid down his rigid length. Her hands gripped the headboard, his steadied her hips. It was hard, fast, and face-to-face. She didn’t shy away from him but held his gaze. Thrust for thrust, he soaked up every hitch and moan, the hot slide of her body and the sway of her breasts.
“Jace.” She was close. He caught her face, swallowing her near-screamed release with a kiss and powering into her until his followed.
She slumped forward, gasping for breath, her cheek against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, stroking the length of her back. This was right. He couldn’t imagine anything better than this. Holding her close and breathing her in.
“You feel good.” It was true.
She didn’t respond.
“Hungry?” Another stroke, another shudder.
She nodded but didn’t move.
He leaned back against the headboard, content to stay wrapped up in her for as long as she wanted. For the first time in a long time, there was no push to hurry through or get something done.
Even in his dreams, she was there. Her silky arms around him. Scent flooding his nostrils. Her hair spread across his chest. He slept hard and woke up refreshed. So waking up to an empty bed, no sign of Krystal anywhere, was a kick to the gut.
It’s not like he’d hoped to find her smiling up at him in his bed… No, hell, that’s exactly what he’d hoped. Why wouldn’t he? Last night had been all good. She’d felt it, too. Maybe that’s why she’d cut and run? The only way Krystal seemed able to process feelings was through song—either writing them or singing them.
Which gave him an idea.
He downed a pot of coffee and stood under scorching hot water to ease the crick in his neck, but he was dragging when he climbed into the elevator.
A text alert pinged his phone.
Heather. She sent a selfie. She was holding up a magazine. The Kings were on the front but a small headshot of him was in the corner.
Proud of you, big brother.
He smiled. Miss you.
How’s it going? She in love with you yet?