It was Roz. And he most definitely would be waking up with her in the morning. So many mornings that he was at a loss how to avoid the significant overtones of this kind of sex, where they were apparently going to talk about stuff between rounds of pleasure.
Maybe that was the key. He just had to move them along until they were back in a place where there was nothing but heat between them. Clearly he hadn’t gotten her hot enough yet if she could still think about things outside of this room.
“Let’s talk about that later, shall we?” he murmured.
The tendrils of hair around her face had increased exponentially and he itched to pull the entire mass free of its confines. So he indulged himself. Leaning up, he plucked pins from her dark hair. Slowly, he let chunks of hair fall to her shoulders, and the enigmatic, slightly guarded expression melted away.
Better. She deserved about ten more orgasms, too. Enough that she could only focus on how good he could make her feel and not the crappy stuff about her life that he had an inexplicable drive to fix for her.
“Tonight is about making up for lost time,” he told her as the last pin fell free. “I thought I’d never see you again after Vegas. I can’t lie. I wanted to.”
Why had he blurted that out? They were supposed to be reeling back the true confessions, not throwing down more.
She blinked and let the tiniest lift of her lips register. “I’d like to say I forgot about you. I tried. Never happened.”
And here they were. Married. It was something he was having difficulty reconciling in his mind when Roz fit so easily into the “hot fling” box in his head. Surely there had been a woman at some point in the past whom he’d seen more than once, but he couldn’t recall the face of anyone but this one. She’d filled his thoughts so much over the past month or so that he suddenly feared he’d have a hard time getting her out when they divorced.
More sex needed, stat. Obviously. They were doing far too much chitchatting.
Reaching for her, he snagged her shoulders and hauled her up the length of his body, which went a long way toward reviving him for round two. She met him in a fiery kiss that shot sensation down his throat. Roz spread her legs to straddle him, this time hitting the exact spot he wanted her to be in, apparently on board with no more talking.
The heat built on itself instantly, putting urgency into their kisses, and the thrust of her tongue against his had sweet fire laced through it that he welcomed.
This time, there was no need to go slow and he didn’t waste the opportunity. Taking a half second to pull out the box of condoms he’d stashed in his bedside table in anticipation of their wedding night, he dove back onto her, rolling to put her under him so he could focus.
She needed oblivion. He could give her that. Taking her mouth in a fierce kiss, he let his hands roam over her amazing body, caressing whatever he could reach until she was moaning deep in her chest. Her blistering fingers closed around his erection, priming it, and then she reached for the condoms before he could. In what might be the hottest thing she’d done thus far, she rolled it on him, squeezing and teasing as she went, then notching him at her entrance.
He caught her gaze as he paused, savoring this moment before he plunged because it was his favorite. The anticipation built and she flexed her hips, eager for him but not taking the initiative, apparently content to let him go at his own pace.
Roz was his match in every way. The reality seeped through him as they stared at each other, their chests heaving with the exertion of holding back. And then he pushed inside and not even the feel of her mouth could match the exquisiteness of the way her silk caressed every millimeter. He sucked in a breath as she took him deeper, wrapping her legs around him to hold him inside.
The pressure and tension climbed until he had to move, to feel. Gasping, she arched against him, grazing her breasts against his torso, and that felt unbelievable, too. Sensation swirled, driving him faster and faster and she closed around him again and again, squeezing until she was crying out her pleasure. His second release built and she was still watching him, her eyes dark and sensual and so open that he fell into them, hopefully never to surface.
They exploded together and it was only as they came down, wrapped in each other’s arms, that he realized that they’d done it missionary style, like a real couple. A first. He’d have said he hated that position but it had felt so right with Roz. Something warm lingered in his chest as he pushed hair out of her face. She kissed his temple and snuggled deeper into his embrace.
This was maybe the most sated he’d ever been in his life. And they hadn’t even had sex that many times. Quantity had always been his goal in the past, but apparently quality trumped that. Because they’d gotten married? Because he knew they had tomorrow night and the next and the next, so he didn’t have to cram all his appetites into a few hours?
Whatever it was, it felt different. He liked it. Who knew?
This was uncharted territory and he didn’t quite know what to do with it. Sex hadn’t decreased the intimacy quotient after all. But he’d always shied away from that because rejection wasn’t something he dealt with well, or rather, more to the point, he’d never felt like finding out how well he’d deal with it.
His father had done such a thorough job of rejecting him that he’d lived most of his life with total hatred of a man he’d never met. That was what had made the pact with Jonas and Warren so easy. He had no interest in learning how much more it would hurt to be rejected by someone he’d fallen in love with. Obviously it had driven Marcus to a permanent solution. What made Hendrix so much more capable of handling the same?
The rational part of his brain kicked in. Honestly, he’d have to give a woman a chance to reject him in order to fully test that.
Had he been given an opportunity to do exactly that? Roz had been great so far in their relationship. Maybe she was the exception to the rule. Maybe he could test out having a little more with her...
He settled her a little closer, letting her warm him thoroughly, and snagged the sheet to cover them. They hadn’t slept at all that night in Vegas, so this would be a first, too. Waking up with a woman had also been something he studiously avoided, but waking up with Roz held enormous appeal.
If “more” didn’t work out, then they could get a divorce like they’d always planned. It was practically a foolproof experiment in something that he’d never have said he’d want but couldn’t seem to stop himself from exploring.
Eight
Hendrix and Roz had opted not to go away for their honeymoon, largely because that was something real couples did. But also because Helene had already scheduled a splashy fundraiser, the biggest one of the summer, for four days after the wedding. The event was supposed to generate the majority of the money needed to push her campaign through to the election. In other words, it was a big deal.
Helene had specifically asked them to make an appearance so it didn’t seem like they were hiding. Go big or go home, she’d said with a smile and Roz hadn’t really been able to find a good argument against attending. Though she’d racked her brain for one because a big social event with plenty of opportunity for her to feel like she still wasn’t good enough to be associated with the Harris name didn’t sound like fun.
The afternoon of, Hendrix came home from work early carrying a bag emblazoned with the name of an exclusive store that Roz knew only carried women’s clothing. Intrigued, she eyed the bag.