When I Need You (Need You #4)(90)

It wasn't long until her fingers went from clutching the couch cushion to gripping my hair.

That bite of pain unleashed a primal need inside me. I was relentless in driving her to the tipping point.

As soon as her legs started to shake and she chanted that "oh god, oh god, oh god" mantra, she blindly reached for my hand as if she needed a solid piece of me to anchor her as she lost herself in the pleasure.

Rowan Michaels letting go might've been the hottest thing I'd ever seen.

Finally the tension in her hips and thighs and belly went slack.

I moved up her body, keeping as much of her skin in contact with mine as possible. Marveling in her softness and strength. Drawing her scent into my lungs. Swallowing down the tangy taste of her.

Feeling the change in her from languid to expectant, I slid our joined hands above her head and locked my gaze to hers.

I didn't need to guide myself inside her. Our bodies shifted into perfect alignment like we'd done this a thousand times before.

Her groan of satisfaction echoed mine when I filled her completely.

I eased out of that sublime tightness and thrust back in. Once. Twice. Three times.

As I kissed her, from her temple to her jaw, then dragged my lips down the cord straining in her neck, I picked up the pace, my heart pounding against hers, my skin slick with sweat, my blood pumping hot and hard enough to create a floating sensation in my head.

She arched up and whispered, "I can't breathe."

"Hold on." I rolled us to the side and grabbed the back of her thigh, draping her leg over my hip. In this position I wasn't crushing her, but I couldn't drive into her as hard. So with each upward thrust, I kept constant contact where she needed it most.

"God. That's so good."

"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.