“Someone has to keep an eye on you.”

He laughed and squeezed her to him. “You say that now, but if you feel differently later . . .”

Reagan looked up, her eyes clear and bright, and carrying a hint of mad. “I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions. Don’t patronize me.”

There was the independent spitfire he loved. “And you’re not just feeling some pity for me?”

“Stop patronizing yourself.” One finger poked him in the belly, and he gave an exaggerated groan for effect. “You’re hardly someone to pity. You had a shitty childhood. You were still a child when you had to make a very adult decision. You made the right one, because that’s who you were meant to be all along. A good man. So there’s nothing to pity about you. Unless you mean I pity you because you have to share the tiny bed in my room.”

That made him grin, then roll them until she was pinned beneath him on the couch. “Since all that does is force you to plaster this sexy body against mine all night, that’s hardly something to worry about.”

“Then no pity.” Her hands cupped his face, fingers tracing his eyebrows a moment. “We still have a lot of work to do. Namely, figuring out how to address this before that horrible reporter Cruise gets wind of it and makes it another notch in his proverbial belt.”

“I love it when you talk PR to me.” Nuzzling her neck, he whispered, “Tell me more.”

“I’m not sure,” she said softly, gasping when he sucked at a spot just under her ear. “Gregory Higgs, don’t you dare give me a hickey. It’s too warm to wear a scarf.”

His tongue soothed the spot. “Guess you’ll have to wear your hair down for a few days.” He grinned at her annoyed, pinched expression. “Oops.”

“Oops, my ass.”

“If you insist,” he said, then gripping the aforementioned body part, stood, taking her with him, and walked them back to the bedroom with her shrieks and laughter soothing over his healing heart.

CHAPTER

26

Reagan traced over the contours of Greg’s chest. His breathing was even, deep, indicating he was truly asleep. After the performance he gave her an hour ago, the man deserved some rest. But something had been missing.

More like something had been present that wasn’t welcome in her bed. Penance. He’d loved her with the same skill as he had all the times before, but she could see in his eyes, as he’d hovered over her, stroking in and out, that it wasn’t about his pleasure, but about hers and making her feel safe. Making her forget his mistakes. Saying he was sorry with his body.

That was all well and good in theory, but as far as Reagan was concerned, I’m sorry had no place in her bed. When they came together, it should be because of passion, carnal lust and love, if she were so lucky. Apologies and balancing the scales ran too close to power games and she wasn’t interested.

It was time to remind him just what loving each other in bed meant. Reaching down, she smoothed her palm toward his abdomen, watching as the muscles tightened in reflex when she touched. Dipping below the sheet, she traced over his hip bones and the tops of his thighs, smiling as she tickled the rough hair there. Greg murmured in sleep, but barely moved. She grinned and placed her head on his shoulder for support. Walking her fingers up his thigh, she grazed the length of his soft penis with a gentle fingertip, tracing the thick head before running it back down again to cup his balls.

His cock hardened gradually, with just the barest breezy touches. Her man was insatiable, and she loved it. She sat up carefully, watching as he readjusted to slide into the warm spot she’d vacated. His arm made a few futile sweeping gestures, as if searching for her even in sleep. The thought made her want to cry, but a good cry.

She bent over and carefully folded the sheet down, keeping an eye on his face for any changes. But he was all but dead to the world. There was no point in worrying about it. The instant she took his growing erection in her mouth, though, he shifted, lifting his hips in search of more. The length hardened further, reaching its max potential as she carefully lavished it with attention, stroking, licking and sucking on the shaft.

When he hissed, she peeked up, but found his eyes still closed, though his face was now scrunched as if in concentration.

As she gripped the base and squeezed, he shifted a bit more. Grabbing the condom was a feat of acrobatic proportions, but she managed. Rolling it on in the dark was a trial and error moment. But the first inch as she sank down on his length . . . that was all worth it.

His hips moved up instinctively, and she grinned. Even in sleep, he was able to find the rhythm and move.

She closed her eyes, rocked over him, and then muffled a shriek when his hands grabbed her hips in a tight grip. Glancing down, his eyes met hers in the darkened room.

“How long have you been awake?”

He tilted up, into her, and grinned. “Long enough to feel all the good parts.”

“And you let me crawl all over and contort myself to grab a condom for nothing?”

“Not for nothing.” He moved his thumb so he stroked over her clit once. “I sure as hell enjoyed it.”

She wanted to grumble, but couldn’t. Instead, taking advantage of his consciousness, she leaned over his body and kissed him. The rough hair on his chest abraded her nipples, making her gasp into his mouth. She moved her shoulders side to side to feel it again.

“You’ve got a bit of the kink in there, huh?” Greg asked.

“This isn’t about kink. This is about something more.” She flexed, pushed against him, ground herself down against the hardness of his pelvic bone and reveled in the power she seemed to hold. Watched his eyes glaze over in passion, watch his hands claw the sheets until he couldn’t hold off anymore and grab her hips.

And as he pumped into her, losing control, foregoing all need for apology or scale balancing, she smiled softly. This was what their lovemaking should be about.

She collapsed against him, felt his heart beating as hard as hers and sighed in relief. After a moment, he shifted them so that he spooned her back, arms wrapped around her.

“Not that I’m complaining, but can I ask what spurred on that wakeup call from heaven?” Greg tightened his grip around her for a moment to press a kiss to her sweat-dampened temple. “And believe me, you’re welcome to try again, anytime.”

“I wanted a do-over from the time before. I wanted to catch you when you weren’t thinking, where you were just reacting.” She stroked a hand down his forearm as it held her tight. “The time before bothered me.”

She heard him breathe deeply, felt his chest move behind her back. “What’d I miss? You’ve gotta tell me if I’m too rough, or if—”

“That’s not it at all.” She wriggled and scooted until she was facing him, then pressed a kiss to his nose. He was so precious, with those worried eyes and the slight scrunch between his brows. “It’s that I felt like you were trying to apologize with the sex.”

He said nothing, but the lines between his brows deepened.

“I don’t want apology sex. I know it’s a running joke with anyone over eighteen, but when we have sex, it’s not . . .”

“It’s not just sex,” he said quietly, and she was grateful he understood. Or at least, seemed to.

“I’d rather what we’ve got here be about something besides regrets.” She pressed one hand to his chest, felt his reassuring heartbeat, and sighed. “And now we’ve both earned some sleep.”

“Damn right.” He cuddled her against him once more, and she felt like finally, they were walking into the light together.

*   *   *

“I have an idea.” Reagan stroked over Greg’s back, scratching lightly, and he fought the urge to purr in response. “You might not like it, but I have an idea.”