Page 105 of Trigger Happy

Scratch that—one second.

My orgasm barrels through me faster than it ever has before, and then I’m coming down her throat. I can barely get out the words to warn her.

When it’s over, I look up. Her face has gone soft in the morning rays. The cunning gleam in her eyes and that coiled tension like she’s ready to run or shoot, it’s all gone. She lies down on the bed with her hair fanning out around her and looks up at me beneath her lashes. That’s all she does, but my chest clenches.

She needs to be in control of every situation, and there’s no world where she’d do this with someone she doesn’t trust. She won’t even let me clean her knives for her, but she’s doing this with me, of all people.

It’s making me feel a lot of things I’ve never felt before.

“Are you okay?” she asks, gray eyes going soft. “You look like you’re having a stroke.”

Or a heart attack. My pulse is thundering.

“Fuck,” I pant, still trying to catch my breath. “I love y—”

My lips slam shut.

Holy shit. What the hell am I thinking? I can’t believe that almost slipped out.

The only women I’ve ever said that to are Ma, my horse, and the waitress at Mary’s Taco Shop who said my fifth chorizo, bean, and egg was on the house. I never even said it to Katya.

But Sabrina, she’s…

She annoys me half the time, that’s for sure. Well, maybe a quarter of the time now, but I like how she’ll have typed out a list in her Notes app that goes all the way to plan Z while I’m still sharpening my knife. And even though she makes me sherpa around her military-grade backpack, she packs those pumpkin cinnabon things since she knows I get pissed when I’m starving, so I don’t complain. And she keeps me on track when my attention feels out of control.

She listens without trying to fix anything, too.

That’s a big one.

I’ve also stopped chugging limoncello thanks to her. Another big one. And she turned me on to those Mulberry silk eye masks. I’m sleeping better than I have in years now. Yeah, our families might scorch down the place if they ever get in the same room, but even on our worst day, I’d take bickering with her over peace and quiet with anybody else.

Well, shit.

Sabrina kisses her way up my stomach, licking each one of my abs. “Good morning.”

I laugh, relieved she didn’t hear what I almost said. “Good? More like the best morning of my life.”

“We’d need those maple bacon doughnuts for that to be true.”

“Doughnuts after morning head? You know me too well.”

Her lips meet mine, and I try to keep her trapped against my chest, but after a quick peck, she swings her legs over the bed.

“What’re you doing?” I say, trying to grab the rim of her panties to tug her back. “Come back here. Let me return the favor.”

She knots a robe around her waist. “Trust me. You returned it in full last night.”

“Four times if I remember,” I say. “How ’bout we go for a fifth?”

“I can’t. I have to pack for the hike. It’s already eight thirty.” Her hair’s a mess, and I like knowing it’s because I had my hands all over her last night. Last night was… Goddamn. Best night of my life, hands down. I need a repeat.

I drag her to me and push her back on the bed, hovering over her. “What kind of pathetic excuse for a fake husband would I be if I didn’t know how to get the job done quick and efficient?”

She smiles up at me. “Oh, efficient? Don’t talk dirty to me, Mr. Chastain.”

“You haven’t heard dirty talk. I can be very…” I kiss up the column of her throat. “Productive too.”

She laughs a little, arching toward me. “Stop. You’re going to make me come.”