He uses a puffy sponge to clean my body, dragging it slowly over my br**sts and hips. Then he lifts one leg to the side of the tub and spreads me open, his hands slick and soapy. “I’m not dirty there,” I say.

“You were never dirty there,” he says. He looks up at me. “But I plan to lick it, so I want to clean it. Sue me.”

He spreads me open with his fingertips and I lean back against the shower wall, letting him take me with him into a world of pleasure. He’s my Pete, and he’s always known what I need. He parts my lower lips with his fingers, slides a digit inside me. Pete used to be afraid to love me, but now he plays my body like he owns it, because he does. If I don’t want what he wants, he’ll stop, and I know that. It took him a while to learn that, but he got it. He’s what I need in every way.

His lips find my clit and he latches onto it, suckling gently in time with sudden, fierce strokes inside me. My knees will barely hold me up, but I don’t want him to stop. I don’t want to go to the bed, because this is good. It’s so good. He sucks my clit and adds another finger inside me. His eyes are closed because the water from the shower is pounding over his head. I turn the nozzle to the left, and his eyes open. I can feel his smile against me, but he doesn’t let up.

Suddenly, an orgasm crashes over me and I can’t hold back my scream. I thread my fingers into his wet hair and hold him in place. “Don’t stop,” I say as I ride out the pleasure. My body quivers and shakes and I let him take me all the way, until his ministrations grow painful. I jerk his hair and he lets up, licking slowly until I stop coming on his face. My God. He can undo me.

He stands up and hitches my legs around his waist again, pushing me against the shower wall. He’s usually not this forceful. “I love you so f**king much,” he says, as he pushes into me.

I slide down his hard, long pole, slick and wet, and he doesn’t stop the impalement until I’ve taken all of him. I’m full and so damn happy to have him inside me that I don’t care what position we’re in. “I can’t last long,” he says.

“Don’t,” I urge. I look into his face, cupping his cheeks in my hands as he pushes into me and pulls out, lifting and lowering me on him. He strokes so slowly into me, trying to hold off, to wait for me. “Faster,” I say.

He’s holding all of my weight, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Suddenly, he grunts and spends himself inside me. I squeeze him to me, my arms around his neck. He props me against the wall and leans both of us so that we’re still standing, but just barely. “If you ever f**king do anything like that to me again, I’m going to paddle your ass.” He chuckles. But he shivers at the same time. “Do you have any idea how scared I was?” He lets my legs drop and we both wash off again and then get out. He wraps a towel around me and one around himself. I follow him from the bathroom. “How could you scare me like that?” he asks.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “But if I’d told you, or even told my dad, one you would have tried to kill him. This way was better.”

“You’re right,” he says. “Not about this way being better, but I would have killed him. Or made him wish he was dead.”

He drops his towel and starts to get dressed.

“You should call my dad and tell him what happened,” I suggest.

He scoffs. “Do I look stupid?” He points at me. “You did this. You tell him.” He comes and kisses me quickly. “I’m really proud of you,” he says against my lips.

Then he goes out into the kitchen and picks up his cell phone. I assume he’s calling his brothers. They’ll need to know, too. Just like my dad. I call my dad, and he tries to ream me a new one about putting myself in danger, but I can hear my mom cheering in the background, and she’s teary when I talk to her.

“So proud of you, Reagan,” Dad says.

“Thanks, Dad,” I say. Then we hang up and I go sit on the couch with Pete.

His brows are drawn together. “Just got a weird text from Logan,” he says.

“Oh,” I breathe. “What did he say?”

“He said he and Em are getting married in a few days at the court house.” He looks up. “Why would they do that?”

I grin.

He shoves my shoulder. “What do you know?”

I wince. “I’m not supposed to say anything.”

“Well, I’m not supposed to lick your pu**y, but I do it every time you want.” He laughs.

“Emily was worried that she’s preggers,” I admit.

“What?” he gasps. He reaches for his phone.

“Wait!” I cry. I grab his phone. “It’s a secret. Don’t tell him you know.”

“I’m supposed to keep a secret like that?” he asks, astonished.

I nod. “Yep. You can’t even tell Sam.” I think he tells Sam everything. “I told her I wouldn’t tell.”

“Logan’s going to be a dad,” he says quietly. Reverently.

“Yeah,” I say and I lean my head on his shoulder.

“So, when do I get to knock you up?” he suddenly blurts out.

I stare at him. “You want to knock me up?”

“Well, yeah,” he says, like I just asked the dumbest question in the world. Pete has a good job now working with the boys at the prison, and he goes to school part time for criminal justice. I haven’t graduated yet, but soon, I will.