“You are”—he looks down to watch as he gives another slow, deliberate slide—“very hot here, at least.”

I shift a little, struggling to hold on to coherent thought. “How sturdy is this table?”

“I don’t know,” Hunter tells me, his lips finding mine to curl lazily as he draws back to nudge at my entrance. “Guess we’ll find out.”

“Oh.”

I’ve lost track of how many times we’ve done this over the last few days, but even still, it takes me by surprise just how much of him there is. The way I’m sitting makes it easy for him to glide deep inside—my body welcoming him as he fills me up wholly. It’s not as all-consuming as it was when I was fully in heat, but even still, the feel of him has my skin prickling with warmth and my insides twisting with want. Heat or no, I think that’s just the effect he seems to have on me.

My nails dig into his shoulders when his hips meet mine, a rush of air escaping me, which he quickly swallows down as his mouth finds mine again.

“Fucking perfect,” he mutters against my mouth. “How are you so perfect?”

“I’m not really that per—Ah.”

His hips draw away to give me that slow, delicious friction as he pulls out, my eyes rolling back a bit as my belly tenses, flooding with warmth.

“Trust me,” he sighs, easing inside again as I gasp with it. “You are.”

He doesn’t hesitate to do it all over again, forming a steady rhythm, in and out, that has me clinging to him tighter. He isn’t looking at me—his gaze is fixed on the place where we’re connected, watching himself push into me. My eyes drift closed as I lean in to press my lips to his throat, mouthing there softly as I push my fingers into his hair.

“Hunter,” I breathe. “Right there.”

He pulls out just to drive back inside, hitting the place that makes me lose my breath. “There?”

“Yes.”

I feel one large hand at my shoulder, a finger hooking into my neckline to pull my sweater away, and then there’s the hot wet of his tongue and his teeth as he sucks at a place near my collarbone, which damn near makes me forget my own name. I pull him tighter, which seems impossible given how little room there is between us as it is, and through it all Hunter never stops the way he rocks into me, moving a little faster with each thrust as his stuttered breath washes against my shoulder.

“Hunter,” I huff at his neck. “Can you—? I just need—”

As if he can read my mind, I feel his other hand snaking between us, pressing against my clit, rolling the sensitive bundle under his fingertips as pleasure sparks between my legs and my thighs tremble.

“I love the sounds you make when you come,” he rasps into my shoulder. He bites gently before he licks it, and I shudder as I remember what he said about my mating gland. “Can you come for me?”

“Keep—Yes. Right there. Don’t—Please. Please don’t—Fuck, Hunter.”

He grunts when I come apart, my entire body shaking against his as I moan through my orgasm. It seems to go on forever with the way he continues to drive into me, chasing after his own release and prolonging that humming current that seems to be coursing through every inch of my skin. He’s loud and rough when he finishes, groaning nonsense that I can’t fully catch. Words like fuck and perfect and so good are the only pieces my brain can pick up on.

I feel his knot swell, pressing against my inner walls, leaving behind that delicious feeling of fullness, and I think there’s a good chance I might be a little addicted to the sensation. Will anything after this ever compare to him? Why does the thought of doing this with anyone else leave me irritated and a bit sad? I have to push the thoughts away, not wanting them to sour my mood.

His chest heaves against me as he holds me close afterward, his lips trailing along my jaw before they find mine. “I have no idea how we’ve gotten any work done this weekend.”

“It’s fine,” I assure him. “I remember back in my high school health class they said you’re supposed to share your body heat to avoid hypothermia in extreme temperatures.”

Hunter smiles against my mouth. “I don’t think this is what they meant.”

“Whatever. Same difference.”

I’m fully aware of how close he is—how full of him I still am—but none of this seems to faze Hunter. His face is hardly inches away from mine when his hands come up between us in that same adorable little would-be camera gesture as he makes a clicking sound with his mouth.

I bite softly at my lower lip. “Another moment you want to remember?”

He smiles as he kisses me again, and just when I think we might be here for a good while, there’s a click above us, causing us both to turn up our faces as a sudden blast of slightly warm air begins to pour from the vent overhead. Hunter’s surprised expression matches mine when his eyes find my face, and my lips tilt at the corners as I wind my arms around his neck once more.

“I guess they fixed the line,” he comments.

“Oh my God, we can shower,” I gush. I shift my hips, both of us wincing. “I definitely need one.”

“I keep making a mess of you,” he murmurs.

My smile widens as he closes the distance between us, brushing his lips against mine as he leans into the kiss. “I guess that means you should come clean me up then.”

“Are you asking me to shower with you?”

“That’s exactly what I’m asking.”

“Hmm.” He kisses me again, slower this time. “I can’t promise you’ll get clean.”

I grin against his mouth. “Sort of the whole point.”

“Eventually I have to take off this towel and get dressed.”

My arms wind around her a little tighter, pulling her closer to me under her bedsheets. “I’m okay with one of those things.”

“I’m just glad that we can lounge around in towels without freezing to death.”

“You Californians and your working central heat and air.”

“We aren’t too keen on the cold where I’m from.”

“Mm.”

I’m only half listening now, my body lax and warm against her as my breath huffs into her hair. She curls her fingers around my forearms as she nuzzles closer, and I close my eyes and enjoy the quiet in what might be the last few hours of our little bubble. Since Jeannie has already called to make sure we’re alive, I assume it won’t be long before she comes to check for herself. Not to mention Tess’s brothers will be back tomorrow, and I have the most important interview of my life to deal with.

“Oh my God,” she says suddenly, jolting up so fast she jostles me as she lets out a surprised sound.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Ada probably thinks I’m dead,” she groans.

“I think your phone is over there on the dresser,” I tell her, sitting up.

She swings her legs over the side of the bed and runs for it, snatching it up in a hurry, then padding back across the room to wrestle with her charger, which has been plugged uselessly into the wall outlet by the bed all weekend.

“Do I need to worry about a visit from the FBI?”

She rolls her eyes. “Ada would probably trek this mountain by herself if she actually thought I was missing. I’m sure she’s already badgered my brothers about why I’ve been MIA so long.” She props her fist on her hip as she turns to eye my stretched-out form clad only in a towel, wiggling her eyebrows when I catch her looking. “Now, that’s a shot for the website.”

“I will toss you into the snow,” I warn.

“Wow, rude.”

I take a moment to just look at her as she powers on her phone, taking in her soft curves and her wild, towel-dried hair that falls carelessly against her shoulders. She looks so sweet like this, and her scent, which is still tinged with the last remnants of her heat, is so sultry that it makes me want to grab her by the waist and throw her on the bed to try to squeeze in one last round before it all ends—but I know she must be sore, so I refrain.