Jamie gasped, pleasure piercing her like an arrow as he moved within her, his thrusts desperate and intense. Everything she could have hoped to want.

There was something wonderful about him being clothed while she was totally naked. The same kind of wonderful that he needed her right now, in the office, and without waiting to get home.

And it underlined the fact that this was for him. That she was there for him.

And it made something shift inside Jamie. Made her feel like another half to a whole.

Because so many times over the course of the past week and a half, he had been instructing her. Carrying her. Bolstering her.

He had given her a whole list of firsts, and he had taken cracks and broken spaces inside her and filled them.

Called her his pretty girl.

Made her toast and hot chocolate when she cried.

And that she could give to him now... It was an essential part of this thing between them, and she hadn’t even realized it. His movements became even more fierce, more fractured. The look in his eyes wild. And she knew. Knew just what he needed from her.

Pleasure uncurled in her stomach, and she stretched up, pressing her lips to his ear. “Come for me,” she whispered.

His body shuddered, and he slammed against her, pouring himself inside her.

His release set off a reaction inside her, created her own sense of intense, driving need that broke her open and satisfied her, left her shivering and spent against him.

“Let’s go home,” he said, rough.

He pulled away from her, and sighed heavily, looking at the papers on the floor. He threw the condom in the wastebasket and covered it with the papers.

She nodded, collecting her clothes. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” she asked.

“It’s nothing.”

“So nothing that you jumped me in your office?”

He sighed heavily. “We’ll talk at home.”

Home.

He kept saying that.

And earlier, she’d thought of his house that way.

She didn’t know why that felt so easy. Didn’t know why it didn’t seem scary or strange.

They were silent in the truck on the way back, and when they got inside, he went straight to the kitchen. Began slamming cabinets open and shut and Jamie shooed him away. “Go sit down,” she said.

He looked angry, but complied, sitting in a chair at the breakfast nook in the corner.

Jamie grabbed a saucepan and poured some milk in it, putting it on the burner while she got some bread and stuck it in the toaster.

“That isn’t exactly dinner,” he pointed out.

“No,” she said. “But I thought this was our upset food?”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, even though he seemed determined not to let it show. “Thank you.”

She bustled about the kitchen easily, marveling at how she knew where things were. She spread butter across the toast after it popped up, and put one on each plate, setting a mug of hot chocolate in front of Gabe, and another in front of herself.