ASH COULDN’T DECIDE where to focus. Every touch from Mischa made her squirm in a new and delicious way. If he were to slide his hand lower, he’d see how wet she was. And she’d probably come.

She couldn’t hide her surprise when Mischa stopped his attentions.

“Stand up,” he said.

A spark of anticipation and curiosity pulsed over her skin, and she did as told. She forced herself not to fidget, or to tuck behind folded arms.

“I want to watch you take your clothes off. Slowly.” A current ran through Mischa’s voice.

She tugged up her shirt and pulled it over her head, trying and failing to ignore self-consciousness. “I don’t know how to do this all sexy-like.”

“That you’re doing it is the sexy part.”

Heat spread through her, searing away doubt. She undid her jeans and slid them down her legs. He followed her movements with his gaze, and she grew bolder.

Her bra was next. She unhooked the clasps, and took her time sliding the straps down her arms. She held the cups in place to tease, rather than out of shyness. The cool air on her skin was an extra spice to the thrill of his attention.

“Panties next.” The accent was back in his words.

She stripped off the clothing, leaving her exposed.

He crooked his finger and gestured. “Come here.”

That made her as wet as any touch. She closed the few feet between them.

The way he kissed along her stomach clenched in her heart and her belly. He traced along the crisscross of scars on the inside of her thighs. Instinct said she should recoil, but she didn’t feel the need.

“Ангел мой. My angel.”

It does mean that. She loved the sound of the words, regardless of what language they were in, rolling off his tongue.

He yanked off his shirt and pulled her into his lap. The way he knotted his fingers in her hair, tugging her head back, made her sigh with anticipation. He held her captive, owning her mouth.

Skin pressed against skin, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted to be part of him. Sink into him.

He stood, nudging her body back with his, but didn’t let her go. She wasn’t sure how he shed his pants without breaking the next kiss, but he managed.

“I want to watch you ride me,” he whispered, brushing the edge of her ear with his lips. Hands on her hips, he guided her back as he moved. His hard length dug into her stomach, tempting.

When he lay down, she straddled his legs. Her hesitation was gone. Something about being able to say and hear those words I love you, and know he meant it as much as she did... It banished her insecurities far enough away, they didn’t matter.

She lowered herself onto his shaft, moaning when he spread her open. The sensation was always better than her memories insisted, and that was saying a lot.

The pace wasn’t as frantic as the other night, but the emotion behind it was stronger. Enough to squeeze her heart. Each time he plunged inside her, he hit a spot that tingled from her fingers through her chest and down to her toes.

He moved his thumb to her clit, and grazed the swollen nub. When she let out a small cry, he chuckled. “You like that?”

She nodded. “More please.”

“Always.”

A simple word, and it carried so much meaning. As he teased and stroked and pounded, climax built inside. He’d ease off right as she neared the edge, those first spasms starting between her legs, then press in again just as she thought she might catch her breath.

He tried to pull away again, and she covered his hand with hers, pressing hard and coming harder. Orgasm swept over her, and she screwed her eyes shut until all she saw were a rainbow of stars on a black sky.

She heard his telltale grunts, felt the shift in his thrusts, and knew he was close too. He pounded hard, and she swore she felt him spill inside, even though she knew that wasn’t possible.

She kept grinding until her legs refused to work. He slowed to a stop with her. Their panting was the only sound in the room.

He fell back onto the bed, taking her with him. She nestled against his chest, listening to his heart beat. It was a unique kind of soothing.

It wasn’t just love that flowed between them. He made her feel safe and wanted and equal and worthy and everything she craved. And she had no doubt, she offered him a similar balance. It wasn’t that she’d been less-than-whole before, but now, she could see it. She could live it. With him.

Her eyes started to drift shut, and she forced herself awake again. “We should probably get up.”

“Why?”

“It’s the middle of the day.” Out loud it didn’t sound like such a great reason. Not if it meant leaving this comfort behind.

Mischa trailed his fingers through her hair. “That it is.”

“And I wouldn’t mind staying like this all night.” She wasn’t doing a great job of making her case.

“All right. We’ll get up, if we can go get breakfast.”

She pushed up on one elbow so she could see him. A lazy grin played on his face. “It’s the middle of the day,” she repeated.

He raised his brows. “And you’ve never had pancakes for supper?”

She didn’t have a counter to that. “Breakfast it is. I should get cleaned up.”

“I’ll help.” He tilted up his head enough to kiss her on the nose.

“You’ll help me shower?” That sounded like the opposite of getting clean.

“Something like that.”

Their shower took twice as long as it should have, thanks to Mischa’s help. Not that Ash was complaining. Though she was moaning his name when he lifted her and pinned her against the wall, to slide inside her again.

They managed to untangle themselves long enough to finish getting clean and dressed.

“Do you want to...” he trailed off with a shake of his head.

“What?”

“Nothing. Grab Kelly. Let’s go.”

Ash studied him, but his expression didn’t get anything away. “What were you going to say?”

“It was good, I promise, but not yet.” He kissed her on the forehead. “You trust me?”

“Yes.” She didn’t hesitate to say it.

“I’ll tell you soon. Cross my heart.”

That would have to do. Insecurity tried to rear its head, and she had no trouble beating it back. Whatever he had to say, if he insisted it was good, she believed him.

Ash knocked on her sister’s door. “We’re going for breakfast,” she called. She felt lighter. Enough that she even heard it in her voice.

The door flung open. “It’s the middle of the day,” Kelly said.

“That was my point. But it’s not my idea.”

Kelly shrugged. “It’s kind of a good one. Okay.”

The ride to the Pancake House was lighthearted. Kelly sat in the back seat chatting, sharing stories about school. It felt right to have her back.

They got to the mostly-empty restaurant, and someone called from the kitchen that they could pick anywhere they wanted.

“Grab a seat. I need to borrow Kelly for two seconds,” Mischa said.

Ash studied him. “You’re making me nervous.”

He kissed her fingertips. “Maybe ten seconds. We’ll be right there.”

She snagged the closest booth she could, and sat facing them, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying. At least, until Kelly squealed and clapped.

Ash’s curiosity grew, and possibility nudged her thoughts, but she refused to listen. She wouldn’t get her hopes up, that whatever he had to wait to tell her, he might want to check with her sister first.

“Come on.” Kelly’s voice was audible now. She grabbed Mischa’s arm and yanked him toward the booth.

He slid in next to Ash, and took her hand. “I wasn’t going to do it right now,” he said.

“You were, or you wouldn’t have asked.” Kelly fidgeted in her seat. “You have to.”

Ash’s anticipation grew. “What are you not doing?”

Kelly looked like she was going to burst. “Do it.”

“I wanted something romantic,” Mischa said.

“Romance is in the question, not the setting.” Sometimes Kelly was too smart for her age.

Ash didn’t want to get her hopes up, but now she couldn’t help it. “Now you have to let me in on the secret. It’s not fair otherwise.”

He raised her hand to his lips, and kissed the back of her knuckles. “I’m hoping you’d like to make our engagement real.”

“Are you...?” Even though her head saw it coming, her heart still fluttered and skipped over the implied question.

He searched her gaze, brown eyes seemed to dig into her soul. “Marry me? I know this is kind of spur of the moment, and if you want something fancier, whatever you ask for is yours.”

“No. I mean, to wanting fancier. Yes to you. This is perfect. You’re perfect.” She clamped her jaw shut before she could start babbling. “Yes.”

He kissed her, stealing her breath. It was as intense and all-consuming as any moment they’d shared behind closed doors.

A faint humming reached Ash’s ears, and she realized it was Kelly.

“Ashy and Mischa sitting in a tree,” her sister chanted.

Ash laughed, breaking the kiss. She turned to Kelly. “I swear to God, if you ever call him Daddy again—”

“Gross.” Kelly stuck out her tongue. “I don’t know why you think of things like that.”

Mischa rested a hand on Ash’s leg, giving her thigh a light squeeze. “Best. Day. Ever,” he said.

“Better than February 17, 2002?” Kelly asked.

Ash raised her brows. “What happened then?”

Mischa shook his head. “Nope. This is better.”

“He won his third X Games competition.” Apparently, Kelly was the walking-talking version of Mischa’s Wikipedia page.

There was probably something odd about that. But this entire arrangement was screwy and weird and wonderful in ways Ash never would have imagined.

Mischa kissed the tip of Ash’s nose. “This is still better.”

This was so perfect. Every odd bit of it was right. There were still questions they’d have to answer. A long-term solution to dealing with her father. Mischa figuring out what he’d do next...

But whatever happened, they were in it together. She felt good about that. No, not good. Incredible. And there was no other way she wanted things to be.