Free Practice Makes Perfect by Sarah Title Page A

around and lifted her thighs and before she could tell him to hurry, what the hell was he waiting for, he was inside her and she screamed and arched into him and felt him bury his head in her breasts as he worked himself in and out and she held on and wrapped her legs tighter and higher and scratched at his back and his arms and finally she found her voice and it was “Yes, yes, yes” and then she saw stars—actual stars!—and felt Henry groan and shake and then there was nothing to do but catch her breath and convince herself that she was still alive, that Henry—secret, powerful, sex machine Henry—hadn’t just killed them both.
    * * *
    Helen still hadn’t opened her eyes.
    They were lying in a heap on her bed. It was all he could do to stagger there, pulling her with him. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to stand much longer, even after she put her feet on the ground. Hell, he wasn’t entirely sure he would ever stand again.
    He was surprisingly OK with that.
    He was pretty sure Helen wasn’t asleep. She kept sighing and touching the ends of her hair, and every so often she would raise her hand a little, then drop it down again.
    â€œHey,” he said, hoping he wasn’t waking her up. But also wanting to talk to her. “Helen.”
    â€œMmm?” she said.
    â€œAre you awake?” He leaned on his elbow to look at her. Her skin was flushed and her lips were swollen and he felt a surge of pride that he had put that sleep-smile on her face.
    â€œMm-hmm,” she said. She didn’t open her eyes.
    â€œAre you OK?”
    â€œMm-mmm,” she said.
    Was that a yes or a no? “Was I too rough?”
    Her eyes shot open. “What? No! God, Henry. No.” She put a hand on his shoulder and closed her eyes again. “Hell no.”
    He flopped back on the pillow, relieved. Her hand flopped with him, and he held it to his chest. “Good.”
    â€œDid I scratch you?” she asked, and now it was her turn to lean up on an elbow.
    He twisted his shoulder so she could look.
    â€œSorry,” she said, wincing.
    â€œI’m not.” It had felt good. It had felt amazing. God, when she squeezed her legs around him and dug her nails in . . . yeah, it was definitely good.
    â€œI didn’t think you had it in you,” she said, flopping down on the pillow so her head was next to his.
    Me neither, he thought. Then: “Wait, what?”
    â€œYou just surprised me.”
    â€œHow?”
    â€œI didn’t think you would be so . . . in charge.”
    He was pretty sure that was a compliment. A compliment to his lovemaking, if not a compliment to his personality. Whatever, there was a compliment in there somewhere.
    He was pretty sure.
    â€œSeriously, Henry. That was amazing.”
    Yup, definitely a compliment.
    He smiled and closed his eyes. “Do you think you got enough?”
    â€œEnough what?”
    â€œResearch.”
    He felt her sit up again. “Why? Can you do it again?”
    He laughed. “In a minute.” He felt her fingers dance across his chest. Maybe less than a minute.
    â€œOK,” she said, and snuggled in next to him. “Next time, I’m in charge.”

Chapter 10
    â€œC ome in,” Helen called without looking up from her laptop. She shouldn’t be writing at work. She especially shouldn’t be writing love scenes at work. But it was either that or work on the desk schedule again, and since she’d slept through this morning’s writing time (well, she didn’t sleep through it. Thank you, Henry), her font of inspiration was full to bustin’. First against the wall, then with her on top, then from behind, then her on top again because she liked it and Henry did too. Tonight they would have to find other positions. And oral.
    Good god, she was a monster.
    A sex monster.
    A sex-with-Henry monster.
    Well, there were worse things in the world. And