“Nothing,” he said between panted breaths. “It’s just that you’re going to be home tomorrow, and I’d rather wait for the real thing.” I groaned, and Brian laughed. “You don’t have to wait just because I do.”

Patience has never been my virtue, but his words sounded almost like a challenge, and I don’t like to back down from challenges. “I’ll wait,” I said between gritted teeth.

“It won’t be long,” he assured me. “I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see it. “Don’t. I’m going to need some time to decompress after all this. I won’t be good company.” Quick, hot phone sex I could handle, but I doubted I could have in-person sex without having to tell him all about my lovely trip to Topeka. And I needed a little distance before I could manage that.

“I don’t need you to be good company,” he assured me.

A thread of irritation wove through me. Brian wasn’t much for giving me my space, and right now I badly needed it.

“I’ll call you when I get in,” I said firmly.

He hesitated like he was going to argue, but then he didn’t. “I never pegged you for such a tease,” he grumbled.

My shoulders sagged a bit with relief. Usually he didn’t make things this easy for me. Maybe he was finally getting to understand me just a little bit. But if I left him unfulfilled, he might change his mind tomorrow night and show up at the airport.

My hand started moving again, and I didn’t try to stifle the low moan that rose from my throat. Brian might fully intend to abstain until he had me in person, but I was betting his self-control had limits.

“Changed your mind about waiting?” he asked. His voice had dropped to a low growl that raised goose bumps on my skin.

“Mm-hmm.” Listening carefully, I could hear the quickening of his breaths. I closed my eyes and once again imagined the sight of his hand stroking the smooth, silky skin I so loved to touch. The sensation was achingly real, heating my core.

“You’re killing me.”

My laugh was low and throaty. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Not a damn thing,” he replied, but it sure sounded like his teeth were gritted.

“I’m so wet,” I murmured in my best fuck-me voice. “Don’t you wish you could touch me to see for yourself?”

“You’re an evil, evil woman.”

“Yeah, but it’s fun to be bad.” The heat gathered in my center, and I had to slow myself down. I had to push him past the point of no return before I let myself tumble over the cliff. “Are you being bad, Brian?”

“I’m being a perfect angel,” he gasped, but that wasn’t what it sounded like.

“I don’t think that’s your nose that’s growing, Pinocchio.”

His laugh sounded almost desperate. I closed my eyes and visualized the sweat that glowed on his skin, the flush that colored his face, the salty-sweet drop of pre-cum that beaded on his tip. I bit my lip, hard, on the edge of control.

“Can you feel me squeezing you tight with every stroke?” I asked, amazed I could form coherent words.

“Don’t,” he protested, his breath coming ever faster. His rational mind might have wanted me to stop, but his body sure as hell didn’t.

“Can you?” I asked again. Another muffled protest told me all I needed to know. My self-control broke, and I went screaming over the edge.

Brian let out an anguished groan as he stopped fighting against the climax he knew damn well he wanted.

For a few minutes afterward, we were both silent except for our gasps for breath.

“I love you,” Brian said when he had the air for it.

I sighed in contentment. “I love you, too.”

“Call me the minute you get home.”

“I will,” I promised, crossing my fingers like a ten-year-old. I’d call him when I was good and ready, and he knew that. But I promised myself that I wouldn’t make him — or myself, for that matter — wait long. As sweet as our mutual release had been, it couldn’t compare to the feeling of having the man I loved inside me when I came.

When I hung up the phone, I had every intention of getting the rest of my clothes off and properly preparing for bed. But my limbs felt so languid, my body so limp, that I decided to close my eyes for just a few minutes first.

I awoke the next morning groggy as hell, yawning every five seconds. It was weird, because according to the clock I’d slept a good ten hours. I should be fresh as a daisy. I chewed my lip as I made my way to the bathroom for my morning shower.

Had I been sleepwalking again? It had happened on and off for the last couple of months, and this was how I usually felt in the morning. Of course, those other times I’d known I’d been sleepwalking because I’d awakened in the middle of it. Let me tell you, it’s disconcerting to wake up wandering around your living room at oh-dark-thirty.

As far as I knew, I hadn’t been up and about last night, but I still felt like shit. Maybe it was just all the stress and trauma of the last couple of days. Yeah, that was it.

But when I was packing my bags for my flight back to Philadelphia, I found a note, scribbled in my own handwriting, sitting on the desk by the phone.

The demon didn’t take you because you’re already possessed.

Damn. I guess I’d been up and about last night after all. I ripped the note off the pad of hotel stationery, crumpled it into a wad, and tossed it into the trash can. My skin felt cold and clammy.

It was my subconscious at work, I knew that. As an exorcist, I just couldn’t leave the puzzle of why the demon didn’t take me alone. So clearly my subconscious had leapt to the most alarming conclusion it could manage, then left this little love note for me while I was sleepwalking.

Nothing to worry about. I mean, if I was actually possessed, then the demon would be in full control of my body. You can’t be possessed and not know it. Besides, Val had looked at my aura and declared me clean.

But demonic possession is my personal worst nightmare — hence, my career choice. And rational thought is no match for irrational fear, so that stupid note creeped me out no matter how I reasoned with myself.

If the city of Topeka ever needs an exorcist again, you can bet I won’t be volunteering for the job.

Guess who met me at the airport despite my very clear instructions not to? I should have known he wouldn’t give up so easily. Brian’s about as good at following orders as I am. When I saw him standing there waiting for me at baggage claim, I couldn’t decide if I was more pissed off he’d come or happy to see him.

“He’s a keeper,” Val said out of the corner of her mouth, and I gave her a dirty look. She winked at me, then hurried away, leaving us two “lovebirds” alone.

Val thinks I should have married Brian by now, and she rarely misses a chance to tell me so. He hasn’t asked me to marry him yet, but he has hinted-broadly-that we should move in together. Sometimes I think he and Val are tag-teaming the matchmaking game. Lucky for me, I see through their evil plan.

I hugged him when he came to me, but I didn’t exactly melt into his arms.

“I thought I told you I didn’t want you to meet me,” I muttered by his ear, then pulled away.

Brian flashed me one of his all-American-boy smiles — the kind of smile that almost always defused me. Sometimes it was just easier to bask in the warmth of that smile than to fight with him.

I sighed, still a little peeved, but that one damn smile had taken the edge off. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

He snorted. “If that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black.” He bent to pick up my suitcase, and I just shook my head in defeat.

“If I’m such a pain in the ass, why are you here?” I asked as I followed him out to the parking lot. I stayed a couple steps behind him, not because I couldn’t keep up but because I was annoyed.