“I’m going to need to put you down for a sec.”

He unwound her legs from his waist, then her arms from around his neck, and sat her on the edge of the old claw-footed bathtub while he ran hot water in the stall shower.

“Come on. I’ve got you,” he told her as he helped her to her feet, held her close against his side and took her into the shower, the water cascading over their bodies.

“Mick?”

“What is it, baby?”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“Get ready to hear it a lot. ’Cause it’s true. I’ve got you, Allie girl. My girl.”

She laid a soft kiss on his chest, her hands slipping over his back under the hot water. She looked up at him, her gorgeous golden-brown eyes glowing, the pupils wide. Water tipped her black lashes.

“Am I, Mick? Am I your girl?”

“You know how this works. Safe, Sane and Consensual. Do you want to be mine? Do you want to belong to me?”

His heart was like a hammer in his chest. Why did this feel so important? But hell, nothing had ever been as important as Allie. That was what he’d been running from since he was eighteen years old.

“Only if you want me. Really want me, Mick. Do you?”

He bent and kissed her sweet mouth, her cheek, her forehead, pulled her hand to his lips and brushed kisses over her fingertips.

“Allie. My baby girl. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. And everything I ever will. God help me if I’m ever too stupid to see that again.”

She blinked up at him. “I’m a little spaced. Or maybe a lot. Can you tell me that again when I have my head on straight?”

“Until you get sick of hearing it.”

“I never will.”

He put his hands into her hair and kissed her long and hard, ignoring his split lip. Their tongues were wet, tangling, joining them together. Their arms were so tight around each other he could feel every bone in her lovely body.

His.

“Let me take care of you now,” he said, grabbing a big sea sponge, lathering it with soap, then turning her around so he could clean the small wounds left in her buttocks and hips. He ran the sponge over her skin and she sighed, pliant in his arms.

He’d never thought to see her like this, so completely submissive. So spent and loose and relaxed. He loved the fire in her. Loved her in this state even more because of that. He understood it meant more.

“Can you stand on your own, baby?”

“Yes.”

He took the sprayer wand and used it to wet her hair, then squeezed some shampoo into his palm and began to work it in.

“Oh, that’s nice,” she said, her voice a quiet sigh.

He massaged her scalp, working up a good lather before rinsing it out, then doing the same with the conditioner, working it through the ends of her long hair, then rinsing again.

She was waking up a bit more by then. She turned to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and he winced.

Her brows drew together. “Let me look.”

He turned around and she laughed. “Boy, did I scratch the hell out of your neck and shoulders.”

“Good girl,” he murmured, smiling to himself.

“The skin opened in a spot or two.”

“Just wash it off for me.”

She did as he asked with gentle hands, pausing to stand on her toes and kiss the sore skin.

No one had ever treated him this way. Hell, he wouldn’t have allowed it. But this was Allie. And he couldn’t help but show her every side of him. Driven animal. Sensual being. Man who loved her.

Fuck.

He did. He loved her. Always had. Still did. Always would.

But . . . it was too soon to tell her. They needed to spend some time simply being together. See where it took them. Get to know each other all over again, like they’d talked about.

They had all the time in the world now, didn’t they?

The water was growing cooler. He shut the shower off and reached out to grab a thick, white towel from the rack, pulled it into the shower with them and wrapped Allie up in it before he stepped out and found another rolled up in a basket on the floor for himself. He slung it around his waist, helped her step out onto the white bath mat and dried her carefully: her slender arms, her long legs, the sleek curve of her shoulders, the rounder curves of her beautiful breasts. She stood quietly, letting him do it while the steam wrapped around them, keeping them as warm as the soft New Orleans air.

He slipped the towel between her legs to dry her there and she pulled in a small, gasping breath. Their eyes met. She smiled, stood up on her toes to kiss him and reached down to grasp his cock in her hand. Two long strokes was all it took. He grew rock-hard in an instant, tearing the towel from his waist with one hand while with the other he drew her in tight. He grabbed her and sat her on the edge of the tiled counter and spread her thighs. Her legs wound around him.

“Yes, Mick. Come on.” She reached between them, taking his cock in her soft hand again, her fingers feathering over the head.

He groaned, arching his hip into her fisted palm a few times, pleasure simmering low in his belly, making his cock pulse already. He grabbed her hand and pulled it away.

“Hey.”

“Shh.”

He quieted her by covering her lips with his, kissing her hard, his tongue forging into her mouth even as the split in his lip stung. She kissed him back hungrily, eating up his mouth. He was so fucking hard he couldn’t wait.

He grabbed her ass, raising her hips, and plunged into her.

Christ, she was all hot, sleek silk inside, wet and ready for him, taking him all.

She moaned, her head against his mouth. “Fuck me, Mick,” she whispered. “I need you to. I . . . need you.”

They were bucking into each other, and he reached between them to work her clit with his hand. In moments she was coming, her hot sex clenching around him as she called his name. Then he was coming and his voice was a howl. The world went black, his orgasm ripping through him, ripping his heart out and serving it to her on a platter.

Allie.

His.

Together.

He latched on to her neck, bit into her, licked at her skin, then kissed her as his body calmed.

He saw he’d left more teeth marks on her. But she didn’t mind. And he didn’t mind that he’d marked her, made her his in some tangible way.

Some distant part of him realized he was lost. Lost to her.

Didn’t matter.

All that mattered was that Allie—his Allie girl—belonged to him. Finally.

*   *   *

SHE WAS AWAKE but didn’t want to open her eyes in case she’d imagined that Mick was there with her, that everything would be okay. But in moments she realized the weight on her stomach was his strong arm flung across her body. Still without opening her eyes, she reached down and linked her fingers with his, smiling.

“You happy, baby?”

She opened her eyes to find Mick looking at her, his gray eyes clear as crystals in the soft morning light. “You’re up.”

“Well, I’m awake. Not up yet, but I’m sure we can take care of that in about . . . three seconds.”

He kissed her shoulder, then slid his hand over her stomach and between her thighs. “Ah, already wet for me, baby girl. And now I’m up.”

She giggled. She couldn’t help it. Heat shimmered through her when he teased her hardening clitoris. “And what are you going to do about that?”

“Anything I want. Isn’t that right?” He stroked her damp slit, pressed a fingertip inside her, making her groan.

“Yes, Sir.”

He pulled his hand away.

“So . . . the first thing I want . . . need to do is to ask if you’re on some kind of birth control, since I was too carried away to remember to use a condom. And just so you know, that has never happened to me before.”

“I always practice safe sex unless I’m with a long-term partner. But yes, I’m on the pill. And we’ve seen each other’s paperwork. God, you really know how to kill the mood, Mick.”