Mick was quiet on the drive back to his place. Or, she’d thought they were heading to his place, but he took a turn that led into her neighborhood.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“I’m taking you home.”

“But . . .” She paused, chewing on her lip for a moment. “Mick? Do we ever see each other and not spend the night if you’re not going out of town?”

He kept his eyes on the road. “I guess not.”

“So, this is different because . . . ?”

When he didn’t answer she looked out the window, waiting. He was quiet as they passed a row of houses laced with scaffolding, another row of homes that had been newly rebuilt. There were shops on the next block, one a produce market with stands on the sidewalk, stacked high with melons and cabbage and beans, oranges and peppers in every imaginable color. She was glad to see the city had gained so much of its old vibrancy.

She wondered if Mick ever would.

When they got to her place, he parked and sat staring out the front windshield.

“Are you coming in, at least?” she asked.

“I’d rather you not see this.”

“See what, Mick?”

She laid a hand on his arm but felt him stiffen under her touch.

He shook his head.

She waited.

After a few moments she said quietly, “You know, I’m not getting out of this truck until you give me some sort of answer.”

“I kind of figured you wouldn’t, you being you.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re stubborn as hell, Allie.”

“I thought you liked that about me.”

“Maybe a little less right now.”

That stung.

“Fuck you, Mick,” she said quietly.

He whipped his head around. “What did you say?” His eyes were blazing.

“You heard me.” Anger was hot in her veins suddenly, burning her up inside. “You and your surly attitude. I used to think it was sexy. Damn it, maybe I still do. But I don’t like it one bit when it’s turned on me. When it’s turned on us. I get it. I have some family issues, too, you know, but maybe you’re too caught up in your own shit to notice. So go on. You do whatever you need to do about your issues—indulge in your juvenile desire to get your face bashed in or whatever the hell helps you get it out of your system—but don’t take it out on me.” Her hands fisted at her sides. “Don’t you do it, Mick.”

He looked stunned. Then his tight features relaxed, his mouth going wide until there was nothing short of a grin there.

“Are you laughing at me?” she asked in shock.

“Maybe I’m laughing at me. But Lord, were you mad.”

“Maybe I still am,” she said, not entirely certain herself.

He watched her for several long moments, then he launched himself at her.

It wouldn’t have been possible had his truck been any smaller, but in seconds he was on top of her, having pushed her down on the seat, and he was kissing her hard, one hand fisted in her hair, holding on tight.

She tried to push him off her, but she may as well have been shoving at a brick wall. He kissed her harder, his tongue pushing its way into her mouth, and he tasted of beer and spices and only a little of quickly recovering ego.

*   *   *

MICK PULLED BACK, watching her. He’d felt her surrender, had forced past her stubbornness and her anger to get there. But she was still pissed, he could tell from the way her fingers dug into his shoulders, still pretending to push him away.

“You angry with me, baby?”

“Yes.”

“You’re damn pretty when you’re mad.”

“Didn’t we talk about condescension being a hard limit?” she asked, only partly fake fuming.

“We did not.”

“We should have,” she muttered.

He grabbed her and pulled her closer, heard her small gasp as he lifted her hand and bit into her palm.

“We can have that talk in bed. While I’m fucking you into a better mood.”

“My mood was just fine! Yours is the one that sucked.”

“I never specified whose mood we’d be improving.”

“But . . .” she sputtered. “Whatever.”

“Whatever what?” he demanded.

“Whatever . . . Sir?” She rolled her eyes, but there was a small grin on her face.

“Ah, that’s my girl. Come on.”

He got out and pulled her, sliding her across the seat and out his side of the truck. He took her hand and hurried up the walk, took her keys from her and opened the door, slamming it shut behind them. He led her into the kitchen.

“You. Here,” he ordered, yanking her in hard, until he could feel every soft female curve pressed up against him. His cock went rock-hard.

She was a little breathless already. She licked her lips. He leaned in and bit them—he couldn’t resist.

“Mmm.”

She smelled so damn good—he could smell the sun on her skin, in her hair. He reached behind her and pulled out the clip, and she shook her long tresses free. He buried his face in her hair, inhaled. Dug his fingers in and pulled tight.

He whispered in her ear, “I’m going to fuck you over the kitchen table, princess. Take your panties off.”

He let her go and she took one step back, lifted her dress to reach under it, bent and came back up with a small handful of pink lace. He took them from her and tossed them on the floor before turning her roughly and bending her over the edge of the small, round table, using a hand to press her down onto the wood surface until her cheek laid there.

“Mick . . .”

“Shh.”

He flipped the hem of her dress up, baring her perfectly rounded ass, pulled open the buttoned fly of his cargo pants and pulled his cock out. Christ, he was so hard it hurt. Had to be inside her.

“Spread,” he told her, and she complied.

He reached under her, found her pussy already wet.

“Have to just fuck you, baby.” He guided his cock to her opening, rammed inside her all at once. “Fuck, yeah . . .”

“Oh!”

He pulled back, thrust hard again, needing it to be hard and fast and merciless for reasons he didn’t understand. He took one of her arms and twisted it behind her back, held it there as he plunged into her over and over.

Pleasure was like a hammer, pounding into him. She was moaning, crying out, and he felt her sex tighten around him. He reached around her and found the tight nub of her clit. He tugged on it, pinched, twisted the tender flesh between his fingers as he rammed into her.

“God, Mick!”

She came, her sweet pussy clenching around him, then drenching him with her pleasure. It was too much for him. He came in a torrent of fiery sensation, fucking her harder and harder, pleasure and heat blinding him as he shivered inside her.

“Baby, baby, baby . . .”

He could barely breathe. He’d barely stopped coming and he needed her again already.

He slipped out of her, turning her and pulling her into his arms. Hers went around his neck.

“You okay?” she asked.

“What? I’m so good, baby girl.”

And it was true. Partly. The other part he’d either ignore until it went away, or he’d just keep fucking Allie until it disappeared. It was either that or go fight. He had to admit the fucking was better.

She stood on her toes and kissed his neck.

“Come on,” he said. “I’m going to need you again in about five minutes.”

She stepped back, kicked her way out of her sandals and pulled her dress over her head. Her eyes were a smoldering gold. “Ready when you are.”

She offered her hand to him and he took it, let her take him to her bedroom, where he got out of his clothes and pushed her down on the bed.

“Hands and knees,” he told her.

He wasn’t even certain himself why he was being so curt with her. But she wasn’t fighting it, didn’t seem to mind. But when he came up behind her and started to wrap his T-shirt around her eyes, she pushed it away. “Hard limit, Mick,” she reminded him. “I just can’t.”

“No problem, baby.”

He dropped the shirt and reached under her, sliding his hands over her breasts and playing with her nipples. They went hard immediately.