He tossed his keys to the coffee table.

“No getting attached to me,” she said, hands on hips. “Cuz I’m not going to get attached to you.”

He gave her a smile. “Can you resist?”

“Yes,” she said firmly. It was her specialty. She shrugged out of her sweater and let it fall on top of her backpack.

His eyes heated.

She bent to undo her boots, but he said, “I have fantasies about those boots,” so she left them on and pulled off her top.

His gaze drifted warmly over her, heating her in the places yearning for his hands and his mouth.

“You’re lagging behind,” she said.

He unholstered his gun and set it on the coffee table. Next to that went his utility belt. He kicked off his boots. Then before he got to anything good, he stepped toward her.

“More,” she said.

“Oh, there’s going to be a lot more.” His voice was husky with the promise of it. “But I want you in my bed.” He took her hand and tugged her into him. Then he slid his other hand up her back and into her hair, holding her for his kiss. It was slow and romantic. And not what she wanted. So she broke away and went for the button on his uniform cargo pants. She’d long ago learned that to get what she wanted from a man, all she had to do was get him naked.

Luckily this time what she wanted and what this man wanted were perfectly in sync. She got his button popped, his zipper down, and slid her hand inside, wrapping it around his glorious, hard length.

He made a sound that was pure male hunger before stopping her. “Bedroom,” he said again firmly, and gave her a nudge to the hall.

She nudged back and pushed him up against the wall, just to the side of his fireplace. He’d asked if she wanted something to eat, and she did. “Dessert first,” she said. “Always.”

His mouth curved. She was amusing him. Turning him on, too, the proof was hard against her belly. Her body responded to that, and she kissed him, long and deep as she unbuttoned his shirt. God, his torso. Hard. Ripped. She wanted to lick him, and started in the dip at the hollow of his throat.

His groan reverberated in his chest, and in response, the blood pounded through her body. His hands were on her, everywhere. One glided down her back to her bottom, the other cupped a breast, his thumb teasing back and forth over her nipple. He murmured her name as his body shifted, and she knew he was about to take the control from her. So she dropped to her knees on the fireplace rug and took it first, slipping her hands back inside his open pants, freeing him so that she could run her tongue up his hot, silky erection.

With an inarticulate growl, his head thunked back against the wall and again his hands slid into her hair. She could feel the fine tremor in his legs, and that turned her on. He was the epitome of a strong and dominant male, and she had him weak at the knees at one touch of her tongue, so she gave him another. And another…

“Jesus,” he gasped. “Jesus, Amy. We’ve got to slow down.”

She didn’t, and he lasted only a few minutes more before swearing roughly and creatively, his fingers tightening reflexively in her hair. “Keep that up, and I’m going to come.”

She wanted him to. Making him lose control was really working for her, and when they were done with this, she was going to take him apart in a different way.

“Christ. Amy-”

She kept going, taking him through what sounded like a very happy ending. She was still enjoying the little aftershocks running through his big, powerful body when he dropped to his knees and pulled her into his lap. He unhooked her bra and bent her back over his arm, sucking a nipple into his mouth, hard.

With a gasp of pleasure, she gripped his head. Not to pull him away but to keep him there. God yes, right there. A minute later, she realized he’d somehow peeled her out of her shorts and panties as well. In only her boots, he adjusted her so that she was straddling him right there on the floor. His hand traveled down her torso, between her open thighs, his long fingers playing slip and slide.

Pleasure swamped her, making her cry out. She never cried out. Shocked at the hurry-up noises she was making, she bit his shoulder to shut herself up.

Matt hissed in a breath but kept stroking her with those talented fingers, in and out, in a rhythm that became her center of gravity. He commandeered her mouth as well, kissing her hard and deep, reducing her to a gasping, panting, pleading mass until, unbelievably, he sent her flying. She came back to herself to find him still idly stroking her core, his mouth soft and gentle. “Round one,” he said silkily, “is a tie.” Then he laid her out on the rug, holding her still when she wriggled, trying to get on top.

She was always on top.

But he shook his head, a smile curving his mouth, a very wicked smile. Lowering his head, he kissed his way down her body, stopping to pay special homage to each breast, and then her stomach, playfully tugging her crystal belly button piercing with his teeth before moving lower.

“Matt. Matt, wait-”

He didn’t listen to her any more than she’d listened to him a few minutes ago. With his broad shoulders holding her legs wedged open, he took all her power away with one perfectly placed stroke of his tongue. Reduced to a whimper, she slapped her hands down on the rug on either side of her hips as he sucked and nibbled and drove her straight out of her ever-loving mind.

It was a shockingly short drive, and this time she came back to herself, boggled. Normally she had to concentrate to climax at all, and yet he’d given her a twofer, so effortlessly she hadn’t even known what hit her. She didn’t know whether to thank him or be embarrassed. “Well.” She rose up on her elbows and eyed the room for her clothes, which were scattered. Except for her boots. Those she was still wearing. “I’m going to need a ride.”

He rose up, too, still between her legs. His smile deepened, turning positively wicked. And unbelievably, she felt her body react.

Again.

“Yes,” he said. “I believe I can give you a ride.” Stripping out of his remaining clothes with a few economical motions, he then turned his attention to her boots, pulling them off for her. When they were both bare-ass naked, he scooped her up and kissed her, his tongue sweeping and sucking and stroking in demand.

And damn. Damn, she couldn’t hold back her breathless moan, because good Lord the man knew how to use his mouth, stirring up emotions during an act that should have been only a physical release, and he did it effortlessly. She tried to pull back to think about that, but he had a good hold on her, and next thing she knew, they were on the move to his bedroom.

He set her down on a huge bed, then before she could scramble away, he stretched his body over hers.

And let’s face it, scrambling away would have been tricky without any bones left in her body.

He produced a condom, and in the next instant, thrust inside her, and oh, God, the pleasure, the panic… Because she knew. She knew it even as she cried out and clutched him closer to her that she was in the worst sort of trouble now.

Because this wasn’t just a physical release at all.

Not even close.

“Look at me,” he said.

With effort, her eyes fluttered open, and she focused in on his face, transfixed by the expression of pure ecstasy etched on his features. She had no idea what it was with her, whether it was the eroticism of what they’d already done to each other, or that she could still taste him on her tongue, or maybe it was just the incredible feel of him so hard, so deep within her, but she wanted him with a desperate need she hadn’t even known she could feel. Bringing her legs up, she wrapped them around his waist, whimpering when he slowly withdrew only to push back inside her.

“Good?” he asked.

She didn’t answer. Couldn’t, she was drowning in the sensations. He ran his hands down her arms until their fingers were entwined, then drew them up above her head, securing them there.


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