“I hope you like,” she said in a sexy whisper.

Whatever miniscule amount of cool, refined and well-behaved he might have retained evaporated in a puff of steam. With a growl he yanked her against him. Kissed her with all the pent-up want and need and urgency that had been clawing at him since the last time he’d touched her.

“God, I missed you.” The unstoppable words came out as a groan against her neck. One hand skimmed down her smooth back to curve around her lush bare bottom while he filled his other hand with her breast.

“Show me,” she demanded, gyrating against him while she jerked his polo shirt upward. “Show me how much.”

In the space of mere seconds he had her pressed against the door, his shirt was on the floor and his erection freed and sheathed with the condom he-thank God-had had in his pocket. Her thong was disposed of with one hard yank. With raw, desperate hunger scraping through him, he curved his hands around her ass and lifted her. And buried himself in her silky wet heat with a single hard thrust.

Her gasp turned into a throaty moan and she wrapped her legs around his hips. He would have told her to hold on tight, but words were beyond him. He pulled nearly all the way out of her tight warmth, then sank deep again. And again. Over and over, each thrust harder, deeper, faster. Sweat broke out on his brow, and he gritted his teeth against the intense pleasure, trying to hold off his climax as long as possible. The instant she cried out and pulsed around him, he let himself go.

When the shudders racking him finally faded, and with her still wrapped around him, he slowly sank to his knees, then settled his butt on his heels. Her head flopped limply against his damp shoulder, and he remained buried deep inside her. Still breathing heavily, he tunneled his fingers through her wildly mussed hair and drew her head back. She looked stunned and dazed. Sated and sexy as hell. And more beautiful than any woman he’d ever seen. The area around his heart seemed to go hollow, then filled so quickly he felt as if he were drowning. Which pretty much described the way he’d felt since the minute he’d seen her three months ago.

“Toni,” he murmured against her lips. And then he gave her the slow, deep, intimate kiss he’d meant to give her when she arrived. Before she’d dropped her coat and fried him where he stood.

When he lifted his head, her eyelids fluttered open. She trailed her fingertips over his jaw, then her lips slowly curved upward. “Whoa, baby. My favorite dinner-Hard and Fast Against the Door. What’s for dessert?”

“That wasn’t dinner, that was just the appetizer.”

“Even better. What’s for dinner?”

“Damned if I can remember. My entire thought process jumped the track when you dropped your coat.”

“Want some cheese with that whine?” she said with a teasing grin.

He leaned forward and nuzzled her soft, fragrant neck. “Wine…I have wine.”

“That’s a good start.”

“Actually this…” he drew her body tighter against his “…was a very good start.”

“I agree.” She raised one brow. “Seems you did miss me.”

He had. Much more than he was willing to admit for fear of scaring her off. “Maybe a little. Obviously I was happy to see you.”

“Got that.”

“Wearing so little.”

Her lips twitched. “Got that, too.”

His gaze flicked down to her breasts which were pressed against his chest. “Shame you don’t have any clothes with you.”

“I have some in my car.”

He brushed his lips over hers. “Sweetheart, believe me, you won’t need them.”

Twenty minutes later, after a quick shower, Brad tossed on a pair of boxer briefs, loaned Toni a T-shirt, then led her into the kitchen. He noted her looking around while he poured their wine and he wondered if this might be a good time to broach the subject that had been on his mind for days-Christmas. And them spending the holiday-or at least part of it-together. He’d delayed mentioning it for fear she’d say no, but since Christmas Eve was tomorrow, he didn’t have a huge window of time left to work with.

“I like your house,” she said, leaning against the counter, her gaze tracking over the white kitchen cabinets, then into the den with its coffee-colored sectional sofa, oak entertainment center and flat screen TV. “Do you own it or rent it?”

“Own. My grandfather passed away a few years ago and left me a little money. I figured a house, even a small house, was a good investment.”

Handing her a glass, his gaze wandered down her form. The soft white cotton clung to her every curve and barely covered the essentials. “I like the way you look in my T-shirt.”

She smiled and accepted the glass. “I think you’re just easy to please.”

“Actually, I’m very particular. Especially about who wears my T-shirts.”

She raised her glass. “Happy holidays.”

“Happy holidays,” he repeated, touching his rim to hers. After taking a sip, he said in a casual tone, “Speaking of the holidays, what are your plans?”

“I’ll be heading to Santa Barbara tomorrow after work for Christmas Eve dinner-aka The Huge Italian Seafood Festival-at my mother’s. Spending the night there, then Christmas Day at my sister’s house. Much eating, opening of gifts and the inevitable arguments will ensue. How about you?”

“I’m on duty from seven tomorrow morning til seven Christmas morning. After that I’ll catch some sleep then head over to my folks’ house. My brother and his wife will be there, too.” He moved to stand in front of her. Reached out and tucked a silky curl behind her ear. “I was thinking maybe you’d like to join us. Either for dinner, or dessert, or just a drink.”

She went perfectly still. Even in the muted light he could see she paled a bit. “You mean like…meet the family?”

Uh-oh. Didn’t sound like she liked the idea. Part of his brain warned him to back off, but the other part told him to push on. Hell, she’d have to meet them sooner or later. Besides, he’d already issued the invite-he couldn’t take it back now. “They don’t bite,” he said lightly. “At least not much.”

The loudest silence he’d ever heard seemed to echo through the room. Finally she set down her wineglass, then stepped away from him. “Look, Brad, I don’t think-”

A faint musical ring tone interrupted her words. She frowned and cocked her head. “That’s my cell phone. And it’s Jayne’s ring tone. I left her at the store to finish a centerpiece. I’m sorry-I don’t think she’d call unless something was wrong.” She hurried toward the foyer where her coat hung on the brass coatrack.

“No problem,” he called after her, grasping on to any excuse to not have her finish the very unpromising sounding thing she’d been about to say. He felt, literally, saved by the bell. “I need to see to the steaks anyway. Take your time.”

TONI ESCAPED to the foyer, feeling literally, saved by the bell. Brad’s suggestion that she meet his family, share part of the Christmas holiday with him, with them, had stunned her. Meeting the family was…serious. Which was why most guys avoided it like the plague. God knows she had no intention of bringing home any man she didn’t intend to marry. Unless, of course, she wanted to scare the guy off-one meeting with her evil-eye-giving family would surely send him screaming into the night.

No one brought their one-night stand to meet their parents. And no one invited their casual sex partner to a holiday meal. It simply wasn’t done. Clearly Brad believed that their one-okay three-night stand was something more than sex.

It is something more than sex, you doofus, her inner voice testily informed her. Just because you don’t want it to be and keep denying it, doesn’t make it any less true.

Drat. Her and her pain-in-the-ass inner voice were going to have a serious talk right after she finished with her phone call. She fished her cell from her coat pocket and flipped it open.