“Are you hungry?” he asked. “I could fix you something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” she said. “Not for food, anyway.”

He came closer until he was standing right by the bed, his cock rigid and high. He lifted the quilt, tossed it away, and stared down at her naked body. “Ah, God,” he said softly.

She caressed his cock, the pulsing, swollen red heat of it. He grasped her hand, bent to kiss her knuckles, then turned it over to kiss her wrist, her palm, each finger. He pressed the back of her hand against his cheek with reverent tenderness.

She reached out for him, drawing him down. He plucked another condom from the string, readied himself in a few deft moves, and mounted her, thrusting inside in a seamless slide that made tears start in her eyes. His arms circled her, and they clung, rocking for what could have been hours. She lost all sense of time. The sunlit room was a magical space, dust motes doing a lazy dance of joy above them. The breeze rustled the trees, making wind chimes tinkle and clank. His face filled her whole world. His weight, deliciously sensual between her legs, pressing her down into the bed, in a slow, maddening, pumping pulse and swirl. She could look into his astonishing eyes forever.

They moved together faster, kissing with an ardent hunger that made her heart swell. Every place his body touched her was like a kiss, specific, hot, deliberate, and she lifted herself against him, reaching for perfection. Without warning, it burst upon her. He cried out at the same moment, and they were flung together into that long fall, fused.

They came back to reality slowly. He untangled himself, stroking her back. “Was, uh, everything all right?” he asked hesitantly.

She laughed. “It was great, and you know it.”

He rolled onto his back with an ironic grunt. “I have my moments of doubt,” he said. “I was just afraid maybe we’re overdoing it.”

“You don’t say.” She laid her head on his solid chest, practically purring as his arms closed possessively around her. “You’re amazing,” she said lazily. “I’ve never been able to…well, you’re amazing.”

He lifted his head, eyes curious. “Never been able to what?”

She tried to gloss over her thoughtless gaffe with a laugh. “I just don’t usually have this wonderful a time in bed, that’s all. I tend to shut down if things get too intense. But with you, it doesn’t happen.”

He ran his fingers through her hair. “Why does it happen?”

“Who cares, since it doesn’t happen with you?” she said brightly. “I’d much rather not dwell on my stupid, tedious—”

“Why does that happen to you, Nancy?” he demanded, relentless.

She sighed. It would seem that Liam would not be guided around this particular crack in the pavement. “Well, I’ve got a theory.”

“Let’s hear it.”

She gathered her composure, hoping without much hope that talking about her hang-ups would not invoke them back into being. “I told you about being in foster care, remember? It was the last home I was in before Lucia. I was thirteen. A nice family in Larchmont. I felt lucky. It was better than a lot of places I’d been. Until their son came back from his freshman year at college. Big guy. Body odor problem.”

Liam’s face contracted. “Oh, Christ.”

“Oh, don’t get scared. It’s not that bad,” she assured him. “He never actually…well, luckily, there were almost always lots of people around, and I shared a room with other girls. But he would take every chance he got to pin me against walls and in dark corners and rub his erection against me. That was usually all he had time for. Thank God.”

Liam’s hands were clenched. “What a piece of shit.”

“He was working up to it, though,” she went on. “It was only a matter of time. And he was his mother’s firstborn darling. She was never going to believe me over him. Which was sad. I really liked her.”

She stared up at the ceiling, twiddling with a piece of the quilt, lost in unpleasant memories. Liam nuzzled her with his lips. “And? So?”

“I told my social worker,” she concluded, with a sigh. “She confronted the mother. The mother took his part. Called me a nasty lying slut. I got a new placement. With Lucia.” She rubbed his hair, comfortingly. “So you see? My luck turned. But I carry some of that old stuff around with me, I guess. I never go for guys who are significantly bigger than me, for instance. I hate being pushed around, or squished. Makes me freeze right up.” She hoisted herself up onto her elbow to stare down at his muscular body, and petted his massive chest. “You’re a big exception,” she added, in a wondering voice. “Very big.”

His penis was long and hard and red, standing up against his belly. He shot her an uncomfortable look. “Sorry. I know it’s inappropriate, after what you just told me. Being close to you just does it to me. I can’t help it. Or hide it, either. Since I’m bare naked.”

“It’s okay,” she murmured. “I know you’re one of the good guys.”

He gathered her into his arms. She melted into the hug. Her arms trembled with the strain of holding him so tightly, but she wanted it to last forever. When they finally relaxed, he brushed the hair off her face and cupped her cheek. “I want to find that guy and kill him,” he said.

She was taken aback. “Ah, I don’t recommend that, Liam,” she said, a little nervously. “I have enough problems as it is.”

He traced her eyebrow with his finger. “It feels strange to say it,” he said. “I am not a violent person. I’ve never gone looking for a fight in my life. But I will kill anyone who touches you.”

Nancy opened and closed her mouth a few times. “Um…I’m not quite sure what to do with that.”

His shoulder jerked in a careless shrug. “You don’t have to do anything with it,” he said. “It just is.”

He pulled away and got up, groping for his jeans. Their idyll was over. He was serious again, all business. She admired his ass as he pulled up his jeans. Then he opened his closet, rummaged up high under a pile of thick wool blankets, and pulled down a heavy-looking black fiberglass case. He brought it over and laid it down on the bed.

“What’s that?” she asked.

He unsnapped the case. “My stepfather’s old service revolver.”

She flinched. “What are you going to do with that thing?”

He lifted a sardonic eyebrow. “Keep it close.”

“You really think that’s necessary? Do you know how to use it?”

He pulled out a box of bullets, flipped open the cylinder, and loaded the gun. “Yes, and yes. I could have used this in your stairwell last night. And of course I know how to use it. Jesus, what a question.” He tucked it into the back of his jeans and shrugged on his shirt.

She shivered at the thought of the deadly thing, cold against the warm skin of his back. “Do you have a license to carry concealed?”

He looked directly into her eyes. “I’ll arrange to get one. I’ve never needed one before, so I never bothered.”

“But until you get one, maybe you’d just better—”

“Think it through, Nancy,” he said. “If the cops catch me carrying concealed, they’ll give me a hard time. If the bad guys catch me without it, they’ll kill me, and take you. What scenario scares you more?”

Her stomach cramped, into a cold, hard knot, and she doubled up tight around it, hugging her knees to her chest and hiding her face.

After a moment, Liam sat down on the bed beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. “It’s just a precaution,” he said gently. “I’m sorry it upsets you. But I’ll feel better if I’m packing.”

She leaned into the hug. She could never get enough of them. She’d been starving for this embrace all her life and never even knew it.

And he seemed just as ravenous. They clung, nuzzling. Offering comfort with their bodies, their warmth, the strength of their limbs entwined. The patch of sun on the floor had moved across the room to the wall by the time he lifted his head and smiled at her.