It was, of course, a tiny stitch. And as she rose to her feet, Nick didn’t take his eyes off it. Reaching for her hips, he tugged her closer until he caught the elastic seam of her panties with his teeth. Nudging them down, he tasted her with two quick, heart-stopping flicks of his tongue. Her clit swelled against his lips. “Please,” she whispered, not knowing what she needed more-for him to lick her into an orgasm, or to tear her panties off and plunge down onto him.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he murmured, returning his mouth to her most sensitive spot. Taking her hips in his hands, he pushed the panties down and nuzzled in deep in her curls.

Feeling a climax rocket through her, Izzie threw her head back and groaned. She was still groaning when Nick tugged her down over him. He glanced at his jeans. “My pocket…”

“We’re safe,” she assured him since she was on the pill. “As long as you’re comfortable with that.”

“Oh, I am so comfortable with that,” he muttered hoarsely. “I cannot wait to feel you wrapped around me, skin to skin.”

Straddling him, her toes on the floor, Izzie rubbed against him, loving the tangle of his chest hair on her rock-hard nipples. Nick dipped his head down to suck one of them, hard and demanding. “Ride me,” he ordered, his mouth still at her breast.

She eased onto him, taking the hot tip into her wet channel a little at a time. He was right-skin to skin was incredible. She could feel every beat of his pulse through his velvety smooth erection.

“Can’t…take much…” he said through choppy breaths.

As if he’d reached his breaking point, he squeezed her hips and thrust up, impaling her hard and deep. “Oh, Nick,” she groaned, shocked at the full intensity of it.

It took her a second to catch her breath, he filled her so deeply. But when she did, she had to move. Had to slide up and then ease back down. She rode with slow strokes, her arms on his shoulders, looking down into his face as he stared up into hers.

Nick lifted one hand and cupped her cheek, drawing her toward him. Covering her lips with his, he kissed her deeply, sliding his tongue in and out of her mouth in strokes matched by the ones deep inside her core.

The kiss went on and on, slowing or growing frenzied in mirror reactions to the movements of their bodies. Izzie rode him, took him as he’d demanded, using muscles she didn’t even remember she had to stretch out their pleasure.

Their position was perfect for pleasing her both inside and out. And within moments, the friction on her clit provided her with another mind-blowing orgasm.

Finally, though, her legs began to weaken. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take. As if he knew, Nick wrapped his arms around her, cupping her backside, and rose from the chair.

The strength of the man defied description.

Still buried deep within her, he continued kissing her as he walked the few steps to the bed. He dropped her on her back, coming down with her, and took over control.

“Yes, Nick,” she gasped, her legs around his lean hips.

He didn’t reply. He was gone now, mentally just gone, at the mercy of his wildly plunging body. Izzie held on for the ride, whispering frantic words of pleasure, telling him how much he pleased her.

Until she, too, was incapable of words. Together they lost themselves to the power of it until Nick shouted and came deep inside her, sending Izzie spiraling over the edge again, too.

BRIDGET HAD BEEN thinking about her cousin’s words nearly all night Thursday. So much so that she barely slept and climbed out of bed long before her alarm went off Friday morning.

If there was one thing Izzie knew, it was men. And if she thought Bridget hadn’t been sending out strong enough signals to Dean, she was probably right.

Izzie would make her interest more obvious.

So that’s what Bridget would do.

That morning, she dressed for work a bit more carefully than usual. Her regular workday attire was typically a pair of pastel capris or a pair of slacks and a blouse. Today, she shimmied into a yellow skirt that cupped her butt like she’d sat in a tub of butter. Pulling a tight white tank top on with it, she glanced in the mirror and was surprised at what she saw.

She didn’t look much like Bridget, the nice, smiling bookkeeper. In fact, she looked sexy. She had curves…nice ones. Her breasts were high and shapely, highlighted by the scooped neck of the tank top. And while she didn’t have especially long legs, they looked pretty good in the skirt.

Feeling almost armored for battle, she donned a lightweight sweater-which she intended to remove as soon as she saw her quarry-and headed to work. She wanted to get there early so she could get used to walking around the office in the minuscule skirt and high-heeled sandals without tripping and making a fool of herself.

Usually, she was the first one at the dealership, anyway. The lot didn’t open to customers until ten o’clock, with most of the sales staff showing up around nine…a half hour or so after her regular starting time. By the time she got to the lot, it was only seven-thirty, an hour early even for her.

The inside was dark, as expected, and as she entered, she reached for the switch to turn on the bank of overhead lights. But before she did it, something caught her eye…a sliver of light coming from beneath the door to the business office. Where she usually worked.

She supposed she could have forgotten to turn the light off last night when she left. But she was still cautious as she approached. This was a pretty safe area, but occasional robberies certainly weren’t unheard of. She wasn’t about to open the door and surprise some junkie looking for a petty cash box.

When she got to within a few feet of the nearly closed door, she heard a voice from inside. She tensed for the briefest second, then recognized the voice and relaxed.

It was Dean. He’d obviously shown up early for work. Though she didn’t hear whoever he was talking to, she figured someone else must have come in early, too.

Too bad. Had he been alone, she might have been able to put her “send stronger signals” plan into action. If, of course, she had the nerve, which was questionable.

Reaching for the knob, she paused when she heard Dean speak again, answering a question she hadn’t heard asked. That was when she realized the conversation was one-sided. He was talking on the phone to someone.

Not wanting to eavesdrop, she stepped away, catching only the snippet of a comment Dean made. Something about a deal going down. Sounded like their star salesman had landed another buyer-one who liked to close deals very early in the morning.

When she heard his voice stop, she figured she’d see if he was done, and knocked once on the door. Feeling a little foolish-since she was, in essence, knocking on her own office door-she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“Good morning, early-bird,” she said.

He jerked his head up, so surprised he dropped his cell phone right onto the floor near her feet.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” she said. Normally, she’d wait quietly and let him pick up the phone himself. But Izzie’s words kept ringing in her ears. So instead, she carefully bent at the knees, reaching down to pick it up for him. She kept one hand on her skirt, to hold it in place, but Bridget couldn’t deny that it slid up several inches, high on her thighs, despite that.

Still appearing shocked, Dean didn’t say a word. His narrowed eyes were locked on her thighs. His jaw was visibly clenched and he breathed over parted lips.

He looked…hungry. Just as she’d seen him look at her once or twice in the past. More than that, he seemed dangerous. Not nice Dean looking at a pair of woman’s legs, but wickedly sexy Dean looking at a pair of woman’s legs and imagining them wrapped around his waist.