I’m nervous as I carry the tray of shots to the table Lucy’s selected. Not because I am prey being hunted, but because I like it. Every time Olivia looks at me with those bedroom eyes, my cock twitches. It’s not just that, though.

Something inside me is stirring, like a sleeping beast in its lair. For twenty years I’ve been dead, but Olivia makes me feel alive. Wide awake and alert, ready for anything.

And I know Lucy won’t have it.

She’d be completely right, of course. Olivia is family—my cousin’s little sister. Even if she’s adopted. Even if we didn’t grow up together. I share no memories with her but we share family. Her parents are my aunt and uncle, for fuck’s sake. It’s one place I can’t go—and it’s the place I most want to be.

So the shots make me nervous. I haven’t had a drink in two decades, never mind motherfucking tequila. There’s a reason they call it To Kill Ya. Before I went in, the hardest thing I’d had was a swig of whiskey, and back then I damn near spat it out. Olivia looks at me like I’m this exotic creature, but I’m more like a kid who’s just turned twenty-one. I don’t know my tolerance level—and I don’t know what’s going to stop me from bending her over one of these tables.

I inhale through my nose. Lucy will stop me. As long as she’s with us, I can behave. I have to contain myself, because I owe Lucy big time.

We gather around the shots, my cousin eyeing them suspiciously. Olivia passes out the first round. Her tongue darts along the curve of her thumb and finger, her eyes locked on mine.

Christ, I can’t even look away.

She shakes salt onto the spot she licked, then hands it to me. I feel like a loser for not already knowing how to do this. Mimicking her, I lick my own hand, which is kind of disgusting. I’d rather lick her.

Properly salted up, we raise our glasses in a salute, limes in our other hands. Olivia bellows out a "Bottoms up!" and both women down their shots with ease, lick the salt off their hands, and pop the wedges of lime into their mouths. They watch me with matching green smiles.

"Fuck it," I mutter, and copy them.

The tequila is the worst thing I’ve ever tasted, but I’ve long mastered a stone face. I slam my empty glass down and start passing the next round.

"I guess you aren’t such an alien after all," Lucy remarks as she salts her hand.

I cock a "Nope" eyebrow at her and raise my glass.

Olivia bumps my arm gently with hers and clinks her shot glass against mine. "To freedom," she says. Her eyes never leave mine as she takes the shot. That velvet tongue caresses her hand, salt shining in the dingy light as it dances in her mouth. Then she sucks the lime into her mouth real slow, her lips pulsing around it.

I need some distance between us, stat.

I rush through my shot, chasing it with one of the remaining three on the tray. I wipe the salt off on my jeans and ditch the lime. Then I’m across the bar and out the door. It doesn’t take long. The bar is small.

The icy winter air is even better than a cold shower. I walk a little away from the bar’s facade, gulping in arctic air. Leaning against the bricks of another building, I tip my head back and close my eyes. The alcohol pumps through my system, a dreamy dizziness carrying me off. One shot was probably enough.

A silky voice warms me up. "Smoke?"

My eyes open. Olivia stands in front of me, a cigarette extended. One is already lit between her lips. I swallow hard and take the proffered cigarette. Before I can ask for a light, a flame flares from her hand in front of me. She holds the lighter steady until I’m lit, then pockets it.

"Now you owe me seven years of good sex," she says with a wink. Her words aren’t even slurred. We’re not playing on fair ground. Her brows furrow. "Or I owe you. I forget which it is. Either way." Those eyes smolder into mine. She steps forward.

I’m still leaning against the wall, so there isn’t really anywhere to go. I stop her with an arm, holding her in place. "We can’t," I rasp while exhaling smoke into the night.

Her head tilts. "Can’t talk while smoking?" Either I’m drunk or the corners of her mouth really are curled upward.

"I know what you’re doing." The world is blurry around me. Not the way it looks, but the way it feels. Everything is fuzzy. Beer buzzes have got nothing on tequila drunk.

"What am I doing?" She sucks on the cigarette several seconds longer than necessary. "I’m just smoking." Her eyes drop to the hard-on in my jeans. "What are you doing?"

"Christ." I shake my head. "I’m not doing this."

Olivia takes another step toward me. "Why not?"

Because a thousand reasons. They all fly through my head and into the night. I rub at my chin with my free hand. "Fuck," I rumble. I can’t think. I don’t know whether it’s her or the alcohol, but . . .

I freeze.

"You did this shit on purpose," I say through a sandpaper laugh. "You got me drunk and now you’re trying to cart me off somewhere."

"Well," she says with a straight face, "there wasn’t a pool table."

I blink at her in confusion. While I’m trying to figure it out, she stands up on the balls of her feet and grabs the back of my neck. Instantly I lose control.

I spin her around, dropping my cigarette and pressing her against the wall. My knee parts her knees, my arms caging her in. For a second I breathe in the scent of her hair. It smells dark, sweet, and euphoric. The feelings pounding through me have nothing to do with the alcohol I’ve consumed.

It’s all her.

I lean down, soaking in the scent of her skin: clean and feminine. My nose brushes her cheek and my lips hone in.

My mouth brushes hers. Even in my inebriated state, I want to enjoy every second of this. Because it will never, ever happen again. I drag my lips against hers, and she shivers. She’s immobile in my arms, not because I’m crushing her but because she’s just as earnest to enjoy the moment. We both know this is the only one we’ll ever get.

But she’s hungry, and her lips part. Teeth sink into my lower lip, and her mouth closes around me, sucking and licking. My cock twitches again, every pint of blood in my veins hurtling into it. This is a complete waste.

It’s been twenty years.

I’ll be lucky if I last five minutes.

"Fuck." I pivot away from her, trembling with control thrashing at its cage, begging to be loosed. I stalk away several paces, my hands clenched at my sides. I don’t want to be the worst she’s ever had. I want to be the man who makes her realize she’s never truly had sex. Not until me.

This is no good at all. I really am a teenager all over again.

Her arms wrap around me, fingers plucking at the button of my jeans. "I don’t care," she whispers into my back. "I want whatever you’ve got."

This woman can read minds. I should be terrified, but I’m just turned on even more. It’s as if she knows me, like she’s always been lurking in the shadows.

Like we’ve just been training for this moment.

It’s a mindless, drunk thought, but it erases any shred of guilt I have remaining. I turn around and wrap my arms around her. "Lucy," I remind her, speaking into the top of her head.

She rests her forehead against my chest. "Yeah," she sighs. "I guess we’ll just have to be honest."

Releasing her, I stumble back. "Are you fucking serious? Do you really think she’d go for this?"

Olivia shrugs. "Who cares? I thought you just meant she’s in there all by herself." Her eyes dance with the unspoken dare.

"I’d rather she not find out." I shove my hands into my pockets. This woman drives fucking holeshots around me. And I don’t even care. It’s been a week and I’m already addicted. I wonder if this happens to every man who does time. Do we just imprint on the first woman we come across on the other side? What I’m feeling for her probably isn’t even real. It’s just desperation, the primal urge to sink into something I haven’t had in a long time.

I’m only a man, but even still, I don’t want to use her like that. This woman deserves fine dinners and coffee in the morning. I’m not saying I want to put a ring on it, but it feels wrong to fuck her and duck out.

Maybe I have done my penance after all.

"Look," Olivia says, dragging me out of my thoughts. "Luce has never interfered with my love life. Or sex life." She grins mischievously. "She may not approve, but she doesn’t get to tell me what to do. Or you, for that matter. Just because she came down here and bought you clothes—"

I hold up a hand. "Don’t say that. This is flat out disrespectful, and you know it. We’re . . ." Family, but I can’t even say the word. This is all so fucking wrong.

She hisses a laugh. "We’re not family, if that’s what you were going to say. You’re a man, and I’m a woman. We’re two people with the same itch, the lock and key. We need each other." Her eyes grow two sizes and her voice drops. "I need you."

I’m too drunk. I can’t dodge her shrapnel. And she’s right: we’re both consenting adults, and we’re not related by blood. No one is committing a crime. It’s better to just get it over with while we’re still drunk. Then we can go back to what we were doing before.

We’ve been outside "smoking" for so long, I’m surprised Lucy hasn’t come looking for us. Sucking in a deep breath, I drop my shoulders, all the fight melting out of me. Not that I was putting up much of a defense. All I can do is hope that this isn’t one colossal fucking mistake.

"You’re out of cigarettes," I say. "Let’s go get some more."

Her eyes drop to her pocket. "No I’m not." She fumbles out her pack. "Look, still got like ten." She lights two at once and passes me one. "Now eight."

I take the cigarette and walk down the street, away from the bar. She’ll figure it out and follow me. And if she doesn’t, I’ll just have to deal with this raging erection myself the old fashioned way. No harm, no foul. I’ll leave it all up to her.

Footsteps behind me tell me that fate has taken my side. Olivia catches up and tucks her hand into mine. We walk and smoke in silence, my eyes scanning the area around us, looking for a place. There’s no convenient alley, no restaurants with bathrooms. It’s mostly a residential area.

After what feels like an hour, I stop walking and turn toward Olivia. I shake my head. "This isn’t going to work." The tequila is still floating in my veins, dragging me into the undertow. I drop my arms and pin Olivia with a concluding gaze. Maybe fate wasn’t on my side after all.

"Hold on," she says, glancing up and down the street. There’s a dangerous look in her eyes, one that simultaneously draws me in and makes me pause. This woman might look harmless, but she’s a criminal when it comes to sex. She grabs my hand and tugs me forward, trying car doors as we walk.

She’s dead serious.

"Olivia, what the fuck are you doing?" I mutter. "I’m on parole. You know that, right?"

She tosses me a challenging look. "Is your probation officer here right now?"

"No, but—"

"Relax," she says, pulling the door of a station wagon open. "We’re not technically breaking in if it isn’t locked."

There are so many technicalities wrapped up in this night.

She climbs into the back seat, shedding clothing. "It’s roomy in here," she purrs, beckoning me inside.

With one more glance at the street, I climb in after her, shutting the door behind me.

Our breath steams up the windows. She peels off garments, flinging them into the passenger seat. Within seconds, she’s naked.

"Your turn."

So much for savoring this.

I yank off my jeans, shirt, and coat. My cock stands at full attention. Olivia regards me with an amused expression on her face. Heat flushes my cheeks. "What?"

"You were commando?" she asks, crawling into my lap.

I laugh. “I ran out before, and didn’t get a chance to change after we did laundry.”

Olivia smiles back. A wisp of hair falls into her eyes. I brush it back gently, my eyes roving over her face. Suddenly we’re shy teenagers who thought they were ready but don’t really know what to do next.

My hands drop to her hips, fingers caressing the soft flesh. "You really want this?"

She nods. Her arms encircle my neck, those eyes locked on mine. It could be a trick of the light, but she looks truly happy. Maybe she’s one of those people who really, really like sex. Whatever the reason, I’m honored to be the one to make her feel good—in multiple ways.

Soft lips tug at mine, her tongue flitting across my bottom lip. She sucks me between her teeth while her hands trail to my shoulders. The heat radiating from her warm center is so inviting.

My tongue plunges into her mouth, a growl escaping my lips. I should be gentle with her, but I don’t want to. I want to consume her until I’m completely intoxicated, neither of us able to walk.

Her legs wrap around my waist, her hips thrusting her soft wetness against me. Fingers from one hand pluck at my nipples, while her other hand wraps around me.

In just a few seconds, I’m going to throw back the bars of the cage. "One more time," I growl into her mouth. "Do you really want this?"

She rubs the head of me against her slit in response.

Her slick wetness makes me come completely undone. In one motion, I twist our bodies until she’s flat on her back. Her legs wrap around me, and I lower myself until I’m throbbing at her entrance. Olivia gives me a final nod, and I slide in.

Her warmth envelopes me, and I almost come halfway through my first thrust. "I’m not going to last long," I choke out.

"Shh," she soothes into my ear. "It’s okay. Just give me all you’ve got, baby." Her arms lock around my neck and she clings to me with her whole body. I sheath myself in her, embedded deep inside.

Slowly, I slide out, until just the tip of me is in her. I caress the side of her breast and each rib with my fingers as I make my way down to her. I want this to be just as good for her as it is for me.

Stroking her with my fingers, I plunge into her again with slow precision. With each thrust, I get more into a rhythm, two knuckles grinding against her. She shivers underneath me, tiny moans tumbling from her lips. Hard nipples rub against my chest, a complete parallel to her soft breasts pressed to my pecs. Our hearts pound against each other, blood boiling, edging us closer and closer.

My cock surges, the fire of the orgasm blowing through me.

"Fuck," I growl into her ear. "No."

She gasps, shouting out. "Just fuck me," she pants, and I do. I plow into her, rubbing her, begging her. This will all be for nothing if I can’t take her with me.

Olivia arches into me, her back coming straight off the floor. A moan ripples through the station wagon, her nails raking down my back. "Yes, baby, yes," she breathes as she shivers against me.

The last twenty years rush out of me, pulsing into her. I feel her tighten and expand around me, driving us both into the abyss.

It’s the best I’ve ever had.

I collapse, rolling to the side so I don’t crush her. A stream of hot liquid gushes down my thigh. Resting on my back, I stare at the ceiling, my breath ragged. Beside me, she exhales and turns onto her side.

"Wow," she says, grinning. "Thank you." She dips her chin. Our eyes meet for a second, then she reaches into the front seat for her cigarettes. The flash of bare skin exposes a twin stream running down her leg.

My heart just about stops.

"Fuck," I say, scrambling to sit up. "We need to get to a store. We didn’t—I mean, I didn’t—"

She glances over her shoulder. Now she really does look amused. "Relax," she says, handing me a cigarette. "I’m on the pill."

I fall back, relief rushing through me. I smoke in silence, and decide I’ve had enough thrills in one night to last me a lifetime. From here on out, I’m keeping my head down and playing it straight.

This can never, ever happen again.