There were too many stairs to Stella’s apartment. One would have been too many. Blood pounded through Jace’s veins as he draped an arm around the petite redhead who had just exhibited a very interesting tendency to lose control when he got her going.

He wanted to do it again. Many times. While taking her from behind, while she sucked him off, while in the shower. He had a good imagination that was currently spinning out scenarios faster than he could store them all away.

Finally they made it through the door, and he slammed it closed with one foot, already whirling Stella up against it so he could brace an arm on the wood as he kissed her. It had been at least five minutes since the last time he had his tongue in her mouth, and that was four and three-quarters of a minute too long.

God, she was the hottest combination of saint and sinner, sucking him under her spell instantly. Yet she seemed to have no clue how turned on she got him solely with the shape of her mouth. The curve of her waist fit his palm as if she’d been carved for him. He hardly had to touch her before she soared off into the stratosphere, and her face when she came—it was so beautiful it hurt.

He could not wait to be inside her while he made that happen again and again. Ready to burst, he shoved a leg between her thighs, but she was too short and the angle didn’t work.

“Bedroom?” he growled as he swept her up in his arms, too impatient to wait for her to figure out that he needed her to move now.

Stella pointed down the hall, her mouth already busy wandering over his earlobe, nuzzling him as she explored. Her tongue darted out to trace the line of his throat, and he nearly stumbled but caught himself and walked faster. Scarcely noticing the feminine décor and the odd shelf of stuffed animals, he laid her out on the bed, knelt on the mattress, and systematically began the process of stripping her again. He’d have preferred to keep her naked the entire time, but the stairs to her apartment were outside the building, and while he would have gladly paraded naked between bar and bedroom, he got that she might have a better sense of modesty than he did.

Why she thought she should be modest, he had no clue. As he unwrapped, the beauty of her milky skin appeared bit by gorgeous bit, and he couldn’t keep his mouth off her. Silky shirt—gone. Shoulders—delicious. He swirled a tongue along her clavicle, dipping into the hollows until she exhaled in a long rush laced with his name, and the sound of it inflamed him.

Had no clue about that either. Usually he was the talker, loved telling a woman what he was doing to her as he did it, especially if he could throw in a few of the flowery phrases that always came so easily to his lips. Women ate that stuff up.

But hearing Stella talk to him was a turn-on of epic proportions. He wanted more. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

“You, Jace,” she murmured, her hands in her hair as he ran his tongue between her breasts until his fingers worked the clasp of her bra loose, then it was gone.

Her dusky nipples were legendary, darker against the whiter flesh of her breasts that had clearly never seen sunlight. Stella wasn’t the nude sunbathing type, and it showed in her skin. It was nearly spiritual to bend his head and roll one of her taut peaks against his tongue. She cried out, arching off the bed, her hands scrabbling at his shirt.

“Take this off,” she instructed breathlessly, and it was such a sweet command that he did. “Now the rest.”

“Well, I guess we’ve met Bossy Stella.”

“That’s because you’re taking too long to get naked.” She sat up, her gaze sharpening, but whether because she liked the idea of being in charge or didn’t want to miss anything, he couldn’t say.

“I’m a fan of both nakedness and a woman who can take charge, by the way.”

“Then stand up and let me watch you.”

Bossy Stella pushed on his chest, her fingers nipping hard into his pecs, which gave a pretty good indication of her excitement level. He was so amused by the idea of doing a strip tease for her that he did that too. Her hot gaze devoured him whole as he took his time unzipping his jeans, peeling them down low on his hips in a complete tease as he toed off the flip-flops he wore year round.

With exaggerated motion, he pulled the string of condoms from his back pocket and tossed them on the bed. Six. Seemed like a good number.

She glanced at them with a funny side-eye and twirled her finger in a universal get-on-with-it motion. Her eagerness shot a lick of fire through his groin, so he indulged them both by sliding off his pants and underwear in one motion. Her eyes flared wide, zeroing in on the erection she’d begged to have available for her viewing pleasure.

And pleasure it was, apparently. The little noise of appreciation she made in her throat delighted him to no end.

“God, Jace, you’re gorgeous.”

Hardly the first time he’d heard that, but from Stella’s mouth, with the slight reverence in her tone that said she counted herself lucky to be here… it humbled him. She was an amazing, capable woman who obviously had no need for a man, or she’d have had a dozen lovers lined up into next week. The fact that she’d let him into her bed after a self-confessed hiatus doubled his resolve to worship at her altar until she understood beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was the lucky one.

He reached out, making short work of the rest of her clothes, and flipped off the light, plunging the room into darkness.

“What was that for?” she grumbled lightly. “Now I can’t see you.”

“Yes, you can. Close your eyes.” His knees hit the edge of the mattress, and he lowered himself down next to her, rolling her into his arms gently. “We have plenty of time to make love in full daylight. Later. Sight is only one of your senses. Tonight is about all the other ones. Feel me. Taste me. Hear me.”

“Jace.” Her voice shuddered through him. “You keep surprising me.”

Because she made him want to up his game. Constantly. He’d never worked so hard to get a woman into bed in his life, and he was going to enjoy every second of it. “I hope that never stops being true. In a good way.”

To her credit, she leaped into the tactile exercise with gusto that stole his breath. Her hands were everywhere all at once, gliding along his torso, thumbing across the steel length curving into his abdomen. Once she got going, there wasn’t a millimeter of his body she didn’t touch, and then she got her mouth in on the action, dragging her tongue along the contours of his chest until he was the one thrashing under her onslaught.

Whose bright idea was this game again?

Before long, she was crawling down the length of his body, and by the time she hit his thighs, he was wild with need. Her sweet little tongue danced closer and closer to the end of the rainbow, and she made the tactical error of tangling him up in her hair, which was pretty much the most erotic thing he’d ever felt in his life. And then she licked him.

His hips spasmed, and that was enough of that. Yeah, every nerve in his body was poised to come in her hair, but that was not how he wanted to go the first time. Growling out a warning, he snagged her shoulders and pulled her on top of him. Better. She draped over his chest, straddling him with her thighs, and she seemed to like that a lot, judging by the heat radiating from her center that seeped clear to his bones.

Okay, no. That was not better. Unless she intended to stay there for a while. “You’re welcome to saddle up, sweetheart, but it’ll be a mighty intense ride for your first rodeo.”

She snorted. “If you never say that again, it’ll be too soon.”

Her eye-roll was nearly audible, and it actually made him laugh. Which hurt.

“You don’t like bucking bronco analogies?” he teased.

“I don’t like analogies period. What I like is the feel of you under me. I’m not moving, so do your worst.”

The challenge hung in the dark between them, and he almost snapped on the light because holy hell did he want to see her. He was a visual creature at heart. But this was something different. Special. And he didn’t want it to be normal in any way.

“How about if I do my best instead?” he murmured and flipped their positions so fast that she squeaked as he covered her, reveling in the sensations of her lush body against his.

This was pure physical euphoria, permission to just savor every whisper and shush of awareness. The slide of skin. The nesting of their legs. Her gasps brushed his cheek as he touched her. The scent of her arousal curled through his blood, calling to him, and his erection tightened and pulsed with need.

She was so restless that he wouldn’t last long unless he took some of that edge off. And besides, he could spend hours exploring all her hot buttons. The brush of his lips along her stomach, for example, got her hips rolling, and that was so hot he dragged his tongue the rest of the way, ending through her wet center. Stella’s taste seeped through his mouth, flowing like honey again, and he forgot that he’d been desperate to get inside her.

She was so responsive, moaning his name over and over, and it was the best sort of aphrodisiac to feel her thrash beneath his mouth.

“Jace, I… want—” she panted in her I’m so turned on I can’t form whole sentences voice.

“I’m right here, sweetheart.” Another long slow lick tightened her thighs, and he toyed with the entrance to her slick channel, running a fingertip around the edge. “Something else you wanted?”

“You. So big. Need. Hard.”

It was barely English, but the essence of her plea flooded him. Fishing around for the condoms, he sheathed himself and fell back into position at her entrance. Arms entwined like vines on a tree trunk, she clung to him, murmuring hurry in little gaspy whispers.

But hurrying was the last thing on his mind as he pushed into her missionary style. Then it was his turn to gasp as she enclosed him so fully and perfectly that he couldn’t breathe.

Something divine and raw bloomed inside, radiating until it melded with the physical sensations. This was the culmination of everything, and the significance of it mounted, spiraling on itself in the dark until he could hardly believe his skin still held together. Surely so much energy would burst free at any second.

He began to move, creating a slow, sensual assault on his senses. Her hips rolled, thrusting him deeper, and he could hardly remember his name as wave after wave of heat dragged him closer and closer to the edge of the caldera. He pulled out and pushed back in, stumbling into the heart of the volcano without any warning.

He was going to come. After forty-seven seconds. It was ridiculous. What was he, seventeen? But she’d worked him up so much for weeks and weeks. The feel of her was unbelievable, as if there really was something to this darkness experiment. It heightened the mystical quality, and he needed this, needed her, more than oxygen.

Clawing back the orgasm through some force of will he’d never again replicate, he found her center with his thumb and coaxed her to a frenzied pace as he circled her there. Hips pistoning in time with his, meeting him thrust for thrust, she took every punishingly deep stroke with cries that thrilled through him. When she came, it was with a hoarse half scream, her slick channel closing around him again and again, and he wanted it to last forever.

But the white-hot lava erupted before he was ready, splattering through his insides with searing sensation that was so, so good. Vision graying as he emptied himself, he snagged her lips with his, holding her in a long kiss as the release drained his energy.

Collapsing to the mattress and taking her with him, he clutched her to his sweat-soaked chest, panting through the recovery of a lifetime. He wanted to tell her that it had been amazing, but for once, words failed him. How could he verbalize that experience without sounding like an idiot? Thank you was far too lackluster. In the end, he didn’t speak, just rearranged her in his arms and held on, breathing through the most profound sense of peace.

Her hair swept across his chest as she turned her head, nestling into place against him, apparently fully content with the status quo. Jace drifted, his current plan to never move again, except she wiggled away after a scant two minutes and sat up.

“I have to close down the bar,” she announced as if this was a perfectly rational thing to say after having your mind blown with the best sex of your life.

Or maybe that had just been on his side.

“It’ll still be there tomorrow,” he muttered and felt for the curve of her waist where his hand fit so well that he tugged until her body was against his again. She felt like silk and sin, and she stirred him up fiercely with nothing other than the press of her bottom into his groin.

Laughing like he was kidding, she pushed at his chest and arm, not seriously struggling, but it was ingrained to let go when a woman even hinted that she wasn’t on board with being constrained.

“I can’t leave the cleanup until tomorrow,” she said, and you’re so silly was implied. “There’s something like two hundred dollars in the register just sitting there asking to be stolen, as well as the money in the drop box. The ashtrays haven’t even been emptied.”

“Yeah, okay.” They couldn’t leave the bar in its current state. He got that it was important to her. But what he didn’t get was how unaffected she seemed by an event that had been earthshattering to him. A repeat had been on his mind. Not hers, apparently, if she could still think about the bar.

And he was being a big fat baby. Snapping on the light, he let his eyes adjust by drinking in the gorgeous female form moving at a much faster pace than he would have credited. How could she still walk? He couldn’t. A miasma had overtaken him, and pretty much the only thing he wanted to do was roll Stella underneath him and take it slow and easy the second time. Make it last for about an hour.

Instead of the hot little skirt she’d been wearing—in anticipation of what he’d done to her on the service counter, no doubt, a detail he appreciated—she slid her slim legs into a pair of jeans and covered her beautiful breasts with a bra and T-shirt.

“That’s fine, get dressed,” he told her with a lazy drawl and rolled to his stomach to hide the erection that had started to form as he watched her. What kind of crap was that? There was something wrong with him if a woman putting on clothes turned him on. “I know what’s under there now. And I’m just going to take it all off again later.”

Hands on her hips, she paused and glanced at him still lounging on the bed, hands fisted under his chin as he enjoyed the show.

“You’re helping. Unless you plan to do it naked, which is totally fine with me, by the way, you should get dressed too.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he shot back, but her frown bobbled his pulse for a second. “I was just teasing. There was never a point when I was not going to help.”

“It’s just… Never mind.” Her face went blank, and she turned to rummage through one of the drawers in a tall dresser against the far wall, emerging with a pair of socks in her hand. Instead of sitting on the bed like a normal person did to put on socks, she sank to the floor a foot from the dresser. Why, because he was on the bed? What did she think he was going to do, throw her down and force her to endure his attention while she fretted about the mess downstairs?

“This is not the time to start pulling punches, Stella,” he advised her and rolled to his feet to pull on his own clothes. “If you’ve got something to say, I’m all ears.”

He’d have hoped that was a given. Nothing had changed because they’d slept together, at least not on his part. Had something changed for her? An icy hand squeezed his stomach. Something had changed. They’d had their fun, and now she was done. That wasn’t it, was it?

Seemed like she wasn’t too keen on the idea of clarifying either way because she did a fair impersonation of a clam, a skill that Jace did not care to learn she had down cold. Neither did he want to push it when that wasn’t anyone’s definition of fun.

Fully dressed and not too happy about the direction of their postcoital vibe, he followed her downstairs so they could contend with the bar cleanup. This was part of being partner material, and he did it gladly. Or as gladly as he could when she was still upset and he had no idea what he’d done to earn the silent treatment other than give her orgasms that put her command of the English language at risk.

Most women liked that.

But he liked Stella enough to grant her the space she clearly wanted until they’d gone a full thirty minutes without conversation outside of the utilitarian variety such as “pass the sponge.”

“So about the frost in the air,” he said after they’d finished washing and drying all the glassware. “Do I need to find a jacket, or will you fill me in on what’s going on with you?”

Stony face. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Which was code for something’s wrong, and he should either figure it out because it was obvious, or he should already know what was wrong. Of course, he had no shot at this. He’d only ever watched other guys navigate relationship waters. But all at once, he had a new respect for the teammates he’d railed at for excluding him as they disappeared into their own little clubs of two. This kind of thing wasn’t easy. It took time and patience, but it was worth it. He hoped.

This was his relationship to make or break. And he didn’t want to break it.

“Sweetie, I don’t want to be one of those couples. I’m not a misogynistic jerk, nor am I a mind reader. If I did something wrong, tell me so I can apologize.”

She scowled and pulled off the yellow rubber gloves she wore when she washed dishes. “We’re not a couple.”

Ouch. She must be really steamed if that was the one thing she’d picked out of his statement to focus on.

“Semantics.” He stored the last of the wineglasses upside down in the overhead hanger. Just as soon as she got over her mad and realized how great they were together, he’d convince her that there wasn’t anything wrong with the concept of being a couple. “You’re deflecting. The thing I don’t know is why.”

“What is this, pop psychology hour?”

Whatever worked. They were talking now, which meant he was maybe a little better at reading her than she was apparently giving him credit for. “I’ve picked up a few things here and there. Can’t interrogate terrorists if you don’t learn people’s tells.”

She blinked. That had gotten a reaction. And not necessarily a good one. She didn’t like that he had her number. He didn’t like that while he could easily deduce her mindset, it still didn’t give him clairvoyance into the reason she had gotten upset. He needed her to participate in this relationship, or there’d be no reason to continue it.

Big sigh from Stella.

“You made me feel old,” she muttered, not looking at him. “You’ve never called me ma’am before.”

Geez. “That was a form of respect, sweetheart. I call every woman ma’am, especially those I think highly of.”

“I’ve never heard you call a customer ma’am.” She attacked the bar with a sponge, studiously continuing the pointed refusal to meet his gaze. “Especially not the pretty ones.”

Jace leaned a hip on the bar on the other side of the register because he did not want to get in the way of her frenzied cleaning and opted not to remind her she’d already wiped the bar down. With bleach. “You’re not old. I’m not young. We’re just two people who have insanely hot chemistry and want to be with each other. Unless that’s stopped being true in the past thirty minutes, don’t make that into a thing.”

Another big sigh. “I just felt like your mom all at once.”

“My mom is fifty-five. She’s old enough to be your mom.” Risking life and limb, he reached out and stilled her hand on the bar, then tipped up her chin so he could speak to her without the rote tasks of cleanup between them. “What’s this really about?”

“Stop being so smart.” She shut her eyes. “It’s just stupid girl stuff.”

So he’d been right that it wasn’t one hundred percent about him calling her ma’am. There was more here under the surface. “Like what, honey? This thing between us isn’t going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere. Unless you want me to.”

“I don’t,” she shot back quickly enough to pull a smile from him. “Not at all! I mean, you’re amazing and fantastic and so much better than I ever dreamed. And oh, God did I do a lot of that. But you were… Holy crap, how do I even—and then I couldn’t—”

“Stella.” She blinked and finally really focused on his face. “First off, thank you. That was the most sincere babbled compliment I think I’ve ever gotten. Second, breathe. And then tell me what you couldn’t do.”

“Compare!” she blurted out and then screwed her eyes shut. “You’ve slept with so many beautiful women—”

“Stop it,” he growled as his heart twisted right out of his chest and plopped onto the floor at her feet. She was serious. “Stop it right now. For a smart woman, that’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said. You don’t have to compare with anyone because there’s no comparison. It’s not a contest. I’m here with you because I want to be, and honestly, you’re easily in the top five most beautiful women I’ve ever seen in my life, including ones in magazines and on TV. But I’m not sleeping with you because you’re pretty or beat out choice B. I’m sleeping with you because you’re amazing and fantastic and better than anything I dreamed about.”

Her small smile went a long way toward unfreezing the ice in his chest. Yeah, he’d slept with a lot of women. He couldn’t erase that. If he could, he would have, strictly since it seemed to matter to her and not for reasons he would have guessed.

“It’s just…” She hesitated. But when he cocked his head, she continued. “I’ve never had a sex-only relationship. I figure I should be better at it. You know, since that’s all there is between us. It’s supposed to be fun, and I’m not sure I’m doing it right. And then you turned off the light—”

He bit back a curse. Because he’d wanted to have a different experience with her. And apparently she’d taken it as a sign he didn’t want to see her. As mistakes went, that one was stupid. But easily rectifiable.

“This is where I’ll do the apologizing,” he told her sincerely. “I’m sorry. That was a boneheaded move then.”

He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. The bar was in good enough shape, and what they hadn’t finished, they could do later. Like tomorrow. Clearly she needed a lesson in how absolutely bonkers about her he was.

This was also the part where he made good on Stella’s caveman fantasy. She squeaked when he slung her over his shoulder.

“I can walk, Jace,” she informed him, but there was a note of pure intrigue underpinning the whole thing, and also, she wasn’t struggling, so…

“Shhh. I like the view.” He stroked a thumb down her very fine backside and used the other hand to lock the door behind him as he carried her upstairs. “We’re going to have a long conversation, you and I, about how I see you. While the lights are on.”

And at the same time, he would throw in a few points about how there was so much more between them than sex. He needed that notion gone. Now that he’d tasted paradise, he wasn’t so keen to keep pretending this was only a fun romp. There was no walking away, no going back to being nothing but boss and employee. There was a whole different partnership brewing here, one he hadn’t seen coming but was a reality.

He was falling for her. After what he’d experienced tonight, the things she’d made him feel… he was comfortable calling it that. And the sooner he got her comfortable with it, the better.