He was going to hurt you worse if I didn’t stop him.

The way Nate said it made Jessie’s heart flutter and pang. But then, that was probably still the effects of the drug. The drug that made her want to play Cleopatra to his Mark Antony.

Yeah right. She’d wanted Nate in her bed long before the sadistic stranger had doped her.

Nate stepped closer. Jessie hurried to her purse, pulled out her phone, and dialed 911. Nate did nothing to stop her. Only watched, carefully, silently.

All she could get on the line was static. She tried Emily next. Same thing. “What the hell is wrong with cell reception out here?”

“Why are you single, Jessie?”

She couldn’t have heard him right. “What?”

“You haven’t had a serious relationship since high school.”

“Are you asking about my love life when we should be filing a police report?”

“Someone hurt you.”

It wasn’t like he thought, though. It wasn’t like anyone thought. She’d never been able to live up to people’s expectations that she’d be as sexy and ethereal as her celebrity mother. “What would you know about my dating history?”

“I guessed right then.”

“Not hardly,” she replied. His intense gaze confused her. What was he thinking? She crossed her arms in front of her. “Do you have a land line?” She’d file a report, and then go to bed. Alone.

Or better yet, maybe she’d take a therapeutic dose of ScrewItAll, get Scourge from Mason, and go home.

“No land line, Jess, but I told you I’d take care of this.”

She threw her hands in the air. “But when? The authorities need to discover who supplies his drugs. I’m serious. This drug needs to be taken off the streets.”

He opened his mouth like he was going to argue.

“Please, Nate.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Fine.”

When he turned away and pulled a phone out of his pocket, she heard him swear under his breath.

He was frustrated. Well, so was she. “So your cell phone works out here, but not mine?”

He shrugged, and she studied him while he paced, speaking in low tones to someone on the other end of the line. His striking dark hair always looked a little untamed. Jet black eyelashes cast spiky shadows against the smooth skin under his eyes, and the faint scruff on his cheeks, chin, and upper lip made her breath catch with its blatant masculinity, the gritty feel of it rubbing against her skin, a pure thrill.

Her hungry gaze traveled from his beautiful face to the hand holding the phone—a very capable hand—and further up a sexy forearm that appeared almost structural now that his long sleeves had been rolled back. Her eyes caressed his shoulders outlined by the soft silk shirt, then tracked their way down his trunk, which tapered excellently to his hips and, oh wow, his bulg—

“Like what you see?”

Golly, yes. She took her sweet time bringing her gaze back up to his face. His nostrils flared, his stance widening as he translated the look in her eyes. She hadn’t even been aware that he’d finished his call. Her chest couldn’t expand with a full breath. She fanned herself with her hand. “Can I, uh, would you mind turning off the fireplace? It’s kinda…hot in here.”

His eyes glinted, his lips curved. “It’s just you, Jessie.”

She laughed and then cringed because it sounded so fake. “Yeah, maybe I should change.”

“Anything that comes off your body will be by my hands.”

Okay then. She swallowed as he stepped closer. “Well…” Now what? “Are the police on their way? They don’t usually take a report over the phone. They generally dispatch an officer to do that.”

His eyes narrowed. “You seem to know a lot about the process.”

“I watch a lot of crime TV.” And she’d helped several acquaintances get out of abusive situations. One of the many reasons she wanted to become a prosecuting attorney.

He moved behind her. “Do you have any stalker ex-boyfriends I should be aware of?”

“That’s none of your business,” she breathed. But she couldn’t think when his body heat was blanketing her backside like that.

“So I can be intimate with your body, but not your mind?”

His rough whisper made her feel faint and quivery and a little bit afraid. Like she’d conquered the steep side of a cliff and now wondered how in hell she was going to get back down. Her spine was ramrod straight, though his lazy caress on her arm made her want to melt against him.

“Let’s keep our emotions out of this.”

His fingertips stilled on her arm for a moment. She held her breath until his hand began moving again. “It’s been ages since I tangled with such a contrary woman.”

“Contrary.”

“Yes, your stuffy speech is notably discordant with what your body so spectacularly reveals.”

Oh, he was a wicked one. “Good grief, listen to you. You said yourself it’s the drug in my system.”

He turned her around to look at him. “Your pupils are remarkably dilated right now, Jess. Before, when you were bewitched, they were tiny pinpricks. That means, your current hunger is All. About. Me.”

Her retort expired when his lips closed around her earlobe.

Damn. What a speech. And he’d said ‘bewitched.’ Who talked like that?

She was on a fast moving train to Heartbreak City because the painful truth was she wanted him. Badly. His heat, his devil-may-care arrogance, his manner of speaking.

All of it loud and large and in her face.

She placed her hands on his pectorals and turned her lips to his. A kiss. On her terms. This merging of mouths was her decision, and that felt really important.

Until she forgot to think anymore.

His lips were hard and soft at the same time. Warm. She always felt warm around him. The heat filled her, his hands on her upper arms, drawing her closer. She sighed into his mouth. His heavy breath was arousing.

That she could also bring him to this state was...delicious.

She brought a hand to his neck and felt his pulse hammering there. “Mmm, I like you.”

His chest rumbled. She vocalized in return, nuzzling his jaw, dotting kisses along the gruff plane of his cheek. When her hand snuck under his shirt, his ab wall jerked. His chest shook. No, his whole body was shaking. His lips were extra firm against hers as though stretched tightly over his teeth. And…

Wait, what?

She leaned back a fraction. When the fog in her brain cleared, heat flooded her cheeks. She pushed at his chest and brought her palms to her flaming face. “Mind telling me what is so amusing?”

He wrapped his arms around her again in a tight hug, trying to keep his laughter from spilling out, but failing miserably, the knave. “Jessie, you are such a joy. I like you, too. So very much.”

Score another one for the whole no-mouth-filter thing that her mother had harped about endlessly. Cheese and rice, Jessie. Would it be too much to ask to make out with a guy without humiliating herself?

And honestly, how could she actually like him?

The fact that it was true was such a betrayal to Mason.

She hung her head, wanting to bolt, but knowing it was pointless since she’d signed the contract.

Nate kissed the top of her head. “No one has told me they liked me for a terribly long time. Thank you for that.” His long fingers plucked her hands from her cheeks. “You make everything that is old, fresh and invigorating again. I laugh because I’m happy. Not because I’m mocking you.”

She swallowed and quickly looked at the fireplace that had been lit as though waiting for her. She’d never made anyone happy. What a revelation, and he didn’t even seem embarrassed by the admission. His honesty struck at her defenses more surely than anything else he could have done.

She peeked at him once more—he was still smiling, wow—before she lost her nerve. “I’m glad you’re happy.”

“So am I, Angel. It’s a feeling that has alluded me for some time now.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” The warmth in his eyes was too much. Her stomach twirled. She blinked and brought her gaze to the fireplace again. “How did you know which bedroom I’d choose?”

He waited to speak until she brought her eyes back to his. “It just felt like you.”

Damn, now he was casting his own spell on her with sweet considerations like that. How many of the guys she’d dated over the years would be able to accurately determine what kind of details she’d love in her most private sanctuary?

Zilch, baby. Yet Nate had done so effortlessly. He was obviously much more observant than she’d given him credit for.

He walked her to the door that led to the hallway. “Come. The criminal will be dealt with, but in the mean time, I hope you’re hungry.” His smile was as innocent as it was likely to get on such a sexy specimen.

“I need to make a quick call. Can I borrow your phone?”

Nate narrowed his eyes. “Yours should work. I don’t know why you were having trouble earlier.” He kissed the undersides of her wrists, then slipped from the room.

Ten minutes later, Jessie realized her call to Emily had been a mistake. She’d meant to act like everything was normal, but her best friend had not only given her the third degree for leaving such a vague text earlier, but she’d also coerced Jessie into divulging the whole story of Nate’s salacious proposal.

The good news was, it was a phone conversation so Jessie had been able to hang up on Emily’s rant about women who were too stupid to live.

The bad news? Jessie had texted Nate’s address to Emily when she’d first arrived.

Knowing Emily, she’d be here within the hour.

Outstanding. Jessie tossed her phone on the bed, rubbed her face with both hands, then made her way downstairs, barely able to appreciate the home’s lavish architecture and woodwork.

Breathe. What she needed to do was take control of the situation like she’d started to do in the bedroom. After they had sex for the first time, things wouldn’t be so terribly awkward, and this unraveled feeling in her gut would go away.

She followed her nose to the inviting scents emanating from the kitchen. If she were the cooking kind, this would definitely be a dream setup with the long center island that somehow looked classy, efficient, and homey at the same time. But what really held her attention was the man standing next to it. His back was to her, his dark hair curling over the edge of his collar. Those wide shoulders would be the perfect anchor as he loved her long and hard.

Whoa. Loved?

She wiped a hand across her brow. Funny how terminology could make a girl so nervous. Then again, she had a thing for words. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

He laid his santoku knife on the marble counter top and turned to her. “Get this over with?”

A shaky smile curled her lips. “The first time is bound to be embarrassing because of this whole…” she waved her hand in the air, “transaction.”

“Embarrassing, huh?” He poured two glasses of champagne and advanced on her. “Transaction?”

She took a step back. “Is there an echo in here?” Decadence had a smell. Him. She dug deep for her JBlaze persona. “That’s what this is, you know. Why not call a spade a spade. Or maybe a ho a ho since I’m having sex with you for money.” God, please don’t ever let Gramma and Grandpa find out.

He stilled, one brow lifting slightly. “I don’t ever—and I mean ever—want to know about the men you’ve brought to your bed, Jessie, but by God, they’ve all been doing it wrong if you think making love is a shameful business. Bloody hell, that pisses me off.”

So much in his eyes.

He looked provoked. Unpredictable, too. Funny thing was, she didn’t feel scared any more. Well, not scared-scared.

More like alert.

Edgy.

“How do you see it then?” she asked.

He handed her one of the champagne flutes, then toasted her. “Naturalia non sunt turpia. What is natural is not dirty.”

She had to admit, she rather liked that adage. The swoon-worthy foreign language bit, too. The tang of the bubbly liquid exploded on her tongue as she took a deep draught. He watched her swallow and somehow it made her bold. “Latin is a dead language, you know. You sure you’re not a closet lawyer, botanist, or doctor?”

“I only play them on TV,” he drawled.

“How about priest?”

His smile was truly wicked. “Oh, baby, I’d never qualify. I need lots of redeeming.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“That’s a long, sad tale best saved for never.” His eyes grew hooded. “What we’re doing here is taking care of our needs. Yours happens to be financial security. Mine is my immoderate desire for you.”

Her breath stalled. That sounded kind of creepy. But then she was probably letting her conversation about Satanic paraphernalia with Mason influence her.

“Do you know why I insisted you come here tonight?”

“Because you’re an imperious Cro-Magnon?” she retorted.

His amusement flowed around her. “More high brow words. I fancy that. Truly.”

She watched his swarthy throat as he downed his champagne. She wet her lips, trying not to think about why watching him drink—his lips in contact with the light-reflecting crystal—should be so absurdly arousing. “Okay, I’ll play along. Why do you want me here tonight?”

“Because you think too much.”

“Afraid I’d come to my senses?” She hiccupped a laugh. “Well, surprise! Guess that hasn’t happened yet.” She drank the last of her champagne, too. He grabbed her around the waist to hoist her onto the counter top. “Sure you want me up here? This doesn’t seem right.” She had no doubt the ten feet of marble cost more than her car.

“Hmm, I see what you mean.” He swiveled away to grab something out of the widest refrigerator she’d ever seen. Before she could protest, he’d hoisted her ass and hiked the hem of her red dress to her groin. He held a bottle of chocolate syrup aloft and drizzled the sweet brown liquid over her legs like she was a damn brownie.

Drizzled with intent. Deliberate and meticulous.

When he was done, his gaze lifted to hers. His eyes flashed blue-black flames. “Much better.”

The sensation of the cool marble against her thighs and the wet syrup oozing down her overheated skin was impossibly erotic. She closed her eyes, feeling light-headed. Her fingers curled around the edge of the counter as she tried not to sway. She didn’t appreciate feeling out of control like this. Girls in this condition were frequently taken advantage of. How many times had she seen it over the years? How many times had she hailed security to call a cab and then sent the girl home on her own dime?

Oh, wow, she felt relaxed though.

And Nate looked good enough to eat. The way his gaze was telling her he was gonna—

No.

There was no way she could have sex in here. No way. The lights were too bright, and if she was sitting upright like this he’d see her belly pooch out all over the place. She needed to be lying down, maybe with her legs cocked at a forty-five degree angle—

“W-what are you doing?” She gasped when he leaned down, his tongue following the trail of chocolate up her thighs.

He spread her legs to move in closer. “I’ll buy you a new dress. A wardrobe full of them.” His hoarse voice made her nipples contract. Or was it from his fingers curling into the fleshy part of her upper ass? So many sensations at once she couldn’t keep track.

He sucked on the inside of her thigh, his thumb stroking her lacy black thong, gently at first until she shivered and opened her legs wider, trying not to be too obvious about it.

“That’s it. No need for inhibitions when you’re with me.” He proceeded to give her a panty-melting thigh hickey before moving north to press an open mouthed kiss against the lace. Her hips relaxed. A moan rolled out of her throat before she could stop it. Her head lolled back, one hand propped behind her on the counter, the other in his hair.

Moments later he tugged her dress upward, exposing more of her body. “Ah, wait, I don’t think…” Her words muffled as her arms drew upward when he slipped the garment over her head.

Now she was down to her bra and thong, desperately trying not to fold her arms across her body. She peeked at him from beneath her eyelashes, shivering when he sucked in a breath, his gaze fevered as it devoured her.

He didn’t appear disgusted. Still, she leaned back on her elbows to smooth out her belly, trying not to look like she was sucking it in. If he’d just continue his sensual assault instead of stopping all the time this would be so much easier. She could stay in the moment instead of—

“Get out of your head, woman. You make my mouth water.”

He trailed a finger across her sticky thighs before leaning over to pour her another glass of champagne. She took it even though Emily’s words about foolish women seared through her gray matter.

Maybe this glass would shut it all off. The insecurity about her body. The guilt that she was agreeing to get paid for sex. The anxiety about not really knowing who this guy was.

But until this second glass of bubbly worked its magic, she had to at least make an effort to be disciplined and logical. Because that’s what lawyer-types were supposed to do. Right? “Just so you know, I’m not keen on having intercourse right here.”

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes positively twinkling. Oh, he was handsome.

And he got points for not smiling this time.

“How about cunnilingus?”

She sputtered and very carefully set her glass down. “Why do you always stop—” she waved a hand down her body a little wildly, “what you’ve started? It’s not normal.”

He inched forward to lick the champagne sliding into her cleavage. “Why do you always have to think things to death?” he asked.

“Because it’s who I am. If you don’t like it—”

He hooked an arm around her back to scoot her toward the counter’s edge, wringing a gasp from her as her southern bits crashed into his. “I like everything about you. Even the parts that make me crazy. That good enough reasoning for you, Socrates?”

I want it to be. She rested her forearms on top of his shoulders. “I love your accent. Say Socrates again.”

“Socrates. Socrates. Socratesss.” He whispered the last utterance so slowly and fervently it could have been the most intimate secret in the world. His gaze smiled into hers while firm proof of his desire pressed hotly against the wispy material of her thong. Geez, that was nice.

His eyes were totally asking questions.

She threaded her fingers through his hair and felt the tension go out of him as she closed the short distance between them to lay her lips against his. He took control from there, his tongue sweeping through her mouth for long hazy moments until his teeth nipped at the corners of her lips. She was beyond ready for third base when he eased back and walked to the refrigerator.

“You like fruit, Jessie?”

“Did you really just walk away from me again?” Her head was fuzzy, her groin was burning, and after an incinerating kiss like that, if he was going to talk about food she was gonna slay him with his overpriced Japanese knife.

And she’d make it messy.

Messy like the tray of juicy things he returned with. Strawberries, pomegranate arils, frozen grapes. And honey.

She tried not to squirm as he eased her bra straps down and squeezed a line of gooey honey across the tops of her breasts. The honey clung to her skin briefly before trickling down her favorite underwire bra that was working overtime.

“You can’t imagine how I’ve dreamed of this.” He leaned down to plant open-mouthed kisses on her skin, lapping up the sweet syrup like he was a starving man.

She decided then and there that she loved honey. And bees. “I like bees,” she murmured.

He pulled his head out of her cleavage, bracketed his hands on the counter on either side of her hips, and gave her a very satisfied smirk. “I’m glad, Angel.”

Then he was kissing her belly, and she gave up trying to suck it in because she was eating the juiciest strawberries she’d ever tasted. He worked his way across her pelvic bone to nuzzle the ruffled edge of her thong.

The man was a god with his mouth and hands. “You are uncommonly good at, ahhh…that.”

The reverb of his low masculine chuckle at her groin made her head fall back with a throaty moan. Hells yes, throaty.

“I like throaty, too. Good word, that,” she whispered.

“Indeed.”

He voiced ‘lights, low,’ and the kitchen dimmed. Nice. She was about to tell him he should’ve done that sooner, but he placed a frozen grape in his mouth and promptly kissed her. When she wrapped her arms around his neck, he slipped the icy fruit between her lips. She shivered before her muscles went supple as a full-tilt, pleasantly buzzed sensation flooded through her.

Everything about this man was erotic. From the way he moved, to the way he talked, dressed, and pinned her with his hungry gaze like he was gonna devour her. “I’m so relaxed, Nate.”

The man actually growled. A giggle burst from her lips. Seriously, what the hell? She wasn’t the giggling sort.

He kissed the corners of her lips. “It’s the champagne. The vintage is decadent, is it not? But that’s enough for now. I want you lucid.”

His mouth trailed down to where her pulse beat at the base of her neck. He nipped at her the moment her teeth pierced the tender flesh of the grape. She almost came from the multiple sensations he was evoking with his busy mouth and gentle-then-rough hands.

“Decadent. Lucid.” She molded the words with her lips and tongue, enjoying the slow slide of vowels and consonants. “Have I ever told you how much I love words? Like, I really love them. The way they flow over my tongue. Even vulgar words sound beautiful when you say them.” She grabbed his face and brought his head up. “You are beautiful, Nate.”

He stared at her, his expression suddenly guarded. She thought he was going to walk away from her again, but he finally said, “I was planning to use a blindfold this evening, but we’ll save it for another time. Tonight I want you to feel the full weight of my desire when I look at you.”

She reminded herself to breathe as he pulled something from the cabinets, then spread a folded tablecloth across the counter. Her heart revved as he eased her back. She gazed at the dimmed light fixture above her, the row of faux candles aglow, suspended on an iron rack. Her abs contracted when Nate sprinkled pomegranate arils on her belly, the ripe red seeds cool on her flushed skin. “Can I use the blindfold on you as well?”

“Oh, Jessie.” His hands flexed on her thighs momentarily before he turned away to grab something behind him.

She leaned up on her elbows. “Please don’t make me wait any longer.”

Nate moved toward her. The closer he came, the darker his eyes appeared. One of the appliances—the fridge?—stopped humming, the sound replaced by her heartbeat. “Do you hear that?” she whispered.

“What?” He plucked a strawberry from the tray and rubbed it across her parted lips.

She took a bite, chewed, then swallowed while he watched her. “My heart.”

“I do.” His response was like a spell. Dark and secret.

She wanted to call his bluff, but her mouth was parched. He smiled mysteriously. To stop herself from looking like a lovelorn fool, she reached for another strawberry. He leaned down to scoop her into his arms, but she shook her head. “No, here.”

“What?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with all the fervor he’d stoked in her during the last six weeks. “Here.” She needed to do this for herself. Prove to herself that she could be free.

Daring.

Prove to herself that JBlaze was truly part of her. Not merely some false persona she’d built to protect her thin skin and bruisable heart. Prove that it was okay to be contradictory. That it was fine to express all the pieces of herself. She didn’t need to be her mother. She could be both Jessie Blaze, attorney at law, and, JBlaze, woman who enjoys sex on countertops and takes care of her family no matter what.

He eased her back against the tablecloth and placed her bare feet on his upper pecs. She brought her arms over her head to grab the outer edge of the counter behind her as he hooked his thumbs under her thong to slowly slide it off, his palms cupping her legs all the way down.

She thought he’d watch what was being revealed. Instead his gaze remained on hers, pulsing with an otherworldly glow. Somehow it made her feel more vulnerable than if he’d been ogling her nakedness.

She tilted her chin to break eye contact because even though the lights were low, it was too much. Clad now in nothing but her bra, she trembled as he skimmed his fingernails up her calves, then thighs, before sinking to his knees. He scooted her ass to the edge of the counter, placed her feet on his shoulders and nuzzled her legs with his cheeks, his lips, his tongue as he drifted toward her pelvis. Her skin arced with electricity. His hands found her, parted her, his mouth blowing wonderfully cool air against her sex before letting his tongue slay her with a visceral kiss.

She sucked in a breath, fighting the super-ego part of her Jessica-brain that said she shouldn’t let him do this to her. That it was indecent. He had his mouth on her bits. On the kitchen counter!

“Let go, Jessie.”

Can’t, goddammit. She rose to her elbows again.

And saw him.

His dark head between her legs, deep blue eyes burning into hers. His fingertips bore down on her thighs, pushing them apart for his pleasure. Her pleasure. It made something lush and full and hot and wanton flush through her, taking with it that damned repressive super-ego.

Taking with it self-consciousness.

She gasped. Her eyes closed as she lay back down, her head twisting the tablecloth as a guttural moan spilled from her lips.

“Jessie, yes.” His hot breath shuddered against her sex.

The arches of her feet ground into his shoulders, her knees dropping open further. She charged toward a cliff at a heart-stopping rate. Her back arched as the orgasm erupted. Her chest rose and fell, expanded and emptied, as she rode the sensation through its aching reward.

“Look at me, Jess.”

He was on his knees yet, watching her aftershocks with hunger and something she’d never seen in the eyes of a lover.

Possession.

She eased up to sit, and still he watched her with that quiet concentration. She reached for him to pull him to his feet. Her fingers trembled as she unbuttoned his silk shirt. It felt even better than it looked.

“I hope you don’t mind.” She smiled softly. His eyes were so dark, his thick black hair disheveled from her rapacious hands.

“I’m all yours.”

She’d never actually seen him with his shirt off. She’d imagined it dozens of times, but seeing him, touching his perfect, warm flesh was undeniably satisfying as she pushed the expensive material down one shoulder. Even in the dim light, she could tell that the flaming skull tattoo on his deltoid was incredible. She ran her fingertips over the heavy lines of gray ink. “It’s very compelling. What does it mean?”

“It’s a reminder,” he replied quietly.

“For?” He didn’t answer for a moment. Her gaze lifted from the lovely ink to find his.

“Doing the right thing.”

He didn’t seem to be joking.

But he was a ruthless businessman who took advantage of people’s weaknesses. How was that doing the right thing?

Her gaze dropped, and he stiffened. Her fingers skimmed over his chest, down to his belly where—

“Oh.”

Oh, my God.

Below his belly button, an atrocious scar ran parallel from hip to hip in a jagged line that looked like it hadn’t been properly stitched by a doctor. She ran her fingers gently over the raised skin that was at least two shades darker than the rest of him. She shook her head. He must have suffered horrifically to have sustained such a traumatic wound. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “How did you even survive?”

He touched her lips with the pad of his thumb. “Sometimes all you can do is fight your way to another sunrise.”

It wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy her hunger to know him. But she didn’t want to push too far for fear he’d close down. She eased off the counter and sank down to press her lips to the scar, but he captured her chin and brought her up for another kiss. Then he slipped his shirt the rest of the way off his arms and laid it over her shoulders in an extended, sensual caress before unhooking her bra and slipping her arms into the shirt.

Standing there in his unbuttoned shirt, why didn’t she feel self-conscious anymore? The scar across his lower belly obviously bothered him on some level. She yearned to assure him that everyone had scars. Some were more visible than others, but the worst ones were usually on the inside.

She felt closer to him, and the feeling was reflected in his eyes.

She wanted so badly to trust that look.

Any woman could fall for a guy like him. She’d had her heart broken a few times, but this situation was completely off-the-charts.

“The way your emotions run across your face, Jessica, I implore you to never play poker.” Nate sat her on the counter again and moved between her legs. “Unless, of course, it’s strip poker with me.”

She smiled as he went to work on his pants, never breaking eye contact. Her breath hitched. He was commando. Of course he is.

He was hard, thick, and weeping from the fine slit on his broad head. It made her feel dirty in the most shockingly liberating way. He pulled a condom from his back pocket and held it up with an arrogant smirk. She took it from him, her hands surprisingly steady as she rolled it down his length. Then their bodies melded, his erection grazing the hood of her sex, back and forth, making her sigh and wrap her arms around his neck.

“Touch your breasts for me, Jess.” His command oozed from his vocal chords. The veins in his neck and forearms stood out, the blood pumping through his body on overdrive. She ran her hands up her sides slowly, feeling humid, a lovely languid sensation turning her bones to putty.

When her hands finally cupped the undersides of her breasts and brought them together, he jerked against her. With a deep groan, he slid into her, and it was full and tight and beautiful, and the pressure was nearly more than she could bear.

Her hands went behind her to brace against the counter as he grabbed beneath her knees to support her legs. His powerful thrusts rocked and bounced her heavy breasts. His face was tight and wonderfully fierce, his gaze so intense as he watched her eyes, her breasts, and where their bodies joined. His skin was several shades lighter than hers as his body fed hers, building a fire.

“Like that?” He ground his pelvis against her, and she opened her mouth, releasing sounds of her pleasure—how much he was making her feel—let it out, her throat moving with her vocalizations. Feeling alive, feeling alive, and glittery and…

Unfettered.

“I like those sounds.” Sweat rolled between his pecs, and his biceps bulged. “Give me some of your pretty words, too.”

His smile was all sorts of…. “Recondite, avaricious, rapaciousss… ” she gasped. She danced on the top of the flames now. Her buttocks clenched, her hips driving forward to receive his thrusts.

“Your brain is a bloody wonder.” He slid all the way out, rubbed his tip over her swollen clitoris, then drove back home. She moaned, her head arching back, thrusting her breasts toward him.

“Open those luscious lips and tell me what you want.”

“Don’t want it to end.” She closed her eyes because that wasn’t supposed to come out.

“Look at me.”

She shook her head, but opened her eyes anyway because…his voice. It made her weak and stupid.

His focused eyes seared away the last of her inhibitions, his jaw tight as his body continued its passionate onslaught. “Stay with me, Jess.”

She was riding the edge of that dark, secret place filled with stars. He ran his hands down her calves, clamping them around his waist. Then he shoved one hand into her hair and pulled her body forward with the other, crushing her breasts to his chest. His mouth fastened to hers. His body shook as it slowed. She made a sound of protest until his erection slicked across her clitoris, then entered her again. She wrapped her arms around him and gave herself to the magic they were making.

Yes, magic.

Her vision went black for one timeless moment before she shattered with a rasping cry. Her fingernails scored his back, and he tensed suddenly as his own release claimed him.

It was the most quietly ferocious orgasm she’d ever witnessed. Clenched jaw, searing eyes, all those chiseled muscles on lock down.

Like he was dying and being reborn.

On mute.

She slid her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, bringing his face to where her pulse beat wildly at her throat, hungry to absorb the tremors that tore through him so potently. She’d given him this, brought him to this, so it was hers, too.

Afterward, neither of them spoke as he cleaned their bodies and pulled up his slacks. But their eyes caught and held by the dim light. Then he turned off the oven and took her hand to lead her downstairs to a small media room where a massive TV screen dominated an entire wall. She sensed an unusual energy whirring through him, but she was still so overcome—so raw—by what they’d shared, to talk about it would diminish what had happened between them.

But she would talk about it. Later.

Nate stopped in front of a large leather chair to wrap her in a plush blanket. Then he sat in the center of the chair and pulled her down across his lap. Jessie turned her face to his warm neck, placing her lips softly on his skin. Sex with this man was a cleansing.

Or, given the look on his face at climax, a rebirth.

For both of them.

And probably impossible to get over.