Carter let her take the lead, watching her, waiting for her to set the pace. She placed her hand over his chest, her thumb stroking across the material of the shirt, before her fingers moved to the buttons. One by one, she slipped them free, revealing his chest inch by inch. The backs of her fingers brushed against his bare skin and it was such a simple touch, innocent, really, it shouldn’t have set him on fire like it did.

But she had him so on edge, every breath he took felt hot and heavy, weighted with desire, with anticipation. And he’d been thinking and dreaming and denying this for weeks now. Now he could finally have her. But it had to be on her terms, too.

She slipped the last button on his shirt free, and then her hands—those long, elegant fingers—pushed the sides open and off his shoulders. He shrugged free of the material and she took his hand, bringing it to rest against her heart, the curve of her breast warm and sloping against his palm, swelling against that sweet white lace of her bra.

With his other hand, he stroked a thumb along her lush lower lip, and she nibbled on the pad of it teasingly, making him laugh and dip forward, their lips finally meeting.

That kiss was like combustion. Like every nerve ending in his body was designed for the moment he leaned up and kissed her in that tiny groundskeeper’s cottage. He cradled the back of her head—her hair was wet and tangled, and he was pretty sure there were leaves in it—tilting her head back to deepen their kiss, her own hands clutching his shoulders, her legs parting so he could crowd close to her. His hands cupped her ass—God, that ass. Round and ripe like a peach, he wanted to take a bite out of it. He wanted to spank her playfully until she was pink and panting, wriggling in his lap, slick and swollen between her legs and needing his touch.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, and that was it, he surged upward, holding her tight as he grabbed a condom out of the cabinet and carried her out of the bathroom. He’d intended to take her into the bedroom, but she was grinding down on his cock like she could fuck him through the layers of denim, and it was so damn hot he had to press her up against the cabin wall, his mouth sealing over hers

When he leaned back to take her in, he was breathing hard. Her hair was a glorious mess, red painting her cheekbones, her lower lip between her teeth.

She was so fucking beautiful, and he told her so, his voice like gravel as he hooked his fingers in her panties and ripped the side hem. She let out a little gasp at the movement, and then he felt her get even wetter where her pussy was pressed against his cock.

Fuck. So she liked that, huh?

He hooked his finger on the other side of those sweet cotton boyshorts, tearing the seam apart. He could feel how hot her pussy was getting, and when he dipped his fingers inside to push the remaining scraps of material away, he groaned at how his fingers slicked across her soft, wet flesh.

“Baby, you get so wet,” he said, tossing the destroyed panties to the side. She let out a whimper as he explored her, his fingers skating across that sensitive little nub that made her twist, her thighs tightening around his hips.

Slowly, deliberately, he withdrew his fingers from her clit, bringing them up to his mouth. With his gaze never leaving hers, he licked her wetness from his fingertips and her head thunked against the door, her eyes fluttering shut, like it was too much to take.

He hoisted her up as if she weighed nothing, using his other hand to get rid of his pants and boxers. His cock sprang free, and when her fingers wrapped around him, he had to press her hard against the door, worried he might drop her, because it felt so fucking good to have her hands on him. She plucked the condom from his hands, rolling it down on his cock with those clever-as-hell fingers, stroking his cock like they belonged there.

When he slid into her, she was so fucking wet he could hear it, and it was so hot, so dirty, and she was so slick, it took everything inside him not to thrust once, twice, and spill messily into the perfect grip of her cunt.

God, this was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. His fingers flexed on her hips as she ground down on his cock, her eyes wide and glassy, like she’d been transported to another place just by the stroke of his cock in her pussy. He groaned, fucking into her harder at the thought, feeling her clench around him so hard he saw stars.

“Fuck, Carter,” she moaned. “You’re so… it’s so… oh God, fuck me.”

He had no choice but to obey. He thrust up, at an angle he knew was hitting that sweet little spot inside her that made her nails dig into his shoulders. He felt wildly out of control, on edge as he drove into her slick, grasping heat. He could feel her flutter around him, like a mini-orgasm that made her breath quicken and her nails carve half moons into the muscle of his arm. He knew she was so close, and his hand dropped between them. Instead of rubbing at her clit in circles, he pressed a finger on either side of it, slowly rocking the little bundle of nerves back and forth.

“Ohmygodcarterthatfeels…” Her body shook around him and she went rigid in his arms, her orgasm ripping through her, rippling around his cock, and he had no choice but to chase after her, thrusting once, messily, desperate into that pulsing heat, before coming so hard his knees almost buckled.

* * *

“I guess we’re stuck here until the storm clears,” Carter said, peering out the window as darkness fell. He got back in the bed, pulling one of the old quilts he’d found in a chest over them. Maddy was burrowed in a pile of them next to him—she was not the kind of person who ran hot—and as soon as he was close, she latched onto him, shivering a little.

“Here, take my shirt,” he said, pulling it off and handing it to her. She put it on, and he couldn’t help but think that the only thing better than her bare skin was her clad in just his t-shirt and nothing else. Fuck, it was sexy just to think of the hem of that shirt skimming her ass.

“Thanks,” she said. Her eyes fell to the tattoo exposed on his hip now that he was shirtless.

“So, this tattoo,” she tapped the ink on his hip. “What does it mean?”

He chuckled, the kind of laugh that spoke of reckless nights and too much drinking. “It’s the chemistry of love,” he explained. “The neurochemicals that make it up.” He took her hand, guiding her fingers the first three in the black-and-white chemical formula inked on his hip. “Phenylethylamine, norepinephrine, and dopamine,” he said, liking how soft her fingers were against his skin. Tattooed skin was always a little more sensitive, and he liked her hands all over him. “Those are the neurochemicals of attraction. Those first sparks of attraction you feel. Like when a beautiful woman in a blue suede shoes walks into your office for an interview.”

She smiled, her eyes sweeping down, still a little shy, even after everything. “You were that distracted, huh?” she asked. “I didn’t notice.”

“I was very distracted. I’m glad I didn’t come off that way, but your legs in that dress…”

“I’ll wear it next week at the office,” she said teasingly. Her fingers moved to the next two formulas on his hips. “And what are these?”

“Oxytocin and serotonin,” he said. “The chemicals of lasting love.”

“That’s a lot of love,” Maddy said.

“I like to think that’s something my work’s about,” he said. “Plus, the tattoo itself. It was kind of done on a bet,” he confessed.

A smile played across her face. “Let me guess,” she said. “That bet involved Nat?”

His eyebrows drew together. “How did you know that?”

She bit her lip and his eyes dragged to the spot she was worrying, wishing he could bite down on it, too. “I… may have been the victim of a similar bet with Nat. With similar results. During a very crazy weekend in Vegas. Though to my credit, the bet was for matching tattoos. So Nat has one, too.”

He frowned, his eyes raking over her body. God, she was a fucking work of art. Those curves, she was built like a pin-up girl from the fifties, all lush hips and ass. But he didn’t see any tattoo.

Her smile grew wider as he looked her over, his confusion growing.

“Can’t find it?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Where is it?”

She leaned forward, her dark hair spilling forward, and a wave of grapefruit scented air floated around them. Was that her perfume or her shampoo, he wondered as she tilted her head, pushing back her earlobe to reveal a tiny little pink flower etched right behind her ear. It looked a little like a child’s drawing of a tulip. It was a perfect whimsical little touch to a unique and beautiful woman.

“A flower,” he said. “From?” She was the type to get a meaningful tattoo. Something that had a story behind it.

“A children’s book,” Maddy said. “There’s this series, George and Martha.”

“The hippos?” he asked, remembering Olivia’s collection of children’s books.

“Yes!” Maddy’s face broke out into a smile, a joyful thing. It was one of those moments, when you click with someone, you understand something that they love, without them having to ask. “Martha has a flower tucked behind her ear in most of the books. So, in first grade, that’s how Nat and I met. We fought over this book we both wanted at the book fair. There was only one copy left. It was called George and Martha: Two Great Friends.”

“That’s an incredibly ironic title considering the circumstances,” Carter said.

“Exactly,” Maddy said. “Anyway, our fight devolves into hair pulling. And Nat’s got a lot of hair to pull and back then, I had that bowl cut little girls had, so I had a lot less.”

God, she’d probably been adorable. He couldn’t wait to see pictures.

“We get sent to the principal. And we get detention for two weeks. But our mothers don’t let it go there, they decide we need to be friends, after such a terrible display. So they started setting up play dates.”

“How long did it take until you two were living in your very own special story, Maddy and Nat: Two Great Friends?” he asked.

“Four play-dates,” Maddy said.

“That’s great,” Carter said. “And it turned into a lifelong friendship.”

“Funny how life works out sometimes,” Maddy said. “Like right now. I would not have predicted being in this cabin with you a few weeks ago.”

“Any regrets?” he asked, half-dreading her answer.

She shook her head. “No regrets,” she said.

He leaned over, cupping the back of her head, drawing her closer, kissing her deep. He didn’t want to leave here. He didn’t want to face the world and the reality that he’d just crossed a line he shouldn’t have.

But, God, it had been worth it. This woman… she was unlike anyone he’d ever met. He’d wanted her more than anyone he’d ever encountered. And the last few hours…fuck, they’d been mind-blowing. Inspiring.

He was torn between wanting to stay here and fuck her until she was screaming his name and the reality that he needed to dash to his lab and get back to work. All he could think about was that sound she’d made, how her pussy had gripped his cock, rippling around him like an endless wave of sensation. She’d been in another world, transported there by pleasure, by him.

God, Maddy coming was the hottest fucking thing he’d ever seen.

“Really, now?” she asked, eyebrow arched.

Oh shit. He’d said that last thing out loud.

“You’re so dirty,” she said, a catlike smile curling across her lips.

“I’m devoted,” he answered, dropping a kiss at the top of her belly button. His lips dragged up to the curve of her rib cage, making her arch. “To pleasing you.” His tongue darted out, a teasing swipe on the delicate side of her breast. She gasped, her nipples puckering. “To making you come.” His words were a whisper of breath against the tight bud of her nipple, before his mouth closed over it.

God, he wanted to give her everything. And he was going to start right now.