His headlights cut through the deep blackness of their neighborhood. At two in the morning there was barely a light on. The streetlamps were on sensors, clicking on as they drove past the stone sign for Oakwood Gardens, like a halogen arrow leading them home.

He parked his truck on his side of the driveway. Darcy pulled in after him, her coupe silent on the recently sealed blacktop. He stepped down, his work boots crunching on the frosted lawn. His breath curled in front of him, a wispy specter of heat on the cold night.

The little tree was a spotlight, a mini-me to the tree they’d worked on all night. Twin spheres of light above each of their doors was a final bit of welcome. The winter white of her coat emphasized the paleness of her cheeks. Her fair hair that wouldn’t stay in its bonds made his fingertips itch to get into all of that silk. But it was the dark watchfulness of her eyes that was his undoing. They didn’t rush. Instead, they climbed the stairs together. Her pinkie brushed his forefinger, but that was their only contact.

He dug out his keys and opened the door, backing his way in. She passed him, the whisper of wool brushing against his own peacoat. He shut the door and followed, clicking on a light. Then he tossed his coat on a chair, curling his fingers into his palms. He was as eager as a teenager, for fuck’s sake.

His hands shook a little as he came up behind her and smoothed his fingertips over the wool covering her shoulders. Her bag thudded to the floor. His knuckles grazed along her neck, the corn-silk softness of her hair tickling his wrists as he slowly drew her coat down her arms.

She looked over her shoulder, the dim light making her skin seem impossibly fragile. The freckles dusting her skin were even more pronounced. He placed her coat over the arm of the couch that bisected the room then came up behind her again. The curve of her bottom fit against his hips, her shoulders rested against his chest and the back of her neck slid into place along his. He circled her hips, his fingers tightening on the belt loops of her jeans as he finally took his first taste of her in his space.

He nosed his way along the endless line of her neck, trailing a soft kiss up to her ear. “This is what you want?”

She nodded. A small quake vibrated through her and into his chest. He twisted the denim and breathed through the urge to take. He wanted more than just clawing needs and recriminations in the morning. He’d had lifetimes of that. This woman was more than mistakes and misdeeds.

He smoothed his palm over her midriff, lifting her shirt until he found skin. She covered his hand with her own, bringing him up to cup her breast. The simple cotton burned under his palm. Or was it the bead of her nipple against the heel of his hand? She slowly swayed against him. The curve of her bottom brushed against his jeans and a little hiccupping sigh melted into him.

With his other hand he dipped down over her jeans and guided her closer. The tips of his fingers hovered over the seam of her jeans, his palm cupping and squeezing her breast as he kissed her neck. She heated under his touch like a slow candle flame that could, and probably would, burn him alive.

Tucking into the natural curve of her, he hardened against the cleft of her bottom. He unzipped her jeans, all the while teasing one nipple, then the other, through the lightweight cotton. His tugs grew sharper with each bite of her nails into his wrist as she clung to his forearm.

He drew the fleshy lobe of her ear between his teeth, the wild ocean scent of her strongest behind her ears. Her hair was full of the clean scent. It seemed fitting since the damn ocean seemed to be roaring between his ears. He dipped his fingers down into her jeans, finding more cotton and then soft, slick flesh. He groaned against her neck and pushed lower.

She rolled her head against his collarbone, her hips jerking under his touch. He held her tighter. His dick was near strangled in his jeans, but he wouldn’t stop even if his damn house was on fire. No, her house was on fire. His rhythm stuttered for a moment and he put that thought out of his mind, concentrating on her pleasure, on feeding the hunger within him into her. He wanted to hear her cry out his name. Wanted to know it was him that made her feel like this and not just a willing body.

He loved that he could bring out her laughter and her passion. He hooked the tips of two fingers deeper. Slick with her excitement, he pressed harder until the friction of his fingers made her gasp and twist against him. Her nails scraped down his arm, through the hair. “You feel so good. Hot and wet.”

She whimpered and the shudder that racked her made him ache to be inside her. To feel that clench around him. She drew her other hand up to his hair and held him tighter to her even as they both bowed under the strength of her release.

“That’s it, darlin’. Let go. God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

And she was. Sweet and so goddamn responsive. She twisted in his arms, wrapping around him as she buried her face in his neck. He gripped her hips, banding his forearms around her waist. Stunned, he held her firm. “Hey, it’s okay.”

She shook her head and the sniffle of emotion surprised him. “I’m sorry.”

He buried his hands in her hair and pressed her cheek to his chest. “Don’t be sorry. You’re beautiful. That was beautiful.”

“I feel stupid.”

He leaned back, drawing her chin up. The wetness on her cheeks humbled him. This woman was so wrapped into herself, so tightly controlled, hadn’t she ever just let go? “Don’t. You’re anything but stupid.” He leaned down, pressing his mouth to hers. “Come upstairs with me.”

She ducked her head, then lifted her gaze to his and nodded.

With linked fingers they climbed the steps. At the top, she pulled to the left but he shook his head. “This way.” He drew her down the dark hallway. A tiny LED nightlight glowed from his bathroom. When he flicked the light switch inside his bedroom door, a small desk lamp lit the corner, leaving them in muted shadow. He stopped in the middle of the room, his king-sized bed at her back. He pushed her hair over her shoulder and followed the curving line of her t-shirt that dipped just below her clavicle. He trailed the tips of his fingers over her curves until he found the bottom of her shirt and lifted it.

She raised her arms, goose bumps flooding down and her nipples tightening against the smooth cotton of her simple white bra. He reached behind her, carefully unhooking it, and drew the straps down. Trying to take things slow, he took a deep breath. Her nipples were a few shades darker than the freckles that dusted her entire upper half. He cupped the pale weight of her breasts, brushing his thumbs lightly over her tight peaks.

Her eyes fluttered shut and her lips parted as he plucked the tips.

Going slow might just kill him.

But he was more than willing to throw himself into the fray if it extended the night.

He trailed lightly over her ribs and dragged her in, lifting her into his arms. She gasped and grabbed hold of his shoulders, hooking her ankles at his back.

He latched his mouth to her throat and a low groan escaped. “You have the longest goddamn legs. I’m going to lay you out and taste every inch before tonight is over.”

She slipped her hands into his hair and drew his mouth to hers. The kiss was hot and anything but slow. He tumbled them onto his bed. Her quick laugh made his dick even harder as she propped herself up on her elbows and looked at him.

He knelt between her thighs. “What?”

“I did not expect to do this tonight.” She tugged at his shirt until it came up over his head. He smiled down at her. Pale hair tumbled over his midnight-colored sheets. She smoothed her palm over his shoulders, down his arm that wasn’t inked and pulled his hand up to her face. Peach-soft skin filled his palm, demanding patience where he wanted only to take. She explored her way down his other arm, smoothing the pad of her thumb over the flames that exploded around his shoulder and down to the flashpoint where the tree sat, then down the serpentine body of the dragon that hugged his forearm. The tip of her nail traced the dragon tail that circled his wrist, the point accentuating the Chinese character that bloomed over the inside of his wrist in a deep red.

“What does this mean?”

“Hope.”

She looked up at him and drew her hands up to cup his face, pulling him down on top of her. The first contact of his skin to hers was so good he hissed out a groan. The tips of her breasts burned into his skin. She opened her legs, cradling him into her. He dug his knuckles into the mattress and lifted himself over her, undulating his hips against where his body wanted to go most.

She gripped his back, her fingertips tightening on his lower spine to draw him closer. Her deep green eyes were wide and so fucking innocent it made his chest ache. She trailed her nails around his belly. The tickle had him arching over her.

Then she levered herself up and flipped him, straddling his thighs with a wide smile. Her long, graceful fingers went to his belt. “The slow thing? Maybe when I’m not so wound up I could scream I’d appreciate it. But right now?” She flicked her tongue around his navel. “Can’t wait.”

His cock was pulsing with each pull of her fingers at his fly. His belly tightened as her cool fingers slid under the band of his boxers. He lifted his hips, groaning as she reached around and dragged his jeans and boxers down over his ass. She crawled backward and the tip of his cock grazed her cheek.

Fuck.

He was the one on his elbows now, staring down at her. The mass of her silky straight hair slid over her shoulder and tickled his thighs. “Christ, Darcy.”

Suddenly she turned around, straddling his thighs, facing his feet. She grinned over her shoulder. “Laces.”

He dropped back and threw an arm over his eyes. His cock was so fucking hard it pressed against his belly at an angle. He lifted his arm and peeked, groaning as her ass wiggled in her loosened jeans while she went at his double knots. He tried to move, tried to toe them off, but her hands braceleted his ankles.

“Patience.”

“Didn’t you just say you were done with the slow thing?”

“You playing it slow yes, me?” She flicked a smile at him. “I didn’t say anything about me taking my time.”

“I’m staring at your ass, and if you don’t finish with those laces I’m going to drag off your jeans and show you just why that position is a dangerous one.”

She rose onto her knees and he felt the coolness on his feet. He kicked off his jeans, slid his legs out from under her and gripped her hips. Instead of turning around, she pushed her jeans over her hips. “Why so dangerous, Ben?” The pink of her panties had a dark spot from how wet he’d gotten her downstairs. Trapped at her knees, her jeans wouldn’t go any farther unless she got off him. And that just wasn’t fucking happening.

He pushed aside the elastic leg and touched her. She gasped and stilled. Not enough, not nearly enough. He dragged her panties down and swore. Her pussy was wet and perfect and so goddamn tempting he wasn’t sure he could keep himself in check. The slope of her back, the dimples at each side, so many freckles he could spend a lifetime counting them.

“Darcy.”

She looked over her shoulder, her eyelids heavy and the green nearly obliterated by her pupils. Decision made, he reached back for his nightstand and found a condom. He slid his fingertips down her spine, ticking over each vertebra until her hips filled his palms. She arched under his touch, lifting herself to him.

* * *

Darcy’s thighs tingled and her breasts ached so much she had no choice but to cup them for relief. He tugged off her jeans. Never had she felt so overwhelmed within her own skin. It was as if he could reach inside her and manipulate every emotion, every trigger. And here, now—with herself on display for him—all she could concentrate on was him filling her. Filling her more than anyone else ever had.

She’d thought that this position would lessen the intimacy, break some of the stranglehold he seemed to have on her, but it was worse. So much worse. The heat of him behind her sucked the air out of her lungs. The rough hair of his thighs, the firm grip of his hands on her hips, the way he seemed to fill the room until all she could focus on was him.

She felt the blunt end of him against her.

Oh God.

He curled over her and slowly sank into her. Her thighs quaked and her wrists shook. He was everywhere. All around her and pushing out from within her. His arms curled around her belly and up to cup her breasts as he stayed there. So full she couldn’t take a breath. He tucked his chin into her neck and his shallow breaths matched her own as he slid out and back inside on a deep groan.

He stretched her up until only her knees supported her. She widened her stance and reached back for balance, gripping his neck, his hair—anything not to fall forward. Her back arched to accommodate the new position and keep him inside her. She felt displayed to the room. She opened her eyes and saw the mirror.

“Ben.”

His name was devoid of air. Instead her voice was only need. He was behind her, his dark eyes blazing with something she’d never seen before. She watched as his hands cupped her, tugging at her nipples lightly as he slowly pulsed inside her. Each thrust was shallow. As if he couldn’t bear to be away from her skin.

She lifted both arms over her head, his feathery soft hair sifting through her fingers. He invaded every one of her senses. Finally one hand traced down her ribs to the soft curve of her belly.

He scraped his teeth along her neck. The edge of his thumbnail rimmed her bellybutton. “I’m going to make it my mission in life to taste every freckle on your body.” His other hand lowered until both brushed the tops of her thighs and opened her even wider. She cried out.

It was too much.

The mirror angle wasn’t quite right to see everything, but she could certainly feel him stretching her, her walls grasping to hold him inside. Suddenly he surged up, filling her until she was sure her body would split in two with the pleasure.

His hands slid into the vee of her thighs, the sides of his fingers opening her swollen lips until he found her clit. Part of her wished she could see. Wanted to know just how they fit together. Anything that felt this amazing had to be beautiful.

But she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the mirror. She watched him watch them. And that made it all the more thrilling. They glided together again and again, the rhythm as enthralling as the way he stretched her.

“Darcy.” His eyebrows knitted together as his thrusts became sharper.

Off balance, she pitched forward and her hips lifted. The sweet, fluid thrusts were gone and she cried out as he slammed into her. Her shoulders sank into the bed as he surged into her again and again. The sweaty rasp of the hair of his thighs against her smooth ones, the grip of his fingers on her hips, the abrasion of her nipples against the comforter with each thrust—all of it coalesced into sensory overload.

His thrusts were long and deep and hard and it was wonderful. She’d never been taken so completely.

He reached around her, his fingertips digging into her belly then finally between her legs. She could feel how close he was. Taste it in the air she breathed in so greedily. No one had ever wanted her this way.

He pulled her leg out and they slid forward in a heap. He must have come, because he stopped thrusting and fell forward with his full weight on her. She hadn’t quite gotten there again, but that was fine. To be wanted like that was more than she’d ever had before.

But no, he pulled her leg out straight and rolled her to the left a little so she was pressing down on the knee tucked into her body. And then he was inside her again. The fullness multiplied. His long fingers slid down inside the seam where thigh met body and he rubbed tiny circles around her clit.

She sucked in all the air in the room. And it still wasn’t enough. Her body trembled as he kept the constant circular pressure. The safe warmth was gone, leaving her raging inside. She searched out for something to grab, anything to hold on to. Fisting the blankets, she pushed back against him. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she sobbed through the tearing release. His name was a keening cry ripped from her lungs.

His arms surrounded her, held her tight to his body as he drew her knee back up to match her other one. And still he didn’t slide from her body. Surely she’d flown apart. He was just putting her back together. But no, he curled around her and thrust slowly. Sweat slicked between him and she felt his deep groan through her back as he held himself tightly inside her.

They lay like that for a long time, her breathing finally slowing until it matched his.

“I’m sorry, I have to move before we have ourselves a little problem.”

She grinned into the mattress, laying her cheek against the cool comforter. She should probably stretch out, but she wanted to hold all of that inside her—hold it close inside the ball of bliss that she’d become.

There was a coolness against her back and the bed shifted. His weight was gone.

What was it about this man? This kind man with an equal measure of muscle and artistry that got inside her like no one else?

Had it really been only one day with him?

Gentle fingers coasted down her spine followed by a cool washcloth. “I thought you might like this.”

Moaning, she slowly uncurled with each stroke of the cloth. She rolled to her side, wincing with each stretching muscle. Twenty hours at the store and the best sex she’d ever had was enough to slam the lid on feeling self-conscious.

She turned herself around and crawled to the top of the bed. Her body ached deliciously and she wanted nothing more than to fall on her face for ten straight hours. She tucked her cheek into his pillow and blinked sleepily up at him.

She should go home. It wouldn’t be smart to stay. Things would get weird.

“Stay.”

Her lips curled into a smile. “Reading my mind?”

“I want to hold you tonight.” He leaned in, brushing a light kiss over her eyes, against her cheeks and finally her mouth. “Once isn’t going to be enough, Darcy.”

She opened her eyes. How the heck was she supposed to say no to that? She simply nodded.

“If you disappear in the morning, I’ll find you.”

The humming laugh surprised her. She should be annoyed at his directive, but she felt too good. “Because I’m so far away? That whole five hundred feet to my side of the house?”

His dark eyes were intense and for once humor was decidedly missing.

She propped herself up on her elbows. “I’m not going anywhere, Ben.” She leaned into him, catching his lips in a soft kiss. Instead of the gentle Ben she was growing used to, she got another taste of the intense one.

Like the kiss behind the tree, he cupped her face and swallowed all of her doubts. There was no way she could leave this man and the feelings that swirled between them.

He rolled her back onto the bed, tightening his arms around her until there was no space between them. The lightness and the fun dissolved under his hungry mouth. The bone-deep exhaustion churned into a compulsion that couldn’t be stopped.

This time there was no gentleness, no finesse, just a grappling urgency that they fed into each other. Soreness faded to the background as his lips coasted along her neck, across her shoulders and finally found her breast. She arched underneath him as he sucked her nipple into his mouth.

Her nails scraped through his hair, holding him tighter to her. He cupped both breasts, pushing them up for his mouth.

His gaze locked on her. The pads of his thumbs scraped across the tight peaks before his mouth returned with the added nip of teeth. She maneuvered her hand between them and cupped him. Her walls clenched at the weight of him in her hand, thick and hard. She swiped her thumb under the sensitive head.

He shuddered at her touch. “Harder,” he said around her painfully hard nipple. He nipped at her until her grip firmed enough to satisfy him.

She pressed him against where she needed him most and the groan that erupted from him urged her on. She rubbed against his shaft, the ridges abrading her sensitive skin and the way he sucked on her breasts pushing her so close.

“Wait for me.”

She arched under him, his name a litany as she rubbed her clit against the fullness at the base of his shaft. He cursed and reached for his side drawer, but she dragged him back.

“Don’t you move,” she growled.

The first spark of laughter returned to his brown eyes as he swiveled his hips above her, playing keep-away. She grabbed his hair, dragging him down to bite his lower lip. “You are a freaking tease.”

He laughed, levering himself off her, and the snap of latex followed by a grunt from him made her feel better. Instead of crawling right back onto her, he rolled the tip of himself along her lips and under her hood.

“Now you want to go slow?” Her body was so revved she was sure she’d go insane.

“Can’t you feel the anticipation?”

She dug her nails into his muscled butt and dragged him forward. They both groaned as he slid inside her. Her abused body screamed for him to go slow, but the clawing lust vetoed that idea. Nothing but all of his passion would do right now.

Everything about them together was so new to her. Sex was usually just something to endure for a little closeness and pleasure. But with Ben? No…with Ben nothing was simple. Her frustrated groan and hiss stopped him.

“Darcy?”

“Ben, please.” She didn’t know how to ask for it. She rolled her hips against him. Even as her muscles begged for a reprieve she had to get rid of this lightning ball of intensity bouncing inside her.

“Tell me,” he said on a gasp as her muscles clenched down on him. “God, you feel so amazing. I want—” He cut himself off and stilled again. His eyes slammed shut as if he was trying to hold on.

She cupped his face. He had to feel the same. “I want it too. I need it, Ben. All of it.”

He slammed into her and she cried out. He faltered until she screamed out a yes and then it was two people taking everything from each other. He dragged her knee up on his hip and went impossibly deeper.

His arms shook on either side of her head as he drove into her again and again. Sweat and the overwhelming slickness of her own body accepting him greedily turned their space into a sauna of lust.

She hooked her arms under his and held on to his shoulders as each thrust filled her with Ben. This wasn’t just sex. This was them at their most elemental forms. When she came it was even more overwhelming than the first time.

She sobbed into his shoulder. It was just the only way for all the pressure and the pleasure to release from her. He buried his forehead into her shoulder as he panted against her. His body still sought refuge in hers. His thrusts grew into a madness that didn’t seem to know how to blow itself out.

She clamped her legs around his hips and held on to him as they finally both broke into too many pieces to ever comprehend.

Darcy slid her fingers through his hair until she got to the top of his head and held on. She shuddered against him and dragged in embarrassingly huge gulps of air, but she couldn’t let go of him.

He tunneled his arms under her shoulders and left himself pressed into her neck.

“God,” she gasped. “Oh God.”

“All the saints and angels heard us on that one, darlin’.”

She laughed and flicked her tongue over the sweat-slick skin of his neck until she found his ear to bite.

“Hey, I’ve already been plenty abused here.” She tightened her muscles around him and he hissed. “Dirty pool.”

He was still inside her. Her body quaked with tiny aftershocks.

“Fuck, Darcy.”

“It wasn’t my fault this time.” He shifted inside her and she groaned. “Not helping.”

He nipped her shoulder and grinned down at her.

“You laugh, but I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow. Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Blackstone, I had sex all night, but it’s so nice to see you again. Let me hobble over to my section and show you how ready we are for Black Friday.”

He dropped a kiss on her mouth, his dark eyes so full of happiness it stalled her breath. “All our neighbors certainly know, so they may as well too.”

She groaned out a half laugh. “That’s not funny.”

Turning his lips into her neck, he kissed down to her shoulder. “I loved hearing you scream for me.” He levered himself up on his forearms, his hips still pinning her to the bed.

He rotated once and her eyes popped open. “You are not…”

“What?” He looked down at her. “Not getting hard again?”

She could feel her face flaming. He was so open and sexual and she…well, she definitely wasn’t. “Ben. I can’t.”

“God, you’re adorable.”

“Get off me.”

He laughed and rolled off her, both of them groaning when their skin peeled apart. “Shower.”

She threw her arm over her eyes. Exhaustion couldn’t quite dispel the afterglow. Tomorrow would be soon enough to put herself back together. “That requires walking.”

He hopped off the bed and she cracked an eye at him. “How can you be so energetic? You were dead just a minute ago.”

“Sex energizes me.”

She groaned and rolled onto her stomach. “This is never going to work out.”

He popped her on the butt.

“Hey!”

“Sure it will. I’m more than willing to crawl right back into this bed with you after we have a shower. My energy only lasts about ten minutes.”

She groaned. “No, you go.”

He crouched in front of her. “Don’t make me carry you.”

“You wouldn’t.” She wasn’t a tiny girl. The man was all talk.

He dragged her arm over his shoulder and hauled her forward, cupping his arm under knees.

“Ben!”

He swung her out of the bed and across the room before she could squeak out a protest. The fact that he didn’t grunt or even stagger under her weight left her breathless all over again. He set her down next to his wide glass shower that mirrored hers. Being nearly six feet tall left baths out of her budget so she’d opted for ultra-large showers in her duplex plan.

He set the dials to a lukewarm spray and opened the door for her. “You look like the type that’s going to hog the water.”

She grinned up at him. She could keep this light. “Yep.”

He leaned against the tiled wall and watched her under hooded eyes.

“You are not going to just stand there and watch me, are you?”

“Yep.”

“Here, have some water.” She moved aside to give him room.

He shook his head. “Suds and freckles are going to be my new favorite attractions in this shower.”

She averted her gaze. He was talking as though he wanted it to be more than one night, but that was just silly. They lived on opposite schedules and had nothing in common. She quickly sudsed up a washcloth and tried not to think about how well they worked together or fit together.

“You’re a million miles away.”

Instead of answering, she put her face under the spray and scooped the hair out of her face. She jumped as his hands slid around her waist.

“We’ll go slow.”

She covered his hand with hers. “Nothing about this—” She closed her eyes because it felt too good when he touched her and swallowed back all the emotions she just couldn’t deal with. All of them were too new, too much, and too mixed up with sex to comprehend yet. “Nothing about us has been slow.”

He tucked his chin into her shoulder and held her tight. He seemed to know that now wasn’t the time to talk about them. Instead he took her washcloth and soaped up her back and then her front, his hands achingly tender on her sore breasts and a little more firm on her shrieking back muscles.

How did he know her body so completely after just a few hours?

He crouched in front of her and she backed up. No, that was too intimate. She took the washcloth back from him. He brushed his nose along her belly. “I love that you smell like me.”

She tipped her head back and closed her eyes. Gosh, everything about him was earthy and sexual and lacking in pretense. He gently nudged her legs apart and took the washcloth back. He washed her, tracing his thumb around the sensitive knot of muscles inside her.

“Ben.”

“Shh.” He washed the soap away and leaned into her and sipped.

Her hand slapped against the tile as he soothed her with his tongue and lips. Her release was so soft and sweet that she couldn’t do anything but push his hair out of his eyes. His face was heavy with scruff and dotted with water, and his lips glossy with her. He stood, but before he could sluice the water and her release off, she pulled him down and tasted herself on his tongue.

He drew her back, his eyes already fired up. And again, she wanted to suffuse herself in all the energy that was Ben, but her body simply wasn’t willing. She swayed a little and he kissed her forehead before drawing her under the spray again. They finished up, quietly drying off before they slipped back into his bed. Without words he settled her against him until his smooth chest was her pillow.

She’d never comfortably slept with a man before. She liked her space. But she slid her thigh over his and dropped off without another thought in her head.