Gigi paused on the stairs that crept up the side of the garage. The house on the other side of the narrow gravel driveway lay in darkness. In the wide backyard, fireflies winked bright yellow green.

Behind her, Noah advanced two steps, until only a few inches separated them. His body provided a welcome warmth on this late summer night. She looked over her shoulder at him, expecting to see impatience, and was met with a soft grin.

He had all the time in the world now, and he knew it.

He also had her trapped on the stairs, with nowhere to go but up and into his apartment. He knew that, too.

The thought made her chuckle.

He started up the stairs again, forcing her to precede him. "What's funny?"

"Nothing. It's nice here."

They arrived at the landing and his front doorstep. He slid one powerful arm around her waist and pulled her gently back toward him. She rested against his chest as he put his key in the lock, but he left the key ring dangling when he turned her around to face him.

His big hands on either side of her, he slowly pinned her to the door with his body before kissing her. She parted her lips to meet his. His tongue plunged deep into her mouth with a suddenness and force she'd never experienced with him before. She reached for the back of his neck, her fingers brushing the wiry hair where it had begun to grow out of his short summer cut.

At her touch, he pushed himself against her, hard. He meant to claim her tonight. This was pure, primal possession.

She smiled against his mouth when he pulled away from her, but she didn't speak. If that's what this was to be, she wouldn't resist it.

He let her in to his place, and she looked around in the dark as he locked the door behind them. It was a fairly large studio, with a linoleum-floored kitchenette in one corner, and a door on the opposite side leading to a compact bathroom. A box fan whirred tirelessly in the far window. A couch about the same age as her own sat near a television on a metal stand.

Two duffel bags waited in front of the couch. Her breath caught at the sight of them.

His arms wound around her waist, and he held her tight. She relaxed into his embrace for one long breath, and then another. When she was steady again, he guided her to the bed, which dominated the center of the room. She sat on the trampoline-taut linens and kicked her shoes toward the nightstand.

He eased his shoulders out of the shirt he'd left open after joining the group effort to clean up after Bruce had poured Heather into their car. Spellbound, she watched him pull the T-shirt over his head, revealing the hard body she'd thought she'd never see again.

"You'd better take that off." His voice was sandpaper in the still summer air. "I can't figure out where the zipper is, and I'm not going to have the patience to look for it very hard."

A giddy grin spread over her face. She undid the hook beneath her left arm and slid the zipper down to the music of his belt buckle clinking. The rasp of fabric filled her ears as he finished undressing. She rose to let the dress fall away from her body and reached behind her back to unfasten her bra, peeling the cups off after the long, hot evening. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and pushed until they dropped to the floor.

He made sure she could see the way he looked at her as he made his way to the bed. Tonight, she would be taken. She would be swept away.

She was ready. She was more than ready.

Their bodies collided beside the bed. She reached up into his kiss, her whole body arching upward into his. His hard-on branded the soft skin of her belly. She anchored herself on his shoulders with her nails.

His breath fanned her cheek as his tongue drove into her, marking a rhythm as old as mankind. She fell, weightless and unafraid, onto his bed. She opened her thighs to make room for him, her foot resting on his calf.

His mouth seared the skin of her throat, the curve of her ear. She swept her hands over his broad back, sticky with sweat. So much of him, this man who would claim her. And all hers.

She needed him inside her. She traced the long line of his spine down to that perfect ass and then dug her nails in.

Noah laughed. Gigi joined him, unable to resist the good-natured sound she hoped to hear far more often.

"I wondered how far we would get before you tried something like that," he said.

She blinked, playing innocent. "I'm not allowed to grab your ass?"

He shifted his weight on top of her and took both her hands in his. He laced their fingers together.

Something inside her made her struggle. She needed to feel the sheer physical power of his body in opposition to hers. His superior strength, restraining her so easily, excited her in a foreign, primitive way.

She'd be free of him only when he permitted it, but looking up at his defiant grin, she felt anything but powerless.

"Last time you had your hands free, you tickled me," he said. "We're not going to have a repeat of that."

"You got the condom already, then?" She wriggled playfully in his grip again.

His gaze cut over to the duffel bags. "Dammit."

He'd packed everything. She wasn't sure what pricked her heart more—the fact that he really had been ready to leave in just a few hours, or the fact that he could get his entire life into two bags.

You're home now. I promise.

"It's all right," she said. "I'll be very still while you find the condom."

"You better."

She watched him cross the room with long strides, watched the muscles in his long legs working. He plunged one huge arm into the first duffel and rummaged around in it. She knew the condoms wouldn't be there—nothing he wanted so badly could be in the first place he looked—and she bit her lip to keep from laughing at his muffled curses when he reached into the other bag.

He returned to the bed with two condoms and stared down at her as he separated them. "Make yourself wet for me." Arousal thickened his voice. "I'm not going to wait long."

She held his gaze as he stretched the condom over his thick shaft. She smoothed both hands over her body to the juncture of her thighs and opened her legs just enough to admit her fingers. She slid her hands over her slick pussy lips, curling one finger over her engorged clit until the pleasure of it made her moan.

"I've been wet a long time, baby," she whispered. "You know that."

How long had it been since she'd watched him jack off for her? Some perversion made her want to return the favor, spreading her legs a little more, tucking her fingers deep inside herself until the scent and sound of her juices hung on the heavy air.

He stood over her silently, his hand still wrapped around the base of his massive cock. His lips pressed together as he struggled to master his thirst.

"Noah," she sighed. "Come fuck me, baby. Before I make myself come."

He settled between her thighs gradually, like a man who meant to stay there a while, and she opened her arms to him again. The head of his cock nudged her plump pussy lips. She whimpered with need and angled her hips up to take him.

He surged into her. Together, their panting breath was razor sharp as they mated. His long, thick cock filled her, stretched her. His fingers slid between hers, her nectar making their grip slippery.

His greedy mouth closed over her upturned fingers, his tongue swirling over and between them as he fucked her. The sensation enveloped her and she felt her body open, seeking still more pleasure. A desire built in the very core of her, a need to embrace his power and strength. She needed all of him, every breath and heartbeat, and she knew she always would.

He closed his teeth on her fingers, just enough to make her focus before he drove into her with a depth and ferocity she never knew she craved. She was the woman made to satisfy this man's most primal hunger. She cried out for him, wordlessly demanding more, needing everything he had.

His climax slammed into him hard, and in the dark, she could make out the muscle and tendons of his powerful body as pleasure galvanized him. His cry was wrung from the deepest part of him, summoning her own orgasm. Pleasure twisted and clawed through her, out of her, and her scream was lost beneath his.

Panting and sweat-slick, they dropped to the bed together. The breeze from the fan swept over them, cooling their heated flesh. His grip on her hands loosened. She closed her fingers around his.

Just outside the window, very far away, the patter of rain intensified into a rushing downpour. Cooler air washed into this room where before, there had been nothing but him. She unwound her hand from his and wrapped her arm over his shoulders, taking hold of the back of his neck until he caught his breath.

"You need anything, boss?" he whispered.

He eased himself off her and they turned to face each other on his bed. He stroked her hair, twisting some of her curls around his fingers.

"Got everything right here, Monroe."

He kissed her forehead, and together, they let the rain sing them to sleep.

The End