My arms wrapped around her as we lay on our sides on the carpet. The experience was like standing on the edge of a cliff, peering into the void below.

Her heart, racing against mine, started to slow.

And I noticed the details that’d escaped me before.

How her hips fit so neatly against me.

The way my arm looped around her, my fingers playing with the edges of her hair.

I’d never had that “should we have done this?” moment after sex. I sleep with women I’m dating. It’s a civilized, adult progression from mutual attraction to mutual respect to everything that comes after.

This felt…different.

But I wasn’t ready to look at it too closely.

Sam lifted her head, dark lashes blinking as she raised soft eyes to mine. “Hey.”

“Hey.” The word stuck in my throat.

Her attention dropped to my arm as she traced my bicep with her finger. Down to my elbow, the scar that was still there after nearly three decades.

Then she moved to my pecs, then lower to my ribcage. Lingering on a pale white mark on my abs. “What’s this one?”

I hesitated. When women asked about the marks on my body, I’d always blown it off. Said they were from playing sports.

Whether it was the sense of calm washing over me, or the fact that it was Sam asking, I didn’t want to lie.

“Kitchen knife. Someone left it on the counter and I was playing with it. It slipped.”

“Before…”

“Yeah.” I flipped her over and her breath hitched as her back hit the carpet. My biceps flexed as I lowered myself over her. “Not what I want to talk about.”

Her fingers closed around my arms, pulling me closer as I dropped kisses down her neck. “You always get your way?”

“Usually.” I pulled back, the protest on her face inordinately satisfying as I rose.

I went to the bathroom and returned with a washcloth. I moved down her body, pausing over her hips to look up. “Spread ‘em.”

“You’re not doing that,” she said, reaching for the cloth.

I shoved her hand away. “I want a clean canvas for my masterpiece.”

Sam snorted a laugh. In her moment of weakness, I managed to part her thighs.

The cold water had her sucking in a breath, but I held her down. “That's my girl,” I murmured.

I tossed the cloth to the side and bent my mouth to kiss her smooth thighs. She went still under my hands, my mouth.

“You’re missing the canvas,” she breathed.

“Have some faith.”

I loved every inch of her body, from the hands she’d used to draw me pictures in school, to the wrist she’d hurt diving off Max’s uncle’s boat, to the smooth expanse of stomach that used to shake with laughter when I’d tickle her.

But there was definitely something to be said for these new places.

My greedy gaze lingered on her pink folds. The sight of her, the damned smell had the tension in my gut knotting tighter.

I’d known sex with Sam would be good.

I hadn’t expected to feel so driven, so desperate.

Fuck, the things I wanted to do to her.

I traced a finger up the inside of her thigh, catching some of the wetness and sliding it over her clit.

Sam’s hands fisted in my hair as she arched off the floor, trying to steer my mouth toward her center.

“Tell me what you want.”

Sam had never used words when actions would do. But now, I wanted them. I wanted her to tell me exactly what she needed from me.

She bit her lip and I pressed harder on her button. Her throaty voice seemed like it was torn from her when she said, “I want your mouth on me.”

I shifted back on my knees. Peered down at her flushed, naked body.

I licked the taste of her off my fingers, watching her eyes cloud as I did it. She shifted up on her elbows, her breasts full and tempting and inches from my lips.

I laid an arm over her trembling stomach to hold her down and met her longing gaze with mine. “Sam?”

“Yes?”

“I’m going to ruin you.”

I put my mouth on her and she cried out.

She tasted like honey and woman, and if I hadn’t already wanted to devour her, I would’ve now.

Part of me wished I could eat her sounds. The rest of me loved hearing her, just like this. The effect my fingers, my tongue had on her body.

Her phone rang from somewhere far away and her startled eyes met mine.

“You’re not getting that.”

I turned my attention back to her body, tracing patterns in her skin as her thighs clenched under me.

The phone finished ringing. I'd barely had a second to appreciate the silence, cut by her moans, when the phone started again.

Sam let out a frustrated groan, shifting up to sitting. Worry warred with desire on her expression. “It’s probably my dad. Don't move.”

Feeling like a saint, I let her scramble out from under me. Sam grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her as she dashed out the door and down the stairs to the kitchen where she’d left the phone.

I dropped back onto my elbows and let my head fall back.

If some part of me had thought things would get simpler after I blew off steam with her, that hadn’t happened. Round one had taken the edge off but there was still a long list of things I wanted to do with this woman.

Fine. Our history ran deep. It was understandable that resolving it would be a little complicated.

A dozen visions ran through my mind, ways I wanted to have her…

On the floor, her back arching off the rug as my tongue made her fly.

On the bed, her on her stomach as I filled her with my aching cock, moans muffled by the pillow.

In the shower, her body slick with soap and both of us slippery with lust.

I heard her voice but couldn’t make out the words.

Her feet on the staircase preceded the rest of her. She appeared in the doorway a few moments later. “He’s on his way home.”

It took a gargantuan effort of self-control not to shut the door, lock it, and drag Sam into the bed within arm’s reach.

Instead I pushed myself to standing, getting some validation from the way her gaze followed my movement.

We dressed and jogged down the stairs to the kitchen.

“We’re picking up where we left off upstairs,” I told her as we stopped by the back door. Her eyes darkened and I brushed a piece of hair out of her face. “Tomorrow. I have a townhouse.”

“God, you’re romantic. Is that your go-to line? ‘I have a townhouse’?”

I stared at her. “It’s on Commonwealth.”

“Oh. In that case.” Sam rolled her eyes, but I wasn't ready to let it go.

“You want romance, Sam?” I asked, surprised. We hadn't talked about the confession I'd blurted out, but I realized the words had done something to her.

The smile fell away. “No. I don’t.”

I started to close in. Her hands found my chest, pushing away, but I insisted.

“But you want this.” I didn’t wait for her to respond before my mouth claimed hers, triumphant when she relented and her fingers finally twisted in my shirt.

Unfinished business. If anything the need burned hotter, brighter inside me now that I'd had a taste of her.

We were both breathing hard when I pulled back.

“That’s what I thought,” I murmured, satisfaction filling me. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”