As I pulled into the circle in front of the house, I thought that it was time to book it out of Delaneyland. God, what I would give to never have to drive up this deceptively beautiful landscape again. There was the drive itself, with the roses blooming under the weeping willow trees, somehow half-wild and perfectly manicured all at once, and then the house itself, with its welcoming lights shining out of the mansion windows.

Rob, after all, had not one but two able-bodied drivers living in his house with him now. His grandmother might not care to drive, but she seemed perfectly able; anyone who could walk in those heels had to be in good health. And Liam, since he flew jets for a living, had to be adequate at driving a stick shift.

I cleared my throat as the passenger doors opened. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Rob hesitated, his hand on the door. "Sure, of course."

His grandmother gave him the faintest, knowing look as she passed his open door, and then she headed for the house. Liam slammed his own door shut and followed her in a hurry. He leaned in close to her, murmuring something, and she laughed.

I felt my cheeks flush, but I sat there with my hands still on the steering wheel and the car running. The AC was blasting icy-cold air that prickled my skin, but I'd wanted the passengers in the back to be comfortable.

"Are you going to turn off the car?" he asked, getting back in beside me.

"No, I need to park it in the garage."

"Don't worry about it," he said. "It's late. You should get home if you want to."

"I will," I said. "So you don't need me now, right?"

"What?" His eyebrows arched.

"You don't need me. You have Liam to drive you, you have your grandmother--"

"She can't drive me anywhere but crazy."

"Why not?" I shook my head, refusing to be derailed by a conversation about the Delaney family dynamic. "Whatever! You have Liam. You don't need me."

"I do," he said, "And we finally get to talk. Okay? Can we go for a drive?"

"They'll think it's weird," I said, nodding to the house.

"I have a last minute errand I forgot. I desperately need to stop by a store."

"A store? Any store? I thought I got to go home, finally."

"A store, any store, and would you hear me out?"

"Sure, Rob.” I knew my tone came out sounding rude, but I was also turning the wheel, pulling out of the circle down the long lane. I was embarrassingly obedient no matter how snippy I sounded. "Tell me about how it was really a compliment to tell me don't fall in love post-coitus. Tell me about how that wasn't shitty."

"I'm not saying it wasn't, but that's not a good reason to stop being my driver."

I would have thrown my hands up in the air if I weren't responsible for the steering wheel; as it was, my fingers jerked up in a movement of exasperated bemusement.

"Your driver? You don't need a driver. You like having me around for some twisted reason."

"It's not twisted. I enjoy your company."

I glanced at him sideways, feeling irritated and pleased all at once.

"You like mine too,” he said.

“You’re an arrogant ass and I don't understand you," I said, shaking my head.

He shrugged.

"And you're not going to explain it to me? Despite promising you would if I gave you the time to talk tonight?"

He gestured at a street sign ahead. "Take a right. We can go talk at the park."

The park was empty, and there was a "No Trespassing After Dusk" sign hanging up alongside the swings. "This feel safe. This feels like a good idea."

"There's a walking trail," he said, pointing to the parking spaces by the tennis courts.

A few minutes later, we were out of the car. The evening air felt cool, although the earth beneath our feet still held the heat of the summer day, and it was scented with the greenery around us. Rob led me under the spreading branches of a long, gravel trail, the moonlight shifting through the ceiling of leaves above them like a kaleidoscope.

He hesitated, then reached out and took my hand. I let him, cursing myself at the same time as my fingers wrapped around his. Rob's hand felt big and warm and comforting. I wished things were different, and I felt the ache I'd carried all day after his words open wider.

"I have a tough time talking about my feelings," he said. "About my family."

There was a pause between us. We walked under the trees, hearing the peepers sing in the background. Rob swung our hands slightly between us.

"That's it?" I asked, wondering where the punchline was. "I have a tough time talking about my feelings, too, Rob. That's not that special."

"I just. I mean, I don't want you to think I'm a horrible human being."

"I don't think that," I said. "You didn't bring me into the woods to murder me, did you? I always get a little nervous when men want to take a nature walk after dark. But as long as you didn't bring me into the woods to murder me, I don't think you're a horrible human being."

He gazed back at me, amusement sparking in his vivid eyes and chasing away some of his sadness. "You are such an odd girl."

"That's why you like me," I said, with a lightness I didn't feel.

"I do."

"You never answered my question."

"The only thing I want to do is kiss you," he said, and as irritated as I was with him, part of me wanted to kiss him while I could.

He leaned forward, his lips touching mine gently. I began to twine my arms around his neck before I flashed back to the stairs. "Don't fall in love with me," he'd said with that same easy, teasing tone he used now.

My hands flattened on his shoulders, and I pushed him away, turning my face to one side to break contact.

"Okay," he said, standing still as I staggered a few steps past him down the trail, my feet unsteady beneath me. The rough gravel trail seemed to tilt for a second, as if pulling myself away from Rob's arms made me sick.

"I guess I deserved that," he went on.

I rubbed my forehead, trying to clear my head. "I guess you did."

"I don't want you to think I'm a horrible person," he said, "But historically? The men in my family are horrible people."

"So?"

He made a small sound that might have been laughter, but didn't sound quite right. "So I don't know how to be a normal guy in a normal relationship? My father left a woman to die. My mother..."

"What happened to your mother?" I asked, when the pause went on uncomfortably long.

"It's hard to know," he said. "Anyway, she's dead now. And my grandfather? Not a prize. I don't want you to fall in love with me, Naomi. Because I don't want to let you down."

There was a long pause again. He stood there, the look on his face expectant, and I wanted to slap him.

"That's it? You're nervous like anyone is at the start of a relationship and you think that's so special because you're Rob Delaney?"

"I don't know that I'd say relationship..."

"Rob, shut up." I couldn't take it anymore. I certainly couldn't let him keep talking when he was going to dig himself a new, deeper hole.

So I kissed him. I pressed my lips hard against his until I felt him give, his tense shoulders dipping slightly under my palms. He wrapped his arms tight around my waist and pulled my body into his. His lips parted under mine, inviting me in.

For once.

I pulled away, shaking my head. "I don't know that I'd say relationship? What's wrong with you?"

He groaned into my hair. "I don't know. But don't walk away from me, not now..."

God, if only I could. If only I could keep Rob from seeing how powerless I felt in the wake of wanting him. Rob was the ocean wave, and my feet kept slipping in the surf, unable to resist his pull towards the sea.

I looped my fingers through his belt loops, holding his hard body against mine. My knuckles brushed over the rough denim of his jeans, the warm skin over the indent of his hips and the firmness of his six-pack even through his t-shirt. Then his lips were against mine again, full of passion. The firmness of his mouth against mine, as if he would possess me, was countered by the softness of those pink lips.

He tasted like mint Chapstick and future agony and I didn't have it in me to care any more about the future.

Rob's hand on my lower back slipped under my waistband, his fingers warm against my skin, and I gasped into his shoulder at the intimate touch. His hand cupped my ass cheek, caressing the weight of it in his hand, and it seemed unfair that he could touch me so intimately when I wasn't touching him like that. Yet. As we kissed, my fingers worked blindly on the buckle of his belt, the button and zipper of his jeans. Fumbling with his clothes, touching his abs and that rock-hard pelvis, made my heat for him grow.

He smiled into my kiss, his lips on mine quirking up, as his hand fell over mine to push the button through. I slid my hand into his jeans, feeling the warm bulk of him through his boxers, and I grabbed him. Tight. Rob's smile against my lips widened.

"Are we really doing this right here?" he murmured.

"There's no one around," I murmured back. My hand stroked deeper, past his cock to take his balls firmly. I'd read in Cosmo once that you shouldn't mess around and be scared of the balls; act like you own them.

Rob was kissing me again, and he certainly didn't seem to mind. His hand retreated from my jeans, his hands wrapping around my hips, and for a second I was disappointed. Then he picked me up, and I twined my arms and legs around him, surprised. The feel of his muscular abs under my thighs, of his shoulders under my arms, was magnetic.

"There's a picnic bench," he murmured into my ear. "The ground is muddy."

"You're such a romantic.”

Rob carried me down the moonlit path to a picnic bench. When my feet touched the ground, I stroked my hands down his chest and abs, but he took a step back. He pulled his t-shirt over his head in one swift motion, revealing those powerful arms and the V of his waist. Then he spread the t-shirt over the edge of the picnic table.

Rob picked me up and set me on the table, and I felt the hardness of the wooden table beneath my ass, even through the soft fabric of his t-shirt. Rob pulled my jeans down, kneeling in front of me, working them over my thighs, and I kicked them away. Rob was grinning as he snatched them from mid-air. "I'm trying to keep them out of the mud."

"I don't care," I said.

He tossed the jeans onto the table behind me, pressing his lips to the edge of my panties. At his constant, firm kisses, the working of his mouth along the elastic band, I felt my head roll back. Above me, the trees shaded us from the view of even the stars; I glimpsed their silver light sporadically between the spidery web of branches above. But my glimpses of the sky were the most beautiful night sky I'd ever seen, as Rob worked my panties down my thighs, his mouth following in trace, kissing his way down my legs. He kissed the inside of my ankle, the arch of my foot, as if he loved every bit of me.

Then he stood, tossing the underwear onto the table too. I knew he was trying to get back down to continue his slow loving of my most intimate places, but I wrapped my arms around him, drawing him close, my lips seeking his again. As we kissed, I yanked down his jeans and boxers so I could stroke him again, feeling his lips part against mine in pleasure.

But he still pulled away from me to kiss my inner thigh. He kissed inwards until his lips pressed against my center. His eyes flickered up to mine, gauging my reaction. Those blue eyes, warm and interested in my pleasure, were the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen.

His mouth parted, his tongue gliding, exploring, tasting me thoughtfully. His mouth began to work against me, his tongue pulsing steadily inside, stroking my clit hard every time he pushed inside me. I felt my hands tighten on his shoulders as the heat built.

"Stop," I murmured. "I'm about to come, and I want your cock."

His eyes crinkled at the corners. He turned his face to kiss my inner thigh again, and then stood, his leanly muscled torso between my thighs. "Those just might be the sweetest words in the English language."

I felt my cheeks flush slightly. "I don't usually talk like that."

"Well, I love it," he said. He lifted my chin to kiss me again. His hand on my jaw felt so right.

I wrapped my thighs tight around his body, pulling him in. He bent to grab a condom from the pocket of his jeans, and I grinned. "You knew we'd end up having sex in the woods?"

"To be honest, I'm always hoping for sex with you," he said. "In the ocean. In the woods. In the Suburban."

"We should reclaim it," I said, thinking of the trauma of the carjacking.

"Yes," he said softly. "I like the way you think."

Then I was easing myself even closer to him, my fingers biting into the hard wooden edge of the picnic table, as he pressed his cock against me. He thrust inside me, and I let my head fall back again.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, kissing the top of my breasts. His hands settled on my waist, and then even his words and the stars and the trees above were lost to the rhythm of our bodies moving together, to the pure hot flush of pleasure that rose over my body.

When my orgasm bloomed, my toes curling with my legs wrapped around his waist, my fingers dug deep into his muscular shoulders. He lifted me off the table, his hands tight on my ass, as we shuddered together. The cool night air skated over our bodies, doing little to dull the heat we shared.

I came back to earth slowly, feeling oversensitive now from my powerful orgasm and yet still loving the warmth of his body held against my thighs. I kept one arm looped over his shoulders as I pushed the hair out of my eyes, feeling suddenly shy.

We'd really just had sex. In the woods. I was turning into a different person.

Or maybe I'd always been a slightly different person than the staid, good girl everyone thought I was.

Rob kissed my neck as he set me back down on the picnic table. I felt the air caressing my body, the breeze that slipped over my nipples and my belly and my swollen sex, and the hard wood under my ass, and the heat of him as he still couldn't stop kissing me.

Being a good girl had always been overrated.