Taking her hand, Bryce led Nicole out of the kitchen and through the dining room. He didn’t bother to shorten his stride and she was race-walking to keep up with him by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs.

To her credit, she didn’t ask for a breather. “Don’t try to carry me up there.”

“Wasn’t gonna.” He started to take the steps two at a time, but he modified that urge although he continued the brisk pace. “Need to conserve my strength.”

“Do you, now?” Matching his efforts, she appeared short on breath.

“Yes, ma’am. A man needs stamina if he intends to love a woman the way I intend to love you.”

“And how is that?”

“Slow, steady and prolonged.”

She sucked in a breath. “You’re not taking it very slow right now.”

“I’m making sure we get into your bedroom with the door closed before Jimi gets tired of his mice.” He reached the second floor and took stock of the situation before setting off again.

“Do you even know where you’re going?”

“The room with lights on seems logical. Everything else up here is dark as a tomb.” At the open door, he paused, and his breath came out in a sigh of happiness. “Wow.”

“You like it?”

“I love it.” Scooping her into his arms, all silk and warm woman, he stepped inside, nudged the door closed with his shoulder and carried her to the bed. She’d even pulled back the covers. He laid her down and the lapels of her robe fell away. As planned, no doubt.

Leaning against the corner post of her canopy bed, he pulled off his boots while he feasted on the sight of her lying there in a pool of colorful silk. Her hair spread out on the pillow like tongues of flame. Gentle light from the oil lamps caressed her body and he memorized the view as he took off his shirt and unfastened his jeans.

The tantalizing quiver of her nipples made his mouth water and the shadow of her navel beckoned him to dip his tongue into that sweet spot. He would taste and explore tonight, savor and absorb the wonders of Nicole.

A light sheen of moisture on her inner thighs told him she was eager for him. Her gaze said it, too. He shoved his jeans and boxers to the floor. No man could ask for more than this—a beautiful woman who craved what he had to offer.

Picking up his jeans, he pulled a condom out of his pocket. He laid it on the antique nightstand beside the bed before climbing in beside her.

“You’re not putting it on?”

“Not yet.” He smoothed a hand over her cheek and down to cup her breast. “I have things to do, first.” Taking her mouth gently, he settled in with leisurely strokes of his tongue as he fondled the satin weight of her breast. She was right. This was like the rhythm of a song.

The intro—sliding his mouth to the pulse in her throat, massaging her breasts, feeling her pulse flutter against the pressure of his lips. First verse—taking her nipple between his teeth, rolling it against his tongue, drawing it deep.

Second verse—his hand stroking her damp thigh, moving higher, cupping her heat, slipping inside, teasing, taunting. Her whimpers a chorus.

Third verse—his tongue learning her secrets, coaxing her to open, to abandon herself to his intimate kisses. Her chorus of moans blending with the insistent pressure of his mouth there, right…there.

Her strangled cry of release seared him with white-hot pleasure. He stayed with her as she shivered in the aftermath of her climax until he couldn’t ignore the demands of his body another second.

Reaching for the condom, he tore open the wrapping and rolled it on. She gasped when he entered her, almost as if she wasn’t ready for more. But then she dug her fingers into his hips, bent her knees and urged him deeper.

He accepted her invitation with a groan of relief. He’d waited for this moment all day. He’d also vowed it wouldn’t be as wild as their other episodes. Locked inside her warmth he had trouble focusing on that vow. Rationality and civilized behavior faded, leaving him with raw, primitive need.

Where had that come from? He’d never been a caveman type who wanted to haul a woman off by her hair. But downstairs he’d spouted some possessive BS like lady, you’re all mine. He’d never said something like that, not even to Charity. He didn’t believe it, either. A woman belonged to herself, never to him.

He gazed into her eyes, filled with a soft light in the aftermath of her climax, and the frantic beating of his heart calmed. He’d promised her slow. He believed in honoring a promise.

He initiated an unhurried pace, rocking his hips in a steady, undemanding rhythm. “How’s that?”

“Nice.”

“I like it, too.”

She bracketed his hips and rose to meet each thrust. Her breath caught. “Bryce, I think…”

“What, sweet lady?”

“I think I could come again.”

“That was the plan, but take your time.” He’d felt the spasm, though, and his cock grew rock hard and ready for action.

“I mean soon.”

“How soon?”

“Now! Go for it!” She dug her fingers into his butt.

Abandoning the easy pace, he shoved his hands under her bottom and pounded into her. He hoped to hell she was about to come because he was. He couldn’t stop it, now.

The moment she let go with a wail, he slipped the leash on his bad boy and buried himself in her hot body. As joy swept through him, he yelled out her name. Several times.

Afterward, as he worked to catch his breath, his song teased him. His incomplete song. Capturing the essence of this woman in a few words might take more talent than he possessed.

But he would by God give it a shot, and a decent shot. He had a routine that had worked in the past—spending a night in the wilderness with only a horse and his guitar for company. Might as well try it.

Evidently he’d lost himself in that scenario because she had to wiggle his shoulder and call his name to get his attention. He propped himself on his forearms and gazed down at her. “Sorry. Zoned out for a minute. See what I mean? It’s a bad habit.”

“No, it’s a creative habit. I could tell you were thinking. But Jimi’s scratching at the door.”

Sure enough, she was right. He hadn’t heard a thing. “What do we do?”

“He’s never been shut out of this bedroom. I need to let him in.”

“Give me a minute.” He climbed out of the bed, mindful of the condom, and glanced around. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“It’s an old house. Attached bathrooms weren’t part of the floorplan.” She leaned over, pulled open the nightstand drawer, and tossed him a package of tissues.

“Thanks.” He made use of them and picked up his boxers.

“Are you getting dressed, then?”

“If the cat’s coming in, you bet. Aren’t you?”

“I hadn’t figured out this part, but he usually sleeps in here with me.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “He’s probably ready to go night-night.”

Jimi’s meow clearly said he agreed. He scratched some more.

“That’s my cue to take off and let you two do your thing.” He reached for his jeans.

“Wait.” She stood and came toward him, the robe hanging open. “I hate for you to leave.”

His gaze swept over her and he sighed. “Believe me, I hate to leave, too, but three’s a crowd and Jimi has a prior claim to your bed.”

“Would you…no, never mind.”

“Would I what?”

“Consider sharing the bed with him?” She looked cautiously hopeful.

The meows got louder.

“I doubt he would like that idea.”

“But if it turned out he was okay with it, would you be?”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “He’d make a heck of a chaperone.”

“I know, and it’s fine if you’d rather not.”

“Hey, at least I’d get to be with you.” He smiled. “Does Jimi hog the bed?”

“No. He curls into a ball down at the foot. You’d barely know he was there.”

“Oh, I’d know. To be honest, this might not work. Jimi could end up being a perfect gentleman. I’m not so sure about me.”

“You don’t have to do it, then. It was just an idea.”

He blew out a breath. “But the more I bond with the cat, the easier it’ll be for me to be over here.”

Jimi’s scratching had become nonstop.

“That’s true.”

“Then let’s try it.”

“Thank you.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Then she quickly backed away. “Before I let him in, I need to get into my jammies.”

He glanced down at his boxers. “This is all I have. You know what? I’ll put on my jeans and sleep on top of the covers.” He stepped into them and zipped up. “That’ll solve…” He lost track of what he’d meant to say.

“Solve what?” She’d tossed the robe over a little antique chair and turned her back on him while she leaned over to rummage through a bottom drawer.

He deserved a blue ribbon in self-control for not grabbing her. The cat meowing outside the door helped. “This isn’t going to work, after all.” His voice sounded strained, but that could happen whenever his jeans severely pinched his expanding privates.

“No?” She turned around, flowered pajamas clutched in her arms. “Why…oh. I’m sorry. I thought you were busy putting on your jeans. I didn’t know you were looking.”

“For future reference, I will always be looking.”

“So I guess you want to leave.” Disappointment shadowed her eyes.

He took a deep breath. “I’ll stay.” He drew strength from her happy smile.

“Good.” She tugged on her pajama bottoms and pulled the top over her head. “I’ll let him in.”

Technically the loose PJs should have reduced her hotness and thus his erection. Didn’t work that way. But he was by God leaving the jeans on. They’d work as a kind of chastity belt.

The second she opened the door, Jimi raced for the bed and jumped up on it. Only then did he freeze and look around, as if sensing all was not normal in his world. His green-eyed stare came to rest on Bryce.

“Give him a blink.”

“Okay.” He made it a slow one. Jimi blinked back, so he did it again. “How long should I keep this up?”

“That’s probably enough. Just stay where you are and don’t stare at him. He should lie down in a minute. Ah, there he goes.”

“Should I move yet?”

“Let me get in first.” She walked around the room blowing out the oil lamps.

“You might not want to douse them all. I don’t know this setup like you do.”

“Good point.” She left one lit on the dresser and walked toward the bed. “I usually take the right side, but if you want it, I’ll switch.”

He chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“Thirty minutes ago we were thrashing around naked, burning up the sheets and now we’re politely choosing sides of the bed.”

“You’re right. It’s ridiculous.”

“Go ahead and take the right side. A lefty should probably be on the left.”

“I keep forgetting you’re left-handed.” She settled down with a sigh. “I haven’t noticed any difference.”

“Difference in what?”

“Lovemaking.”

“Then you haven’t been paying attention. I always lead with my left.”

She drew in a quick breath. “This is a bad topic.”

“You started it.”

“I did and I apologize.” She was quiet for a moment. “Jimi’s purring. I think it’s safe for you to climb in.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” He crossed to the bed and assessed the situation. Jimi was closer to her side than his. He put a knee on the mattress and the cat didn’t change position. If anything, his motor got louder.

“It’s possible he’s starting to like you.”

“Since he’s hated everyone but you and your aunt, I don’t know why.”

“Could be the hat. Every time I checked on him he was sleeping in it. Aunt Henrietta and I thought he’d started life with a grandmother and granddaughter, but now I wonder if there was a cowboy in the mix.”

“That would be my good fortune.” He eased down on top of the covers and stretched out on his back, making sure he didn’t accidentally kick the cat.

Nicole reached across the distance between them and took his hand. “I can’t believe how patient you’ve been with the Jimi situation.”

He turned to face her. “You’re more than worth it.”

“What a nice thing to say.”

“Stick around. There’s lots more where that came from.”

“I can’t wait. I’ve never known a songwriter before.” She brushed her fingers gently over his. “You really are tearing up your hand, though.”

“It’s in a good cause.”

“I agree. You’ll make plenty of people happy if you start playing again.”

“Hope so. By the way, when’s your first appointment in the morning?”

“I have a client at nine.”

“Do you need to set an alarm?”

“No. Jimi’s my alarm. He—well, speak of the devil. Did you decide to join us up here, kitty-cat?”

“Has he ever done this?” Bryce lay very still as the cat made one slow turn and nestled between them.

“Nope. He always stayed at the foot of the bed.” She squeezed his hand. “I think Jimi likes you.”