He was barely keeping his shit together.

Hannah’s neck…God. She had a metal plate holding one of her vertebra together, for fuck’s sake. And she hadn’t told him. She’d been “fine” when she’d called to tell him about the accident.

She wasn’t even close to fine.

And she hadn’t fucking told him.

He’d been right about being bad at relationships with women. Clearly. His own girlfriend, practically his fiancée, had been in a major accident, had surgery, endured therapy and pain, was still dealing with pain issues, and she hadn’t told him a thing about it.

Kyle forced himself to say a nice goodbye to Hope. He even managed a smile. But it seemed like all of the things Hannah had told him on the sidewalk on Teal street were suddenly sinking in.

And she hadn’t had sex in three years. Since him. Jesus, that was enough to rip apart absolutely anything that had been holding his emotions back. He was beyond thrilled that she hadn’t been involved with anyone else. He was also worked up about her being scared of it though. He so wanted to help her find that pleasure again. But he so did not want to do one damned thing that might hurt her.

All of the relaxing/energizing/healing/positive aromas he’d just been inhaling in Hope’s shop weren’t doing shit to help his emotional turmoil.

But then Hannah slipped her hand into his as they stepped out of Hope’s shop.

He took a deep breath, worked on not squeezing her hand too hard, and absorbed not just the feel of her, but that she’d initiated it and how natural it felt.

“Endorphins can also be really good for pain,” she said as they walked along Main. She said it matter-of-factly, looking in the window at the clothing shop.

But Kyle’s reaction was hardly matter-of-fact. “You need some endorphins, Hannah?” he asked.

“I think we both need some endorphins.” She looked over at him.

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re wound tight,” she said. “I can feel it.”

Wound tight was an understatement. “It’s been an interesting day so far.”

She nodded and kept walking. But he pulled her around to face him, stepping close. Right on Main Street. And she definitely did not push him away.

“I don’t get worked up like this about things,” he told her. “I handle stuff. I’m the go-to guy when other people get worked up.”

She nodded again.

“But you—you make me feel things that I don’t know how to handle. And it’s messing with me.” He lifted a hand to the back of her neck. “I hate that you’re hurt.”

She gave him a little smile and said, “Well, while I really want to show you that you don’t have to be everything to everyone all the time…I’m going to tell you something that I think will help you a lot right now.”

“Lay it on me.” He’d love to hear this.

“A lot of people could be doing the things you do for other people—painting bedrooms and washing windows and making pasta and stuff—but there’s something you can do for me that no one else can.”

He felt his heart expand painfully. Damn, he really did have a thing for being The Guy. And being The Guy for Hannah, in any way, was dangerously enticing. “Tell me,” he said, his voice low and firm.

“You can give me an orgasm. Or ten.”

Heat ripped through him. “That idea isn’t exactly helping me feel less wound up,” he said. “But yes. Absolutely. I’m your guy. Let’s go.”

He started down the sidewalk, pulling her along behind him. She laughed and jogged to catch up.

Wound up didn’t begin to describe it, actually. And it was a combination of so many things. It was the fact that she’d trusted him with her secrets. It was the fact that he wanted to take care of her and protect her and make her feel good, and be whatever she needed him to be. But also that she was feeling a little like healing him too. She was worried about how much he did for other people, how much of his life was spent on other people’s lives, and how he needed to relax—apparently. And while he certainly didn’t think there was really anything to worry about, he did like that she was trying to take care of him.

They hadn’t done that for each other before.

They had both been kicking ass and taking names and setting goals and mowing them down. Hannah had never really needed him. Sure, she loved when he worked beside her and they turned manual labor into something fun and flirty. But it wasn’t like she couldn’t have gotten it done without him. She was the most capable person he’d ever met, next to himself.

Now it was different. They were seeing things in the other that needed some TLC. And they wanted to be the ones giving it.

That felt…awesome. He could admit it. In all those years of taking care of other people together, they’d never really taken care of one another.

It was time that changed.

They turned off of Main onto a sidewalk leading north and a minute later were in a quiet residential area. Not that Main Street Sapphire Falls was loud and crazy and busy, but it was truly the hub of the businesses and where the majority of what traffic they did have could be found. Even a block north of Main, things got quiet and slower.

They cut through yards, making their way to Hannah’s mom and dad’s house. They weren’t talking. But they didn’t need to. They’d already said a lot and, frankly, Kyle’s mind was a lot more focused on showing Hannah how he was feeling very soon.

As they came around the corner of the Warners’ house, just a block over from the McIntires’ house, they were hit in the face with drops of water and they pulled up short. The Warners were watering their lawn.

The spray arched away from them, and Kyle said, “We’ll have to cut this way.” He started to skirt the wet yard and head through the space between the shed and the neighbor’s yard, but Hannah pulled him to a stop.

“Or,” she said, giving him a big smile. “We could just go right through here.”

There was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes that made Kyle willing to do anything. It was strange, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Hannah mischievous before. He’d seen plenty of other emotions, of course, over the years, but definitely nothing that had to do with trouble or naughtiness.

He liked it. A lot. Which was also a little unusual for him. And worth exploring. He liked predictable. Mischief was not predictable. And Lord knew he should be careful about letting things with Hannah be unpredictable. But he couldn’t help himself, it seemed.

“Through the sprinklers?” he asked, eyeing the fountain-like spray that bowed over the yard, leaving silvery drops on the grass.

She nodded and started walking backward, tugging him with her.

“But we’ll get wet,” he said. It was a weak protest at best. But honestly, neither of them had ever been big into getting messy in the past. Then again, things had gotten messy anyway.

“Yeah, but you like it when I get wet.”

Kyle stopped. Hannah had never talked dirty. Not to him. And frankly, if he thought about her doing it with anyone else, a possessive anger filled his chest. Suddenly, with that single, still-not-even-all-that-dirty sentence, he wanted to hear so much more. “Yeah, I really do,” he told her with a nod.

“And if our clothes get wet, we’ll just have to take them off and put them in the dryer when we get to my house.”

Yep, he was all in here.

He pulled her to his body, wrapped his arms around her, and lifted her off the ground. She gave a little shriek as he headed into the cold spray. Within moments, they were both soaked. They were also laughing. And Kyle felt like his heart was beating harder than it ever had, looking into her eyes as they spun through the sprinkler like two little kids. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her quite like this. And, hell, he’d seen her as a little kid. But even then, she’d been more…reserved. He’d seen her happy, of course. But this was different. This was just pure happiness on her face. It wasn’t about some accomplishment or some big family event or a parade or the annual festival. It was simple and spontaneous and…absolutely gorgeous. They hadn’t done this—this silly, in-the-moment-just-because fun. Not enough, anyway. Not nearly enough.

Their skin grew wetter and slippery, and Hannah’s grip on his neck grew tighter, until almost instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist to keep from sliding. His hands went to her ass to keep her up against him and their mouths ended up only millimeters apart. They stood under the spray, just looking at each other, not caring that rivulets of water were running down their faces and that their clothes were plastered to their bodies.

Well, he cared about that a little. Her tank and shorts molded to her body, and she looked like a freaking water goddess.

“I wish I could keep this look on your face forever,” he told her, not even aware he was going to say the words until he had.

Her expression softened. “Really?”

“Really. God, maybe if we’d done more of this—” He cut himself off before he completed the sentence.

She pressed her lips together, staring into his eyes. Then she said, “I know. I think that too.”

“I’m sorry. For not being what you needed.” His voice sounded tight, which made sense since he practically felt his throat squeezing the words as they went past.

She took a shaky breath. “Don’t be. We were us, Kyle. We were what we both wanted us to be then.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I know. I just— We missed some stuff.”

She nodded. “But we’re here now. We can do that stuff now.”

“Anything,” he said, completely serious. “Anything to make you look like that.”

Maybe he should be strong, nurse his hurt feelings a little longer, remember the pain and regret. But this didn’t feel weak. This felt like…healing. It felt like things that had been broken were getting put back together. Maybe even stronger than before.

“What’s going to keep me looking like this is you holding me, just like this, but without any clothes between us.”

Kyle immediately pivoted in the direction of her house and started across the lawn.

She laughed. “You can’t carry me all the way there.”

“Watch me.”

She leaned in and put her mouth near his ear. “We can get there faster if you put me down and we run.”

He dropped her to her feet immediately, grabbed her hand and, laughing, they ran to her mom and dad’s. The back door was, of course, unlocked. As were all back doors in Sapphire Falls. Which was a little crazy and a little great. They burst through the door and into the kitchen. Hannah stripped her shirt over her head as she started for the laundry room, but Kyle reached out and snagged the back of her shorts.

He pulled her to a stop, spun her, and backed her up against the door. Then he kissed her. And kissed her. And kissed her. He held the back of her neck in one hand, the other squeezing her hip as he poured his passion and regret and affection and concern into the kiss. This had to be good for her. He had to be gentle, even as he wanted to rip every stitch of clothing from her body and run his tongue and lips and hands over every inch of her.

She was wiggling against him now, and he felt her hands slip under the edge of his shirt and start rolling it up his body. The wet cotton definitely didn’t move as smoothly as when it was dry. When she got it to his armpits, he leaned back only enough to help her peel it off. She ran her hands over his pecs and shoulders, down his sides, and over his stomach. The muscles jumped under her touch, and he felt a shiver go through him—desire, anticipation, and yeah, that pure happiness again.

He brought her in for another kiss, thoroughly exploring her mouth, a little lazier this time, but she started wiggling almost right away and making those sighing-moaning sounds that shot straight to his cock.

He felt her hands at his fly and realized he needed to catch up a little. He moved his hands to the waistband of her shorts, grateful for the baggier cotton. He quickly sent them to her ankles, unable to keep from looking down and taking in her plain white bra and the purple polka-dotted panties.

“I don’t match my underwear and bras anymore,” she said, lowering his zipper.

Her knuckles skimmed over his erection and he sucked in a breath. “I don’t care about matching bras and panties, Hannah.”

“It just seemed so silly to be worried about stuff like that.”

“Totally silly. Doesn’t matter if they match once they’re on the floor,” he agreed.

She started to pull his jeans over his hips but, as everyone knew, wet denim was a bitch to get off. She yanked and tugged for a few seconds but finally let out a breath. “You’re going to have to do it.”

But he had a better plan at the moment. Keeping his pants on for a little bit seemed like a good idea. So that he could take the time to do some other things they hadn’t done before.

“Laundry room,” he told her, turning her and nudging her in that direction.

She went without argument, grabbing their shirts and her shorts from the floor on her way. Kyle took a second to appreciate how fucking amazing her ass looked in the unmatched purple polka dots. He ran a hand through his wet hair, then started after her.

Hannah tossed the clothes into the dryer, then turned to face him. She watched him watch her unhook her bra and toss it in too. Then she slipped her panties off.

Kyle could have sworn he actually felt his blood rush to his cock.

Damn. She looked exactly as he remembered her, and yet different. It was as if his memories of her had dimmed. Real-life, high-definition 3D was…fucking amazing. “You’re gorgeous,” he choked out.

She gave him a smile and said, “You’ve still got clothes on.”

“Yeah, it’s staying that way for a while.”

She lifted a brow. “Oh?”

“I need some control. Wet denim might be my only hope.”

“You don’t need control.” She frowned slightly. “I’m not fragile.”

“That’s not the problem.”

“You’re sure? I don’t want you to go easy on me.”

Christ. She sure as hell wasn’t going easy on him, talking like that. “I intend to go just exactly the way you need me to go,” he told her. “But if I take my pants off, I’m going to thrust first and think later.”

She laughed at that. “I wouldn’t mind more thrusting and less thinking right now, Dr. Ames.”

That didn’t help either. There was something dirty about her calling him by his title while bare-assed naked in front of him. And he really fucking liked it.

“Hannah,” he said, his voice gruff.

“Yeah?”

“Get up on the dryer.”

Her eyes widened slightly, but she boosted herself up on the machine without any questions or protests.

And that was maybe the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

He’d never been bossy, per se. They’d always been on the same page. Honest to God, with every damned thing. It was as if they could read each other’s minds and finish each other’s sentences. Of course, he hadn’t known that she was actually hurt after her accident. Or that all the pressure here was what had kept her away.

He tamped down those feelings and thoughts. Now was definitely not the time to get into that. He was going to be fully focused on her and what she needed at this moment.

He’d stew about the other moments later.

Kyle stepped closer, but not quite close enough to touch her. Yet. “I want this to be so good for you.”

“It will. I know it will. I’m not worried, Kyle.”

“You said you haven’t had sex in three years,” he reminded her.

“Right. But it’s not like I’ve forgotten.”

Well, that was good. “But you’ve been scared of it.”

She nodded. “With anyone but you.”

He felt himself frown before he caught it. “I know it makes me kind of an ass to be glad you haven’t been with anyone else.”

Looking at her now, he absolutely couldn’t imagine another man ever touching her. She was his. That had never felt truer. Even when he’d been taking it for granted that he’d always have her.

It was crazy to be thinking that way, he knew. She was home to visit. This was…a fling? A fluke? Neither of those seemed right. And yet, how could this be anything more?

“I thought it was about my neck,” she said softly. “And it was. In part. But even going on dates felt weird.” She ducked her head. “It always felt weird being with anyone but you.”

He crossed the space between them quickly and tipped her chin up. “Good,” he growled, then he covered her mouth with his.

She gripped his shoulders, pressing close, and he groaned at the feel of her nipples against his chest. He lifted a hand and cupped one breast, rubbing his thumb over the tip. She gave a little half cry, half moan. He tugged and rubbed, then lowered his head and took the nipple in his mouth, sucking hard.

“Yes, Kyle,” she gasped, her hand going to his head and curling into his hair.

“You know those buttons and boundaries I want to push?” he asked, panting against her breast.

“Yeah.”

“I want to push right now.”

“Okay.”

He stepped back, somehow. “I want to watch you come.”

“Yes. Okay.” She reached for him, but he stepped back again.

“With your fingers first.”

She paused, as if needing to process his words. Then her eyes widened. “What?”

“Please tell me that in three years of no sex with anyone else, you’ve at least been getting yourself off,” he said.

She wet her lips and seemed to be contemplating her answer. Finally, she said, “Of course.”

He let out a breath. “Do you have a vibrator?”

She nodded.

“Damn, I want to see that too,” he practically muttered, his gaze raking over her body. He stepped in again and shut the dryer door. Then he reached past her and pushed the on button. The machine became to rumble under her and he watched her eyes widen. “Touch yourself, Hannah.”

She sucked in a quick breath. “Wha—what?”

“Touch yourself. Take that hand that I can’t wait to feel wrapped around my cock, and make yourself come.”

Her pupils dilated and her cheeks flushed. But it wasn’t embarrassment. He knew that. She was incredibly turned on.

“I’ve…we’ve…never done that,” she said.

He leaned in, took her wrist, and moved her hand between her legs. “Please.” He knew there was no way she could doubt how worked up he was. How much he wanted this. How much he needed it.

Hannah flexed her fingers and took a quick breath.

“Go on, honey,” he urged.

She moved her hand, running her middle finger up and down in the sweet folds between her legs. It was a gorgeous, hot, amazing, dream-come-true sight. And it wasn’t enough.

Kyle reached down and grasped one of her feet. He stretched her leg to put her heel up on the edge of the dryer, spreading her open. She gasped, but her hand kept moving, and the sight nearly buckled Kyle’s knees. He kept his hand on her foot, holding it there. She circled her clit, then ran lower, dipping just inside before moving up again, this time pressing harder on her clit, and he could see every bit of it.

“Damn, Hannah, that’s so fucking hot.”

That seemed to spur her on. She slid her finger deeper the next time, moving in and out a few times before returning to her clit. He groaned, watching her nipples grow harder and all of that beautiful pinkness glisten behind her hand. Her breaths were coming faster and her toes curled slightly as the machine continued to vibrate under her.

He felt himself squeezing her foot, but she didn’t seem to mind. He gripped his other hand into a fist at his side. He wanted so badly to touch her. To help. And he decided to tell her.

“You have no idea how badly I want to drive two fingers deep and feel all of that tight, hot, wet goodness,” he told her. “There’s no way you can understand how fucking amazing your pussy feels. I want to dive in there and not come up for years. I’m actually jealous you get to feel that gorgeous pussy clamping down on your fingers as you come.”

She gave a little whimper and her hand moved faster.

He couldn’t help it then. He reached up and pinched her nipple.

“Oh, God,” she moaned.

She needed to be warmed up before he took her—and he was about thirty seconds from saying to hell with it and doing just that. He needed to be sure she was ready and relaxed from at least one good orgasm. And this was a great time to take things up a notch between them. Whether this was a fling or a one-time thing or a…whatever else it might be…he wanted this to be different from how it used to be.

He leaned in, put his mouth against her ear and squeezed her foot, while tugging on her nipple. “Come for me, Hannah. I want you to feel what my cock’s going to feel in about two minutes. I want you to understand how all I really want is to be buried deep inside you. How nothing else—food, water, sleep, work—nothing else matters when I’m fucking you.”

She cried out at that and came with the most beautiful look on her face and his name on her lips.

She was still shaking as he grasped her hand and lifted her fingers to his mouth. He licked up and down her middle finger and then sucked on it hard. She moaned again at that, her eyes locked on his mouth.

“I wanted to do that the other night when you teased me with this,” he told her. “I remember everything about how you taste and smell and feel.”

He had let go of her foot, and she quickly shifted so that she could wrap her legs around his waist and pull him close. She kissed him, almost desperately.

In spite of the orgasm, it seemed she was just as worked up now as before. He struggled out of his jeans, loving the way she clung to him even when he needed both hands and a lot of twisting and yanking and jerking to get out of the wet denim. He added the jeans and his boxers to the dryer, still kissing Hannah through it all.

Finally, he took both of her hips in his hands—and then froze. He groaned and lowered his forehead to hers. “Son of a bitch.”

“What?”

“This is why being prepared for things is good,” he told her. “I don’t have a condom.”

“I’m on the pill,” she told him, tightening her legs around him. “I’ve always been on the pill, remember?”

She had, for bad periods. But they’d always used condoms too. “We’ve never—”

“I haven’t been with anyone else,” she interrupted. “And besides being the most careful person I’ve ever met, you’re also a doctor. I trust that you’re clean.”

He dragged in a deep breath and nodded. “I am.”

“Then no problem,” she said, digging her heels into his ass.

He cupped her chin and made her look directly into his eyes. “I’ve never had sex without a condom.”

A little shiver that was clearly desire went through her. She nodded. “I understand if you don’t want to.” But she dug her heels into his butt again and wiggled her hot, wet center against him.

Kyle cursed. “I’ve never wanted anything more.” His hands splayed over her ass and he squeezed. “God, I can’t say no.” She hesitated then for just a second. But he kissed her before she could say anything. “It has to be with you,” he said against her mouth after she’d melted into him again. “This is how it should be. Nothing between us.”

She moaned into his mouth and tightened her grip on him. And Kyle couldn’t hold back any longer. He pulled her forward on the dryer at the same time he flexed his hips, sliding into her.

He could tell she was holding her breath as she took him. He rested a hand on the back of her neck. “Easy, honey, I’ve got you,” he said, locking his gaze on hers.

She bit her bottom lip and nodded.

Moving slowly to let her adjust was the most exquisite torture. Her pussy gripped him like a hot, slick glove that was never coming off. He felt her muscles milking him even from the first thrust, and he knew it wasn’t going to last long.

“Hannah,” he said hoarsely. “You okay?”

“So good,” she breathed.

He loved, loved, that she had never been with another man, that all of this was his, and had always been only his. He felt a primal need to beat his chest, to crow to the world that he was the only one to ever know her like this, while also hugging her close and never letting anyone else even have so much as a smile from her. Both extremes were…well, extreme. And crazy. And completely unlike him. Kyle was unruffled, cool, collected, confident. Until it came to this woman. She’d made him feel things he not only was unfamiliar with, but that he half-loved and half-hated. He didn’t like feeling out of control. He didn’t like not being absolutely sure. He wasn’t extreme, he wasn’t crazy.

But this was Hannah.

That’s all the explanation he could really give. Or that he really needed.

He pulled back, sliding out of her tight sheath. He had to grit his teeth against the sensations of being bare inside of her. Holy shit, the friction and heat were so much stronger this way. And with his second stroke, Hannah McIntire ruined him for all other women.

“More,” she breathed against his neck.

“You sure?”

She smiled up at him. “You need me to take over?”

He grinned, surprised. “You think you can do better?”

“I can do faster,” she said, shifting against him, taking him deep all at once.

“God, Hannah.” And it was as much a prayer of thanksgiving as anything.

She moved back, and then, using her legs around him for leverage, took him in again.

“You’re playing with fire, girl,” he told her, trying to hang on to his sanity.

“Burn me, Kyle,” she said, looking into his eyes.

He groaned, and grabbed her thigh. He still held her neck too, and he used what tiny bit of rational-not-Neanderthal-caveman he had left to hold her gently there, supporting her head. Because they were getting really close to pounding territory.

He thrust in and out, watching her the whole time, taking in every detail of her reaction and gritting his teeth against the sensations streaking down his spine with every thrust. He was climbing toward his climax quickly, and he wanted her there with him.

“Hannah, honey—” But before he even finished the sentence, she clamped down on him with a cry.

He let go with a roar, coming harder than he ever had, emptying himself inside of her. The first time he’d ever done that with a woman. And it was the most blissful, I-can-never-go-back experience he could have imagined.

They slumped against each other, the dryer rumbling underneath her.

It was several minutes before Kyle could even lift his head off her shoulder.

Before he could figure out what exactly to say that didn’t come out as holy shit or please don’t ever leave, Hannah smiled up at him.

“Chalk one up for spontaneous,” she said.

He chuckled. “Don’t think for a second that I wouldn’t have written hottest fucking sex ever in my planner if I’d known.”

She shook her head. “Part of the hotness was that it just happened.”

“This didn’t just happen,” he told her, stepping back, the sensation of pulling out of her equally hot damn. “This has been building since you got back.”

She tipped her head. “Yeah. I mean I figured we’d sleep together. But I kind of thought there would be some scheduling, wintergreen breath mints, and some Tim McGraw involved.”

He watched her hop off of the dryer and grab a towel from the pile on the table to one side. She handed him one as well, then wrapped the huge, fuzzy yellow thing around her body. And he instantly wanted her uncovered again.

“Scheduling, wintergreen breath mints, and Tim McGraw?” he asked.

She laughed. “Sex always involved scheduling, wintergreen breath mints, and Tim McGraw.”

He frowned. But she was right. He’d always kept mints and condoms in his glove box, bedside table, stashed behind his video games in the basement, and had stuck some in the side pocket of Hannah’s purse. So they were never caught without. Of course, generally, they both knew exactly when it was going to happen. Thanks to the scheduling. Fortunately, he’d pretty much always had his iPod with him—and Tim McGraw’s greatest hits.

“I can’t even smell wintergreen without thinking of you,” she told him, watching him wrap the towel around his waist. “One sniff and I want to cry.”

That hit him right in the chest. He had hoped that she’d missed him. But hearing that she’d cried hurt now. Maybe because he now knew about her neck and her physical pain. Dammit. She was even making him feel bad about her feeling bad—something he’d hoped for even up until the other day.

He reached out and pulled her against him. “Well, now you can smell it, eat it, whatever again. Because I’m right here. Nothing to miss.”

She gave him a smile, but it wobbled at the corners, and he knew exactly what she was thinking.

For now.