Tamsin practically choked when she caught sight of Sarge’s massive erection. Her ex-husband had been adequately endowed, but she didn't know that dicks came in size extra-extra large. The absence of even having a glimpse of a cock in so long had given her back her virginity anyway.

Sarge shut the door and crossed the floor, standing oh so close. Tension crackled between them, and all confidence she had mustered to attempt to flirt her way through the night evaporated. Her eyes studied his perfectly sculpted body and admired the ridges and valleys of his muscles. And, dammit, she couldn't help taking another peek that his package.

Her brain took an extra beat to catch up with her hormones. Tamsin realized how long she’d been staring, and heat burned in her cheeks. She let herself off the hook when she caught Sarge ogling her breasts and curves with the same intensity.

Clearing her throat, she caught his attention. “I don't suppose you have any extra clothes I could borrow?”

Covering their naked bodies needed to be the first order of business. Yes, Tamsin's body responded to him with a deeper desire then she'd experienced before. But fear trumped her awakening hunger, holding her back. She wanted to enjoy his company as much as he could until he left her. Like every man did.

Tamsin would prefer to lust after him on the sidelines rather than to step on the field and learn he didn’t want to play at all. No, not field. Hockey rink. She tipped her head, admiring his muscled perfect bubble buns flexing as he moved toward the bed to find his bag.

Sarge fumbled inside it. He tossed a T-shirt and a pair of shorts at her. “Will these do?”

She held the elastic-waisted fabric. Tamsin had never been a thin girl, but even she would fit into only one of the legs of the shorts. “I think these are a bit big. But the T-shirt will work like a nightshirt.” She slipped it over her head and inhaled the scent of sexy male and laundry detergent. Her mouth watered, and she wondered what the fragrance of a T-shirt he’d already worn might make wet on her body.

Sarge slipped on the same shorts she threw back at him but nothing else. “I run a little hot after shifting,” he explained.

Tamsin made no complaints, wondering if she’d get drunk taking advantage of his chiseled eight-pack abs. “So I guess that means we shouldn't light a fire?”

“No, a fire would be nice.”

Tamsin held back chuckles behind her hand as she watched him fumble around with the wood in the fireplace. He clearly had no experience in lighting one, and he wasted several matches.

“Shit. I guess I lose some guy points here. The fireplace at my condo is gas. How the hell do you light one of these things?”

She took pity on him, unable to let him flounder anymore. “Here, let me.” She took his place in front of the stone fireplace.

Stacking the wood in its proper order and adding some leaves and small kindling around the bottom, she struck one match. Orange and red flames sparked to life.

“Not your first time, I guess,” Sarge noticed with respect.

“When you grow up on Shay, you learn all types of things. I take it you were never in the Scouts?” Tamsin sat down on the nearby small couch.

He shook his head. “Nope. Group activities like that were never for me.”

“Says the captain of a pro hockey team,” she teased.

“Sports are different. Hockey especially. I could pound on my teammates whenever I needed to, and it didn't get me into trouble.”

“I guess that’s something you were familiar getting into?”

A cloud passed over his face. “Then and even now. Trouble seems to follow me wherever I go.” He stroked his beard for a second. “About that,” he said. “I guess I should apologize for tonight.”

Tamsin held up her hand. “If you're talking about what happened at the house, don't. I'm to blame for it all.” She recalled her fight with her sister. But losing her chance at kissing him hurt almost as much.

“I think it's high time you place the blame where it belongs,” Sarge countered. “Tonight wasn’t about you. Your sister has a mean streak in her.”

Her stomach sank at the mention of Everly. “Ever since she was little, she did things to hurt me. I'd hoped it would change when we grew up. Tonight's another fine example of how messed up our family is.”

Suddenly, staying in Sarge's presence didn’t seem like a good idea when all she wanted to do was crawl under the covers so that he couldn't witness any more of her embarrassment.

He closed the distance between them, standing in front of her. “Move,” he demanded.

Used to following orders, she immediately obeyed without thinking and scooted over to the corner of the small couch. She winced at her automatic compliance but tried not to show Sarge her deep-rooted issues.

The springs of the old piece of furniture creaked as he filled up the unoccupied space. To Tamsin's surprise, he reached down and picked up her feet, placing them in his lap. With perfect pressure, he massaged her foot, and her eyes rolled in the back of her head with an uncontrolled groan.

He squirmed underneath her feet. “Make a noise like that, and we’ll both be in trouble.”

His touch did things to her that she didn't know could happen. Hell, massaging her feet was the most erotic thing to happen to her in ages. If touching her there got her this excited, she might explode if his fingers explored anywhere else.

Sarge's gruff voice startled her from her fantasies. “I didn't want to, by the way.”

“What?”

“Kiss her. I didn't want to. I know what it must have looked like to you.” His eyes studied her.

“Like my sister had sneaked into the house, watched me turn down my chance to kiss you, and waited for me to return to the room so that she could kiss you in front of me, rubbing my nose in it. Is that about right?” Tamsin didn’t need to hold him responsible anymore.

Sarge’s eyebrows raised. “Yeah, that's about it.” Something like relief scrubbed the cloud away from his face.

The mood in the room lightened. Both of them sat in comfortable silence, watching the fire dance and enjoying the snaps and crackles of it.

Curiosity took the place of fear inside of her. Sarge had said he was in trouble a lot. A troublemaker didn't get to the top where he had achieved in life without some serious determination. She wanted to know more about him, maybe because he made her feel safe. Or maybe because she recognized a connection between them that had tethered him to her when they'd been running in the woods.

Tamsin mustered her courage. She pulled her feet away from his grasp and folded her knees, hugging them to her. “So what kind of trouble did you get into exactly?”

He scowled, but the cloud didn't return to his face. “I didn't fit in well where we lived. My dad had left us when I was little, and we were too poor to move anywhere else. My mom did the best she could, but we had to take a lot of charity from the local clan.”

“You belonged to a bear clan?” Tamsin’s ex had grown up in one as well.

According to him, he’d been the son of one of the strongest families. Born to be an alpha. She had questioned him once about why he had moved them to a town away from his clan. Tate made sure she never asked that question again. Still, Tamsin remembered some of the stories that he used to enjoy telling about the weaker families of the clan and how they were treated.

Without prompting, Sarge kept talking. “More than one of the single males tried to mate with my mother. But they saw her as nothing more than breeding stock. And not one of them wanted to deal with me.”

“I’ll bet you and your strength were seen as a threat more than an asset, right?”

He gazed at her in wonder. “Exactly. I had to learn fast how to fight and defend myself. And eventually, I learned how to strike the first blow to keep the others afraid of me. More than once I got suspended from school, which hurt Mom since she'd have to take the day off to come get me.”

“But you somehow graduated and got to college, so something went right along the way.”

Sarge focused on the flames. “Her name was Heather. She'd been a part of the clan and had always been nice to me. And at some point, I stopped fighting long enough for my hormones to catch up. By the beginning of high school, I wanted to be better. For her.”

“She was your first love,” Tamsin said. A thread of jealousy slithered into her heart, surprising her.

“You know, I even had to fight to date Heather. At first, we'd sneak out to see each other. But eventually, I didn't want to be the ugly secret she kept hidden. So I manned up and approached her father to ask to formally court her.”

Tamsin giggled. “How chivalrous of you.”

“I wanted to show them that I was worthy of being her mate. Her parents turned me down more times than I can count. But once they realized they couldn't stop us from seeing each other, they finally gave their blessing to me. Not publicly to the clan, mind you. But they did to me, and that was enough.

“For most of high school, things turned around. I stayed out of trouble and fights because I didn't want anything to take me away from her. I kept my grades up. I did better than ever in hockey.”

Having him open up so much to her and say more than a grunt and a couple of words thrilled Tamsin. “So you stopped fighting?”

“Hell, no,” Sarge admitted. “But all violence was taken to the ice. Since Heather's family was situated towards the middle of the clan, almost everybody saw our being together as a good thing. My mother even rose a couple of notches in rank. Not impressive when you have nowhere else to go but up when you're already scraping the bottom.”

Tamsin waited for him to work through his memories. She tried to picture him younger and calmer. Maybe even smiling. And how long had his happiness last?

After more minutes spent watching the flames dance, Sarge spoke again. “Things were good, and then I got to leave town, going to university on a scholarship while she attended the local community college. I did my best to keep in touch with her, but classes and practice got in the way a lot of times. She accused me more than once of cheating on her, saying I must have since I was a hockey star. But I never saw anyone but her. Never wanted anyone but her.”

“Distance can work against you in a relationship.” Tamsin did her best to sympathize, but Tate had never let her leave long enough to miss him. However, the separation from Shay Island and her family had left a gaping hole inside her.

“We did better when I'd come home over the summer, and things would be good for a short amount of time. But as soon as I went back to college, the accusations would fly all over again. During the winter break of my senior year, I'd already been scouted for the pros. I couldn't come home or wasn't supposed to, but I felt her slipping away from me. So I did something radical that risked everything for her.”

“What?” Tamsin sat on the edge of the couch in anticipation.

“I returned home one day instead of showing up for practice. I could have blown my spot on the team, ruined my future career. All because I went back to ask her to be mine.”

“You asked her to marry you?” She had no right to feel unhappy, but the thought of him being with another girl hit her in her gut.

He nodded. “For one night, I knew a piece of happiness that I've never experienced in my entire life. I would finally have a wife of my own and a chance at a real family. And with the prospect of going pro and making money, I could move her and my mom away from the town and the clan, starting over again on our own.”

“Sounds like you had a good plan. I’m guessing things didn’t go well.”

The glow of the fire lit his frown. “After I took Heather home and we told her parents, I went to the local bar to celebrate. Some of the other guys who’d never left town made it their business to rain on my parade. It didn't take long to find out that she’d been dating other guys while I was away. She’d accused me of cheating because she already was.”

Tamsin couldn't help herself. She reached her hand out to rub his back. “I’m so sorry.” She understood his overwhelming sense of rejection.

“That's not even the worst part.”

“What could be worse than finding out your girlfriend and temporary fiancée cheated on you?”

An oppressive darkness drifted over him. “Having your mother tell you that it's your fault. That you're the one to blame for ruining everybody's lives. That I would never be happy.”

Tamsin’s hand stopped moving. “Really? She said that to you?” she asked in a quieter voice.

He slumped over, placing his head in his hands. “She never got over the end of Heather and me. And ever since then, I stopped going home. You know, I still send her money so that she doesn't have to be reliant on the clan, but she won't leave.”

“You asked her to move to Seattle?”

He lifted his head and leaned back on the couch. “Offered to buy her a house and everything. But she hates me, so she stays.” He turned his head to look at her sideways. “See?” He pointed at himself. “Trouble.”

Scrambling across the couch and placing her hand on his cheek, she stroked his skin with her thumb. “No. Not trouble. Unfortunate, yes. But you’re not the problem. Sounds to me like you chose the wrong girl.”

Everything in her screamed to tell him to choose her and let her prove that she could be the right one. But she swallowed the sentiment.

He leaned into her touch and closed his eyes. That spark of desire inside of her burned into an inferno. She could make his hurt disappear and make them both feel better. And yet, she too had a habit of ruining things.

With a gentleness she didn’t know he possessed, he took her hand from his face and brought the back of it to his lips. Kissing each of her knuckles was as effective as if he licked her taut nipples. Her body hummed with sexual energy.

“Sounds like we both tend to blame ourselves for what others do to us.” The whiskers of his beard tickled her skin.

“So we have something in common,” she whispered, trying to gather her senses.

His lips kissed a slow path up her arm. “My instincts tell me that we have more than that in common.” He pulled the collar of the T-shirt aside, exposing more of her body. His hot breath blew against her shoulder. “Am I right?” he breathed.

She attempted to answer him. “I want…I want,” she stammered. You. Need you. Have to have you. His teeth grazed her skin, and she shivered.

“Tell me.” Sarge's mouth and tongue explored her neck. The edges of his whiskers bristled against her collarbone. He scented her with long, deep breaths. “You're in charge.”

Not once in her entire marriage had she been given that option. She hated Tate for that and then despised him even more for popping up in her thoughts at that very moment. Tamsin had never been able to ask for what she wanted. She didn't even know how to do that, did she?

Needing to start somewhere, she blurted out the first thing that came to her head. “I want you to kiss me.”

Sarge worked his way down her jawline and over to her mouth. He pressed his lips against hers, and the fear that had kept her isolated for so long crumbled. A warm, glowing center burned away her hesitation and any second thoughts.

He attempted to pull away to say something else, but she refused to let him go. Throwing her arms around his neck, she crushed her body against his, her tongue teasing along the seam of his lips. He parted them and plunged his own tongue into her mouth again and again, his gentleness a thing of the past. With a grunt, he adjusted their bodies so that he lay his body on top of hers.

The thin fabric between them acted as the only barrier between them. Tamsin wrapped her leg around his waist, giving him better access and pulling him as close as possible. Through his shorts, he rocked his impossibly hard cock against her engorged clit, and stars exploded as a tiny tremor of pleasure shook her body.

She squirmed underneath him to remove the T-shirt from her body so they could lie skin to skin. He tore the flimsy fabric apart with a loud rip. Not needing words, she grabbed him by the wrist and placed his hand on top of her needy breast. He rewarded her boldness by rubbing his dick against her sex at the same time he pinched her sensitive nipple, sending shock waves rippling across her entire body.

Sarge bit her bottom lip at her groan of ecstasy, a feral hum rumbling in his chest. Shifting positions, he attacked her breast, his whiskers abrading her skin and adding to its sensitivity. Not waiting for a command from her, his fingers traced a path down her stomach and between her legs.

He dragged a finger across her wet slit and circled her clit. Her body bowed against his, and she shut her eyes to bear the overwhelming sensation.

“Don’t deny yourself this. Feel it.” His tongue lapped at her nipple while his fingers teased her wet opening.

“I don’t know if I can take it,” Tamsin exhaled. The fire had nothing on the crackles and pops her body promised to make.

Sarge’s beard tickled her torso as he looked up at her. “You can. Trust your body. And trust me.”

He clamped his lips down on the taut bud of her breast at the same time he slipped a finger inside her. The muscles of her channel tightened around him, feeling every slide in and out.

It had never been like this for Tamsin. Sarge could make her come in seconds. He didn’t fumble against her or force himself upon her to focus on his pleasure. His shorts remained on, shutting off the path to his own release.

He made sure that every stroke might tip her over the edge. “Look at me, Tamsin.”

She shook her head back and forth, covering her eyes with the back of her arm, her breath faltering as she got closer and closer.

“Please.” Sarge's soft voice compelled her.

She peeked at him through her eyelashes as he filled her entire view. Expecting to see burning lust in his eyes, his adoring gaze caught her off guard. He didn’t just want her. He worshipped her, bathing her in his look of protection and admiration.

“Do you want to come?” he asked.

“God, yes,” she squeaked out.

He rubbed the heel of his palm against her clit and thrust his finger inside her. “Then do it.”

The first orgasm she’d experienced with a man in several years tore through her, stripping away the dark and blinding her in the light of bodily bliss.

Sarge didn’t stop touching her. “Fuck, I could come just watching you. I need to see that again.”

Tamsin tried to protest, but the words got lost when he added a second finger, dipping in and out of her at the right angles and pace. She’d hardly experienced one orgasm in a night. Two would have to be impossible. But the man who took care of her needs didn’t believe in the impossible.

“Don’t fight against yourself. Just feel.” He added one more finger and rocked his body on top of hers, giving her everything she needed to build to new heights.

She tumbled over with a scream of his name. Her body quaked against his, and she closed her eyes to ride wave after wave. He slowed the pressure of his fingers, resting them inside her slick core to feel every little quake.

Sarge rested his weight against her, kissing her mouth. “Sexy as fuck.”

Consumed by her sex haze, Tamsin brazenly gripped his wrist and pulled his hand up her body. The musk of her juices scented the air. She kissed the tips of his fingers, and then plunged each one into her mouth, cleaning them off with her tongue. So bold. So unlike her. And she loved it. For better or worse, her one night with Sarge would change her forever.

She tapped him on the back and wiggled underneath him to get him to move off her. “Take off your shorts,” she commanded.

He lifted his pelvis and slid the item of clothing off, his erection popping out and standing at extra-extra large attention. Doubt crept in, and Tamsin questioned if she could take all of him. Wanting to pay him back and enjoy him losing control, she chose a compromise.

Crouching down in front of him, she ran her hands up and down his legs. She pulled them wide, kneeling on the floor and bringing her body in close. A drop of precum glistened in the glow of the fire, and she licked her lips in anticipation.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sarge uttered, lust and amusement shining in his eyes.

“What I want. So sit back and enjoy.” She reveled in every second of the new and improved version of Tamsin. She’d make sure that by the end of the night, she wouldn’t be the only one changed.