Kayla always had a problem sleeping past six AM on the days the café was closed, and today was no exception.

She stretched, yawing, willing every muscle in her body to go lax.

True to his word, Bryce had only given her dinner and then a hot, albeit short, kiss goodnight.

It had been an odd date to have considering they’d already had sex, but it was also sweet. He’d been sweet. Attentive. If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear he’d been loving.

She did know better, and Bryce had a background in crisis training, which made him all the more appealing.

It also made him more dangerous.

Over a dinner of grilled steaks, baked potato, and a small salad, he’d shared stories about his job, about his family, and the time he’d dared his cousin to jump from the porch to the sand. The kid had jumped. So had Bryce. Only one of them had broken their arm.

The memory of his wry smile while he rubbed his left arm made her feel all warm inside.

Her phone buzzed. She rolled over in bed, smiling as she read Bryce’s text.

Surf’s up. Wanna come play at my house?

She glanced out of the window. Rain poured in buckets outside. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she replied.

Let’s have a movie day. My place. One hour.

Butterflies multiplied in her stomach as she waited for his answer. She didn’t know why. A simple date, and a third one at that, shouldn’t make her so nervous.

Thirty minutes. I’ll bring beer.

The butterflies began to soar.

***  ***  ***

The rain had stopped by the time Bryce pulled into Kayla’s driveway. He grabbed the beer and started up the walkway, remembering to lock the Jeep at the last minute.

“Back here,” he heard Kayla call out.

His brow furrowed, but he padded around to the back of the house. He unlocked the gate and stepped inside to a little piece of paradise. The grass was emerald green, flowers blooming, but the best part was the view—nothing but pure water.

He heard a door open and close, then Kayla join him. “It’s not the ocean, but I like it.”

“It’s peaceful.” Water rippled as a sailboat passed by. Pelicans flew low, in one straight line.

The wind blew through the low pine trees along the perimeter of her yard, filling his senses with her feminine scent. Her bare arm brushed his, and heat arced between them.

He wanted her. Bad

He’d been good last night. So good that he had to take things into his own hands as soon she left. It had been pure torture to rub her neck and kiss only the safe zones while forcing himself to go slow. To not slip his hand inside her barely there bikini top and pinch her nipples.

She looked up at him at the exact same moment he looked at her. Their gazes collided. His heart slammed against his chest. She sucked in a breath.

He reached for her. She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. He barely noticed the wood deck or the screened-in porch they had to go through first.

Inside, her house was warm. Inviting. Pale colors and lots of pillows. Just like her—soft and pretty.

“I don’t want you to be good, Bryce,” she said, taking the beer from him and setting it down.

“I’m trying to be anyway,” he replied. He was. He really wanted to be the guy she deserved. He blinked at that wayward thought, and then chalked it up to being a cop. Chalked it up to his training. Chalked up to everything but what it could actually be.

Kayla’s arms slid around his shoulders, her sweet breath fanning against his lips. “Then I’ll be bad enough for both of us.” She gave him a fleeting kiss and sank to her knees, her fingers trailing behind her.

He stood there in shocked amazement as she unbuttoned his shorts and slipped her hand inside. Pulling out his cock, she made a noise. “So hard, and we haven’t even gotten started.”

Bryce was pretty sure that was his line, only his adjective would be wet. Man, he hoped she was wet. He hoped that touching him like this got her hot and needy for him.

She licked the tip of him, and he slowly brought his hands down to tunnel into her hair. He wrapped thick curls around his fingers, rocking his hips forward to meet her hungry mouth. She licked him from the base to the head, and repeated the motion.

He cursed.

Her pink mouth wrapped around him once more, and he tightened his grip. “Don’t move. Let me go deeper in that pretty mouth of yours.”

She gazed up at him, her lashes black against the pale skin. Her tongue swirled around him in answer. He began to move, slowly at first, then as her eyes fluttered close and she began to make little noises in the back of her throat, he thrust deeper.

The hot suction of her mouth was nearly his undoing. He wanted to come so bad that it took every ounce of self-control to stay focused. He wanted to enjoy this. The last time he’d had a blow job this good was...well, never.

And that was the problem. Nothing was as good as Kayla.

He pushed her back, and the head of him came out of her mouth with a sexy little pop. “I wasn’t finished.”

“We’re not finished.” He scooped her up and glanced around the house, zeroing in on her bedroom. Stalking to the room, he laid her down in the middle of the bed and stripped her out of her short little shorts and baggy sweatshirt.

“No bra,” he said with an appreciative grin.

“Thought you might like that.”

With that same grin still in place, he undressed himself in no time flat and crawled up the mattress. Before he settled himself between her thighs, he took the time to just stare at her. At her sweet tits, rounded hips, and the flare of her waist. At the thin strip of light hair on her mound and the long legs that went on for days. He liked how she looked.

No, he loved how she looked. She was strong, the sleek muscles in her arms and legs attested to that. Looming over her, he caressed her from collarbone to thigh, over and over, until she was shaking and reaching for him.

Her mouth covered his as he positioned himself between her legs. His cock brushed her wet heat, and he groaned. “Condom.”

Shoving away from the bed, he snagged the condom from his pocket and hurried to put it on, never taking his eyes off the woman waiting for him.

She ran her hands down her body, cupping her breasts and playing with the nipples.

“Damn it,” he swore. He’d never seen a sexier sight.

Fingers tiptoed down her flat stomach, slipping in between that thin line of curls. Okay, now he’d never seen a sexier sight.

Grabbing her hips, he pulled her to the edge of the bed and wedged his shoulders between her thighs. Her fingers never stopped moving as she touched herself.

So he did what any man would do in this situation and helped her along. He teased her clit, tasted every part of her that he could get to, and kissed his way up and down each thigh.

He relished her whimpers, her full-on moans as she got closer and closer to orgasm. Her back bowed and he stood, positioned himself at her core, and thrust his cock inside. Slipping his hand under her ass, he brought her tight against him and began to work in and out of her.

She cried out his name, held onto his biceps, and writhed beneath him. Yeah, he knew how to make it good, but he could make it even better for her.

For them.

She rose up, grabbed him by the back of the neck, and pulled him to her. Her tongue sought his, her teeth nibbled, and her lips devastated. She kissed him hungrily, and he responded in kind. Somewhere along the way, she slipped off the edge of the bed, and they fell to the floor, laughing.

“Don’t be mad,” she gasped. “I’m not laughing at you.”

“Not laughing at you either.” He rolled her underneath him, bracing his arms along the side of her face, and slowed his thrusts.

She gazed up at him with so much emotion in those chocolate-colored eyes of hers that the sight took his breath away.

“Bryce,” she whispered and in that instant, something shifted.

He kissed her tenderly, all the ways a man should with the woman who owned him. Yeah, he recognized the fact that this woman, a woman he’d only known for days, owned a piece of him.