She went rigid and lifted off him as far as his circling arms would allow. “I don’t believe it. Why would you bring them up right now?”

“Because, little tiger, I’m crushing your boxes-of-bad. I think you’ve still got them within easy reach, and I don’t want you to have access to them anymore.” She remained stiff, and he waited two moments until… yep, there goes the breathing. “We’ve still got a bit of stuff to deal with here, haven’t we?”

“No, it’s over.”

“I know that it’s over, but how’s your head? That was some frightening stuff you’ve been through. Again. Add that to the PTSD—”

“Whoa there, mister. Who said anything about PTSD?”

“Nobody had to. You forget the industry I came from. I can spot it a mile off, and you have it by the sack full. With the recent scene with Barrett, I’d say it’s all layered down quite nicely. You get nightmares?”

“Mind your own business.”

“Come on, I’m trying to help.”

Her face screwed. “I’d rather have a tooth pulled.”

“What about some counseling?”

She had the smile of a child about to ace a parent. “I’ve done it. Got the certificate.”

“What, an A-star for boxing up demons?”

“You’re leaving. You don’t get a say in this.”

“Yes, I do, because I care. And while we’re at it, I think you need to deal with your mother, because the rest of your life is going to really improve if you pull her out of your childhood memories, have a chat with her, and maybe forgive her a bit. Then put her to rest.”

Her eyes widened. “When did we invite Freud under the blanket? Huh? My mother! Are you insane?”

He smiled at her. “Just throwing a few ideas out there.”

“Your ideas suck. Do you know that?”

“I suck at a lot of things.”

“I know you do.” She laughed. “I’ve got first-hand experience.”

Her laugh shot straight to his groin, and, with the way she was positioned on top of him, there would be no hiding that, so what the hell. He lowered his hands, cupping her butt and pulled her hard against him. “You want fries with that, Miss?”

She leaned down over him, hovering above his mouth. As he lifted his head to meet her, she nipped his bottom lip and quickly pulled away. “That’s for being cheeky.”

“That’s promising. What do I get if I’m completely obnoxious?”

She pressed herself into him. “Try me.”

With the timing of a tactless neighbor, Fala rose, walked in a confused circle, and peered through the half-light at them with a “Do I know you?” look of aged canine bewilderment.

They both laughed and Marlo added, “It’s time to get her home.”

They pulled up to the completely dark house. “Don’t you have security lights?”

“A couple have blown bulbs. I haven’t had time to replace them.”

Adam exhaled. Don’t get mad. He went to the back of the car to help Fala out. “I’ll stick around until you get settled inside.”

“Adam?”

Oh, hell, here it comes. “Yeah.”

“You could stay, if you want.”

If he wanted. Every cell in his body wanted. But that would make it that much harder to leave in a couple of days’ time. “Hon…”

She gave her head that little shake. The movement was barely a tremor, but it practically screamed at him. “It’s fine. I shouldn’t have asked. Bye.”

“Stop, Marlo, you’re reading this completely wrong.”

“Probably, but right now I’ve humiliated myself, so I’d like to sit alone with my cup of stupidity, if you don’t mind.”

He caught her on the doorstep before she made it inside. “Listen to me.” He grasped her elbows. “I leave on Thursday. Let’s not make this worse for either of us.”

“Sure, okay.” She shrugged him off and reached through the door to flick the switch for the inside lights. The sudden harsh illumination made them both stop, as if the stark reality had only just hit them. “Thursday,” she whispered. “A couple more days…”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Uh-huh.” She watched her feet. “You’re right, Adam…as usual. If you don’t want to hurt me, you should stay away. I don’t do goodbyes, because I’ve never left anyone, but I’m getting the feeling they aren’t much fun. So…thanks for today. Goodnight.”

* * *

In twenty-two minutes, he was back in his apartment, being mocked by the home-furnishings catalog décor and a cold, empty bed. Only two more days. God, if he could get a flight now, he’d run like a coward and be at the airport in record time. And if he could get Mr. Common Sense out of his head, he’d move even faster and be back at Marlo’s house in record time. He made a bet with himself that if he showered and lay on his bed, he would crash in an instant.

Twelve minutes passed, and he was on his back and already bored with the ceiling panels. Somehow Marlo was right there, dominating the room she wasn’t even in. He started a reverse count from one hundred, hoping that would anesthetize him from all the thoughts of her, of wanting to be in her space and sharing her air, because doing that seemed to put a happy spin on his life.

And she doesn’t do goodbye.

And, hell, who was he kidding? Sharing her bed, touching her, tasting her, making her laugh. Making her laugh…that sure kicked his second brain into action, and it seemed suddenly that was the brain he could give some respect, for now. He leaped from his bed and pulled on a pair of cargo shorts, his favorite worn black Henley and a pair of battered Converse shoes.

What the hell, go for gold. He grabbed an overnight bag and threw in some spare clothes and toiletries. And condoms? Why not? Dog Haven was an inconvenient distance from a convenience store.

A little more than an hour after he left, he was parking once more outside Marlo’s house. The place was in darkness, which for some inexplicable reason made him tread quietly to the porch. If he found the front door unlocked, he really would have to give her the security lecture. He reached toward the handle, and the door opened before he touched it.

“What took you so long?” Marlo stood backlit by a light from another part of the house. The soft chiffon cami she wore was almost transparent and reached to an inch above her hips, where it exposed an enticing gap of creamy skin between that and her gorgeous little hiphugger panties. Her hair was tousled, and he wanted to weave his fingers through it, now, in the doorway.

Adam took two steps inside, dropped his bag, and kicked the door closed behind him at the same time reaching for her. “Your nipples are hard.” His voice was gruff.

“My nipples are cold.”

“Let me warm them for you.” He closed the last little bit of space between them and backed her up against the wall. When he put his mouth on hers, he recognized her taste that he loved so that he, too, wondered what had taken him so long. His body pressed against hers, all warm and soft, and his knee shifted up and between her thighs as he lifted his mouth away.

He took one quick breath to wrangle his voice. “Are we both on board with this? Do we need time to think before carrying on?”

Marlo slowly ran her tongue along her bottom lip, as if considering the taste of him before answering. “No, no thinking.”

He tucked himself into her neck and inhaled her heady scent. He got something floral—honeysuckle—and that made him think of summer at home. Of nipping off the end of the flower, drawing out the stamen and licking the dewdrop of honey that appeared. He inhaled again, and it made him want to take one bite of her, for entrée.

She trembled a little against him when he asked if she’d showered and, if she had, would she mind getting all hot and sweaty, so that she would want to shower again.

He pressed back to her, using his hips to hold her in place, his hands set against the wall on either side of her shoulders, caging her in.

“Your cock is hard,” she whispered to him.

He bent to her ear. “You can warm it for me.” He nipped her earlobe, hearing the soft whimper before working his way around to that little hollow in her neck right behind her jaw. He bit her neck, eased the sting with his tongue, and her whimper turned into a louder moan. The sound stormed through him, hollering at his nerves, dilating blood vessels along the way.

He backed up. “Bed, now, before I take you here against the wall.”

She grinned as she reached down and peeled her cami over her head and leaned back against the wall. She grabbed two handfuls of his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss, pausing to speak against his mouth. “Here, against the wall. I want to remember you in every room of the house, so that when you’re gone and I walk around, I blush.”

Ah, hell, she was killing him. He moved back in, teasing her lips with his tongue before dipping into an intense and hungry stay-right-there kiss. His fingers tangled into her hair as he pulled her in deep, then deeper again. He wanted her like he wanted a guarantee that summer would always follow spring, and right at that moment he acknowledged that thing that niggled, that thing he’d been trying to ignore.

His heart was in dire trouble.

Pulling away from the kiss, pausing, forehead to forehead, grabbing for a better breath, he eased her grip from his shirt and set her hands at her sides against the wall.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. Taking two steps back, he studied her while he dragged together some self-control. No hurry. Slow it down. The light from the other room caused a low illumination that mingled with the moonlight and washed her skin with a blue-tinged hue. Oh, hell, her breasts. Her nipples were taut with expectation, and he sucked his tongue hard against the roof of his mouth as he recalled how they’d peak when he drew them in.

She raised her hand, reaching to him.

“Don’t move,” he repeated. “I want to look at you and when I’ve finished, I’m going to give you something to blush about.”

The sight of her front on, leaning there against the wall with her chin lifted and defiant, imprinted in his memory so that if he closed his eyes she would appear. He ignored the intense discomfort and begging from his cock as he took his time studying her. When she began to fidget beneath his scrutiny his pleasure soared. Impatient little tiger.

“Adam?” her voice was a harsh whisper.

“Turn around and face the wall.” He watched the confusion ripple across her face. “I like looking at you and want to remember all of you, in this entranceway, standing in just your panties, waiting for me to take you.”

In the low light, he could imagine the soft pink flush heating her cheeks. A moment later, he reminded her that he was waiting.

She turned slowly, with such grace, his breath snagged as he beat down a moan. Jesus, he had scarcely touched her.

He studied the gentle sweep of her back, the nip of her waist, the curve of her buttocks. Her hair fell past her shoulders in a tumble of messy bedtime curls and he watched the quickening rise of her ribs as her breathing became faster and shallower. He paused a little bit and savored the anticipation before stepping close to her, deliberately staying inches from touching. “You all right there?” he asked softly.

“Yeah.” She nodded.

“Control your breathing. Deep, slow.”

She nodded again, and he waited to be certain her breath changed. As it slowed, he reached for her hair and shifted it so it hung over the front of her right shoulder. Using one finger, he tracked the line from shoulder to shoulder, and she trembled. “God, you’re beautiful.” He exhaled, realizing his own breathing needed some control. Then he traced the same path with his tongue, blew along it and drew back to watch her shiver. “Still okay here?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good girl.” He moved back and gathered her hair together and wound it into one tight coil around his fist before lifting it high to her head, exposing her neck. He placed his mouth on the nape of her neck and kept it there on her warm skin, tasting her, feeling her heat, staying on that spot until she shuddered. Using his lips, tongue, and teeth, he leisurely made his way down her spine, awakening every nerve on his journey. He released her hair and spanned her hips with both hands, thumbs pressing into those two indentations at the top of her buttocks as he kept her against the wall. She was squirming now beneath his mouth, and he pulled away. “Stay still, honey.”

He reached for the top of her panties and before even moving them, could smell her arousal. In one deep breath, he inhaled her sweetness and musk before lowering her panties down her legs. “Step out,” he ordered, and as she raised her feet, he caught each one and kissed them on the instep, before removing the underwear completely. He stepped back and looked. “So freakin’ beautiful, Marlo.”

“Can I—”

“Shhh, don’t move.” He bent and ran his fingers from her ankles up to behind her knees. She dipped a little and stood tall again. “Nice,” he whispered. Gradually he ran his fingers up the backs of her thighs and smiled as she sucked in her breath, raising herself onto her toes. He bent into her ear. “Ticklish?”

“Yup.” She nodded.

“Control it.”

“Please, you’re killing me.”

“I’ve hardly started. Now, take a step back and bend over for me a little. Rest your arms up against the wall.” He waited while she got comfortable before he stepped back close to her. “Open your legs a bit wider for me, honey.”

She shifted her legs further apart, and he placed a leg between hers, nudging her foot with his until he had her in exactly the right place. He trickled the fingers of one hand back down her spine and stroked across her buttocks. The way they curved as she stood bent forward to the wall, made him harder than he could ever remember. With one hand a steady grip on her cheek, he held her in place, while the other he used to reach between her legs.

She stilled.

His fingers stroked over swollen labia, feeling her soft heat, playing her. Finally he parted her, sliding two fingers between her swollen, glistening lips.

Her hips jerked, and a small huff of breath left her as he stroked her, just once, then moved his hand back to her hip. “You’re very wet, Marlo.”

She nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Every time you leave or enter the house, I want you to blush when you think about standing here against the wall with your pussy getting all wet, wondering exactly what we’re going to do.”

“I’m blushing now.”

Oh, she knew how to heat things up. He stepped back in between her legs again, back with his fingers stroking around her clit, but not ever touching. He continued the stroking while he reached up with the other hand and gently brushed her nipple with his thumb. She pushed into his hand, asking for more, but he pulled off her, teasing.

“Adam, no, not this.”

“Not what?”

“The teasing thing. Don’t tease me.”

“What do you want?”

“You. I want you in me. Hard. Now.”

He reached back for her and swirled his fingers around her clit, slipping down into her pussy, spreading her wetness around until she moaned his name, bearing down on his fingers. That almost did him in. He pulled away quickly, ripping the shirt over his head while undoing his shorts, stepping out of them in two steps as he went for his bag. He grabbed a condom, dropping it once and needing three tries before managing to get the packet open. With a steadying breath, he rolled it on and returned to stand behind Marlo.

He swept his hands across her buttocks before stepping up to her. Pressed between her legs, he smiled when she gasped and pushed back against him. He gently nudged her clit with the tip of his cock, pulling back and driving forward again in a slow and steady slide. Her breath was ragged, interspersed with little gulps and groans that were going to be the end for him. Leaning in, he lay across her back, his mouth against her ear. “Ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready,” she whispered.

With one hand, he eased his cock into her, almost losing it when her hand covered his, to guide him.

“Right there,” she moaned and nestled against him.

He released himself and reached to her front, drawing his hands from her hips, across her ribs, and over the curve of her breasts. “God, Marlo, your nipples are so hard and tight.” When he took them between his thumb and fingers she arched into him, and her pussy contracted around his cock.

Damn, he needed some control but Marlo was already taking him harder and faster. He dropped his forehead to her shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut as he searched for something to ease this exquisite pleasure. Finally he took hold of her hip, trying to stave her off, to make it last longer. He went to her ear, “Let’s slow it down, hon,” and as soon as his words were out, he heard her groan, incoherent, long and deep. Shit, that ear thing really kicked it up a notch for her.

“Adam, I want you. Now.”

He pulled almost all the way out of her. “Are you sure?”

“Please,” she was panting, and he could feel a small tremor set up through her body. He went back to her ear as he pushed hard into her, his tongue introducing the same urgent rhythm as his cock.

“Let’s go now, little tiger,” he spoke up by her cheek before pulling back a bit, taking her earlobe into his mouth. Rougher now, fuelled by their combined need, his fingers searched between her legs and firmly circled her clit. Before the minute was up, she was coming.

The cry of his name from her took him by surprise and gripped his heart, pulling him right over with her. As her legs weakened, he swept his arm under her waist, holding her hard against him as he climaxed.

He rested his elbows against the wall, still connected to her, as their gasps for air filled the silence. With effort, he pulled away so she could turn to face him, both of them still relying on the wall for support. God, her eyes. He had to tear himself away from that look, so raw, so bare and brutal.

I can’t leave this.

Finally he squeezed his eyes shut to break the connection. He couldn’t help but cover her mouth with his, kissing her as though he could only breathe through her.

At last he lifted his head. Reaching to clear a damp tendril of hair from her face, he questioned, “You okay, hon?”

“Yeah, very” she smiled, weak and satisfied. “How about you?”

“I’m going to live.”

“Good to hear.”

“I fucking adore you.” Shit, how did that escape?

He adored her and, God, that feeling was mutual and frightening, because somehow they were going to have to find the strength to turn their backs on each other and walk away. For the meantime, though, she would accept every minute of pleasure he offered.

Adam led her to the bathroom and they showered, taking time to wash each other but otherwise not talking much. His words hung between them like a piece of astonishing news they still had to accept. But he wasn’t backing off, or trying to minimize their power, and Marlo wouldn’t, either.

After, they lay in bed, and she could feel his warm sleepy breath against her neck. He was settled into her back, one arm holding her against him, his palm covering her breast. She tried to create a physical memory of this moment, of exactly how their bodies interlocked, of the contentment she felt, so that if she needed to, she could retreat to this point when she was alone. And everything would be fine.

Or not.