Rick never took anything for granted. Growing up the way he had, he appreciated everything positive that came his way. He was sitting in the backseat of a car and Sloane O’Toole was inviting him to prove himself.

It was his fantasy sprung to life and he was going to make her so very pleased she had sent him that text.

The text he was going to screen shot and save as a trophy.

He reached out and ran his thumb over her full bottom lip. He wanted to kiss her, but he was patient. It could wait until they were alone. Hell, he’d waited over a dozen years for this. “Let me get the door.”

He opened the car and got out. He thanked the driver as Sloane slid out the same door he had exited. Her long legs in those tight jeans were an amazing thing. He felt a hint of guilt over Sullivan. They’d been best friends a long time and Sullivan clearly did not want him hooking up with Sloane. But hell, he was twenty-eight and Sloane was thirty. A grown-ass woman. She could do what she wanted.

Sullivan wasn’t thinking right, anyway. He was drinking and fucking his way through Beaver Bend, angry at the world. Maybe it was as simple as he didn’t want anyone else having fun right now. Besides, what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

And maybe this kiss would go nowhere. Maybe it would be a pleasant kiss that would end there. But he had spent his adult life reading women and Sloane had made the decision to have sex with him. He could see it on her face, in her body language. It was sexual determination that if the kiss went well, she wanted him in her bed.

Which meant he was getting everything he wanted without any dating to confuse the situation. He had found that out the hard way. You take a woman out on a legitimate date, she has expectations. For obvious reasons.

This was basically the world’s most perfect scenario.

Sloane. No strings attached. Perfection.

He zipped his jumpsuit up and down methodically, wanting to touch Sloane with every bone in his body but not wanting to give the neighbors a show. In a small town there was always talk. He was notorious for bed hopping. It wasn’t something he was ashamed of at all. He and every woman he had been with had both been willing partners, with a mutually satisfying conclusion.

But this was different.

This was Sloane.

Which he had to admit, gave him pause even though he didn’t want it to. It was perfect. But… she had been drinking and he did not want her to regret anything tomorrow. His conscience started to work on him. Damn it. He’d have to proceed with caution.

“How long are you in town for?” he asked her. “Is this a temporary thing until Sullivan regroups?” He already knew it wasn’t. He’d seen the lease she had signed because his sister forwarded all electronic documents of importance to him. It had been a twelve-month lease. He wondered if Sloane knew that he owned the building and, behind the LLC name on the lease, was technically her landlord.

Sloane stopped in front of the door to the apartment building and turned to him. “I plan to stay here forever this time.” She tilted her head to the sky. “God, it’s beautiful out tonight, isn’t it? It’s the absolute perfect temperature.”

“It is perfect tonight.” But all he saw was her. She had grown even further into her beauty, something he couldn’t have imagined at fifteen. He’d thought she was perfect then. But now she moved less self-consciously, with a simple confidence instead of the haughty veneer of her teen years. She had long cheekbones, full lips, and wide, luminous eyes the color of the lake in the summer. A deep, murky blue. She’d allowed her hair to relax in gentle raven waves now, unlike the stark, pin-straight style she’d had before. Everything about her seemed softer, gentler.

Yet that signature sassiness was still there.

“You are a shameless flirt,” she told him. “But I like it. For tonight, I like it.”

“Tonight is all that matters,” he said, and he meant it. “Now let me kiss you under the moonlight.”

“Do what you need to do.” Her tongue came out and slipped over her bottom lip.

Rick fought the urge to groan. She wasn’t wearing lipstick, her makeup simple and neutral. He moved in closer to her, enjoying the way her eyes widened a little. He put his hand on the door, over her head, slightly to the right. The movement brought his chest closer to hers and she pressed herself back against the steel door as he invaded her space. She was nearly his height, with him only a few inches on her. It allowed them to gaze at each other, Rick taking in every one of her features, studying her gorgeous and expressive eyes.

He had a hard cock already and he hadn’t even touched her.

“I definitely need to do this,” he said, and he lowered his mouth to hers.

Before his lips completely touched hers, he heard her soft sigh of pleasure and it made him even harder.

The kiss did not disappoint. It was everything he remembered, but turned up. It was an adult kiss, with all the ease and skill of his years of experience. In high school, it had been chemistry. Just raw, unexpected chemistry as their mouths had moved over each other.

Now it was everything.

Sloane leaned in to him and it was a hot, scorching kiss. A perfect fit.

With his free hand, Rick reached up to Sloane’s neck and cupped her to bring her forward, even closer. He wanted their bodies brushing, touching. Her breasts teased against him as he eased his fingers into her hair at the nape of her neck. She smelled like lavender. She tasted like mint and tequila and the sugar sweetness of the syrup in her mojitos. It was amazing.

The kiss didn’t end. It went on and on, pouring over them like honey out of the jar. Warm and delicious, desire rising in him with a slow simmer. It wasn’t urgent or desperate, but deep and persistent.

When he finally pulled back, but staying firmly in her space, she let out an exhalation of air.

“You’ve been practicing that, haven’t you?” she asked, teeth sinking into her bottom lip in a way that made his cock throb.

He gave her a smile. “Yes. Hours and hours of dedication.”

Sloane pushed on his chest just slightly, so he shifted backward. “It paid off.”

Basically, that was better than winning the lottery. But he was entertained by her reluctance to say she enjoyed it. “You’re not going to admit you liked making out with me in the bathroom, are you?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m not. Save your breath.”

“For what?”

Sloane didn’t answer. She just dug in her purse for her keys, then turned and opened the exterior door. It was a small building, just four units total. She didn’t say goodnight but she didn’t invite him in either.

He got a fabulous view of her ass climbing the stairs in front of him as he stood in the open doorway, still at street level.

“What are you doing?” she asked him, glancing back at him over her shoulder.

“Waiting for you to tell me what you want from me. Send me home or invite me in, Sloane.” He wasn’t the guy who was going to push what he wanted. Not with any woman but definitely not with Sloane. She was his best friend’s sister. He also wanted to delay the moment when she realized he lived directly across the hall from her.

Sloane looked flustered. “Oh. Wow, I suck at flirting, don’t I? I’m out of practice.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

She nodded, slowly. “Yes. I want you to come in, Rick.”

He took one step then he said, “Tell me this before I come up there. On a scale of one to ten, how drunk are you?” He did not want her to wake up with a pounding head and a shitload of regret.

“What is one and what is ten?” She clutched her keys and stared down at him, her hair tumbling forward, expression amused.

“One is you could walk a tightrope suspended between two skyscrapers. Ten is there is a high probability you’ll end the night over the toilet and won’t remember any of this tomorrow.”

She cocked her head and smiled. “I think I’m a four. I couldn’t walk a tightrope but I could walk a straight line. And actually even stone cold sober I couldn’t walk a tightrope. Will I remember this? Yes. I can one hundred percent guarantee that.”

That was very good news. He took another step up. She didn’t look or sound particularly drunk so he was reassured she was in control.

“What are you on your one to ten scale?” she asked.

“A two.” He hadn’t drank that much and what he had, he had danced off.

“So no whiskey dick?”

That made him pause, caught off-guard. He laughed. “No whiskey dick.”

“Is that really a thing?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

Damn, she was so sexy. Rick took two more steps. “I wouldn’t know. It’s never been an issue for me. And with you? I can give you a one hundred percent guarantee I will be hard as a fucking rock.”

Her eyes widened. “You sound very confident.”

“Oh, I am.” He took another step. There were eight steps in total and he was halfway to her. Halfway to the woman who had plagued his teenage dreams and had made him hard with just one kiss at the door. He felt like he was stalking her, and maybe he was. But he wanted Sloane like he’d never wanted another woman.

“Can you promise me something?” she asked.

The stair treads creaked beneath his weight. “I can’t promise you I will hold back, no.”

Even in the dim light of the hallway he could see her cheeks turn pink. She laughed softly. “No. I want you to promise you won’t tell Sullivan. Even though it’s none of his business, I don’t want to upset him.”

Shit. He did not want to think about Sullivan. He wasn’t sure why Sullivan had been so pissed but he clearly had been. He was on the same page as Sloane and he didn’t want to waste time talking about her brother. “I don’t kiss and tell.” He took the last two steps and cupped her cheeks with his rough palms. He kissed one corner of her mouth, then the other.

She sighed and leaned into him, her voice a soft murmur. “And this is just one night, right? It won’t be weird or complicated or awkward?”

Rick wasn’t one for overthinking it, but Sloane clearly was. He didn’t think she’d been like that in high school but she was fresh off a divorce. It occurred to him he might be the first guy she had been with since her split and that was hot as hell.

“One night. Nothing weird or awkward.” He stroked her hair back from her cheeks. He was one step below her which put them right about at eye level.

She nodded, like she was reassuring herself. “Perfect. Tonight, then we never talk about this ever again.”

“If that’s what you want.” It was more than he had ever expected from Sloane. “So what are you doing here, work-wise?” he asked, curious. Last he’d heard, she hadn’t worked in Minneapolis. Which seemed boring as fuck to him, but then again, he’d never aspired to be a trophy husband. It wasn’t in his DNA. He’d been taking care of his father and his little sisters as long as he could remember, and had started working at fifteen.

But Sloane smiled at him. “Didn’t I just say no small talk? I’m not here for the conversation.”

Damn. “Okay, then. Understood. Use my tongue for better purposes.”

Sloane gave him a look that made him want to throw her against the nearest wall. “Exactly,” she said. “Let’s just say I’ve been underserved in that capacity in recent years. If you catch my drift.”

Oh, he caught it. He wasn’t sure whether to punch Tom Kincaid in the fucking face for neglecting Sloane’s needs or to thank him. “I’m your man,” he told her, keeping his tone easy, casual.

As she opened the door to her apartment, she gave him a bemused head shake. “Never thought this would be happening. Me and Little Dickie.”

He wasn’t even offended by the stupid nickname. She could call him whatever the hell she wanted as long as she was naked for him. “Life takes some strange twists and turns.”

“That it does.” Sloane stepped inside. “Come on in.”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. But he had thought it would be put together, like Sloane herself. She’d always been the cool girl. Yet she had just moved in, so he wasn’t sure why he thought she would be fully unpacked. It was a jumble of boxes and furniture. Chaotic in a way that instantly gave him a sense of claustrophobia.

He lived in defiance of the way he had grown up, with a full-blown hoarder for a father. He gave new meaning to the word minimalist. Every single item in his apartment was utilitarian. It was stark and maybe even a little cold. Except for River’s room. He let her do whatever she wanted in there, which usually involved lots of stuffed animals and trinket jewelry.

“Sorry for the mess,” she said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve moved. I forgot how much work it is.”

He wanted to ask her what had gone wrong in her marriage, but it was none of his damn business and he knew that. “No worries. I’m not here for the décor.”

“I guess not,” she said, leaning against the wall and bending down and removing her sandals.

He took that as a hint and toed off his work boots. He followed her into the living room but then she dropped her purse on the coffee table and said, “I’ll offer you a drink but I’m not going to sit here and have a conversation. I want you to just take me into the bedroom. Now.”

What the hell was he supposed to say to that? Other than fuck yeah. “I can do that.” That struck him more as the Sloane he remembered. She took what she wanted. “If you’re sure this is what you want.” Now why the fuck did he say that? God, sometimes he hated himself. He was too much of a nice guy. It might nearly kill him, but he could walk away if Sloane had any doubts.

But she shook her head. “I’m sure.” She gave him a grin. “And it better not suck.”

That didn’t worry him. It just made him laugh. Damn, she was just as bold as he remembered. “I told you, I offer a one hundred percent satisfaction guarantee.”

“I could have used that on my last car I bought. I’ve just never had a hookup in my life and I don’t know the rules. Am I being too aggressive?” She didn’t look upset. More like a little amused with herself.

That made his heart squeeze. He had never in a million years thought he would be the one reassuring Sloane. “You’re not being too anything. Just be you. That’s why I’m here. Because you’re you.” Rick took her hand and tugged her closer to him. He brushed her dark hair off her cheek and caressed her soft skin. “There are no rules. It’s all about having fun, feeling good.”

“Fun. What an interesting concept. I might have forgotten how to do that.”

“You looked like you figured out how to on the dance floor tonight.” Rick kissed the corner of her mouth. Then the other. She sighed. He ran his lips along her jawline, teasing up to her earlobe. “You’re so beautiful.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Her voice had softened, notched down to just above a whisper.

Rick pulled back just enough so he could cup her cheeks and give her a soft, lingering kiss. “I’m going to take you to bed now.”

She nodded, clearly confident in her decision. “I’d like that.”

Lowering his arms, he reached around behind her tight ass and hauled her up against him. Then he lifted her up off the ground and threw her over his shoulder. Sloane shrieked.

“What the hell? What are you doing? I’m too tall for this!”

Her hair dangled down over his back and she attempted to swat at his ass.

“You are not too tall for anything.” He started walking in the direction of the bedroom. He knew the layout well since he’d owned the building for two years. Sloane felt light and leggy in his hold. It wasn’t a huge effort on his part to carry her. He’d done a lot of time in the gym and Sloane was thin. “You don’t want conversation. I don’t want complaining.”

That earned him a whack on his ass.

Rick grinned. “I would watch where you smack me if I were you. Turnabout is fair play.”

She sounded more turned on than indignant. “So what does that mean? I get to throw you over my shoulder?”

That made him laugh. “If you can do that, I will sign you up for American Ninja Warrior.”

With that he strode into her bedroom and dropped her sexy little ass on her bed.

She gave him a smirk. “Like I said my flirtation skills are rusty but what popped into my head is that you are a wall I’d like to climb.”

Rick didn’t think she’d forgotten how to drive a man crazy. “On a scale of one to ten I give you a six for that one.”

“A six?” she asked, sounding indignant as she leaned back on her elbows and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Why? And what is with you and your one to ten scales?”

“You get a six because you’re sexy as hell but that was almost as corny as my lines.”

“Then we’re back to no talking, you Magic Mike wannabe. So shut up and kiss me.”

“I can do that.”

The question was where did he kiss her first?

---

Sloane couldn’t believe Rick had been capable of carrying her like that. It was not an easy position to throw a woman into, plus she was leggy. His arm strength was seriously sexy. She had been bouncing a little, but not uncomfortably so. It was just odd, and intimate.

And yet… she liked it. It was very alpha. Very masculine. Very boy meets girl, boy wants girl. Boy captures girl.

Her marriage had been nothing like that.

So when Rick brought her down onto her bed with a slight bounce and moved over her, she felt a little shiver of anticipation. This was good stuff.

She would not call herself shy or insecure for the most part. But holy hell, it had been ten years since she’d kissed another man and that was about nine and a half years too long. Kissing Rick was eye-opening. And awe-inspiring.

Then when he’d thrown her over his shoulder?

Forget it. She had almost had an orgasm on the spot.

Manly. That’s what he was and what she had been missing from her life.

When you marry your gay best friend without realizing it, the chemistry is off. To say the least.

Now in the darkened room Rick was unzipping his work uniform down to the waist. He reached over and flicked on her bedside lamp, giving her a look that made her nipples harden.

“I want to see you, Sloane.”

She blinked but didn’t really mind the light. It was soft, and she felt far too old to be fumbling around in the dark. She was nervous but that was just because this was impulsive and it had been so long since she’d been with another man. But not shy.

Rick was hot and she might as well enjoy the view. There was nothing of the goofy teenager left in him. He had been more than compensated for those awkward years by what God gave him later.

If he said he was God’s gift to women she wasn’t even sure she would argue.

“Where do you want me to kiss you?” he asked.

“I have options?” The look was heady. “Well. Let’s just pick up where we left off.”

Her bedroom was dark and quiet. She kept the blinds tightly closed because despite it being a small town, her apartment was in a busy area. She wasn’t used to being so close to neighbors or streetlights. In Minneapolis she and Tom had bought a big house in the suburbs so her dog had room to run. Or more accurately, Tom had bought a big house.

Dang it. Now she was missing her dog all over again.

This entire night was nothing but an emotional jerk-around.

That was the last year in a nutshell.

Rick climbed on her bed. The creaking of the mattress seemed loud in the still night air.

Just seeing him moving toward her, his chest bare, expression intense and sexual, had her nipples tightening with anticipation. She wasn’t sure she’d ever experienced lust at first sight the way she had with Rick when she’d seen him on stage. Having been married for so long meant she hadn’t been looking and before that, she’d been a teenager. Making out had been fun, not something that inspired a deep wet ache between her thighs.

Except when Rick had kissed her in the bathroom.

Crazy.

Now he was going to kiss her again and she shivered. Legit shivered. It was almost embarrassing.

Rick eased his hand into her hair, drawing it back away from her face. He had those rough large man hands. She’d never been touched by hands like that. It made her feel delicate, something her height didn’t usually allow her to feel.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. “I’ve thought so since I was twelve years old. Just gorgeous.”

It wasn’t a line. She had known in high school he had thought she was hot. He’d followed her around like a panting puppy, trying to get her to laugh. Maybe knowing Rick, knowing he was speaking the truth, touched her. She wasn’t always great at accepting compliments—O’Tooles didn’t like positive emotion any more than negative emotion—but Rick’s words made her feel warm inside.

“Thanks. I think you already know what I think of you.” In fact, Sloane wanted to explore that chest. The hard, muscular, golden chest. She spread her palms over his warm flesh and did just that.

“I do. You think I’m a hottie.” He grinned at her.

Sloane pushed his chest. “No. I think you’re obnoxious.”

“Liar.”

“Shut up and kiss me.” Sloane wanted to have the confidence to kiss him herself. To take what she wanted. But she had been out of the game too long to have any choreography. She felt off-kilter and she wanted him to take charge.

It seemed to be all the encouragement Rick needed. He moved over the length of her body, his palm down on the mattress framing her head in on one side. He lowered his head. She parted her lips automatically. She tried to keep her eyes open, wanting to see his eyes but when his lips touched hers her lids drifted shut without conscious thought on her part. She just wanted to feel. To experience this moment of sensual, soft touch.

He knew how to kiss.

There was no awkwardness. He was smooth, like whiskey, feathering kisses over her lips, in each corner of her mouth, then full on. It was soft, but she wouldn’t call it gentle. It was seductive. A dance. His hand ran down her side and back up again, brushing against the side of her breast. Sloane heard herself gasp at that brief contact. She wanted to grab him and shake him and demand he just take her, hard. But she reminded herself in her head over and over that he knew what he was doing more than she did, so she had to let Rick do his thing. The one hundred percent satisfaction guarantee would be void if she rushed him.

When his tongue teased over her bottom lip she gave a small sigh.

Then he bit her lip. Not hard, just a playful nip and she felt it reverberate through her body. A hot sharp tingle that spread out and landed deep inside her. Nothing this small should feel this good. She wasn’t sure if it was Rick or the fact that she hadn’t experienced true desire in a long time.

Hell, maybe she never had.

She felt tense from anticipation and she told herself to relax, but it was just so foreign to be with someone else that she found herself pulling away and explaining. “It’s been ten years since I had sex with someone new. I feel like my heart is going to tear out of my chest. I’m nervous, Rick, I can’t help it. I don’t want to be, but I am.”

The look he gave her made her mind go blank. He was so serious, so intense. He was staring deep into her eyes like she was the only woman he’d ever seen. “Sloane. I get this is a big deal. I am humbled that you are willing to get naked with me and let me inside you. I don’t take that lightly. All I ask is that you relax and tell me when you like or don’t like something.”

Sloane just nodded, not sure what to say. She trusted Rick. And frankly, she was glad she wasn’t emotionally invested in this. Or him. She realized the pressure would be too great then, expectations too high, if she waited and dated and really fell for someone. This was getting back on the horse, after you’d been thrown, but with an animal you trusted.

Rick would never hurt her. She knew that, because beneath the muscles and the grin and the big old flirt, he was still Little Dickie. A nice guy.

He kissed her again and this time she did relax. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of his big, strong body over her, his mouth doing amazing things to hers. When he shifted his hand under her shirt, she didn’t even flinch. As he brushed his hand over the side of her breast, shifting closer and closer to her nipple, her only thought was how enormous his hand was, not that it was unfamiliar.

He sat back and eased her shirt up over her chest and urged her, “Lift your head.” He pulled the tank top off and tossed it aside.

When Rick kissed the swell of her breast over her bra Sloane gave a soft moan. Having his body over hers was such a turn on. His beard scratched her delicate skin and it reminded her how masculine he was, how he had stood on that stage half-naked with total confidence. And now he was here, with her, for the next few hours. It was amazing and crazy and when he shifted her bra down so that her nipple popped free, she arched her back in invitation without even thinking. He didn’t hesitate. He covered the taut bud with his lips and drew her into his mouth.

It was such a simple thing and yet, it made every inch of her ache. Deep down in her core her body reacted instinctively. This. That’s what it was saying. This was what bodies were meant to do. Touch and tease and stroke each other to pleasure. He popped her bra open and let it shift naturally as he tasted her. What intrigued Sloane was that he seemed to be enjoying it as much as she was.

“Damn, you taste so good,” he said, as if he’d heard her thoughts.

Yeah, she had no idea how to respond to that. Thanks, it’s just my skin didn’t seem like a cool answer. So she kept her mouth shut and just concentrated on letting go. Letting him dictate how this went down. Then a memory popped into her head and she laughed. “Do you remember that time I was changing and the wind blew my door open and I caught you standing in the hallway staring at me in my bra?”

She’d been so ticked off though even at the time she’d realized he hadn’t done it on purpose. He’d just happened to be walking past, the door creaked and he’d turned to register where the noise had come from. They’d locked eyes.

“Yes. It was over before I could even appreciate it. You threw a hairbrush at me.” Rick glanced up at her. “I deserved that. And now, here we are. Never thought I’d see this day.”

“Me, either.” Sloane touched his shoulders, wanting to feel the warmth of his skin. “I just broke my rule about not engaging in small talk. I’m sorry. I’m just… not good at this.”

Rick studied her intently. He lifted himself up and moved closer to her face, giving her a soft kiss. “Hey.”

“Yes?”

He ran a callused thumb over her bottom lip. “No apologies. Seriously. Don’t apologize for being you. There are no rules, Sloane. Just go with whatever feels right. There is nothing you could do that would be wrong, do you understand that?”

Her ego was dented and she was uncertain, but she also believed that Rick would never lie to her. He was an honest guy, flirt or not. She also realized it didn’t really matter if he were telling the truth or not. This wasn’t really about him. It was about her.

This was about her moving on with the rest of her life. This was about letting go of the past and the hurt and the doubts. It was about saying she was entitled to enjoy herself.

“I understand.” Because she finally did. She owed Rick nothing. And he owed her nothing. They were just living in the moment. This skin-on-skin, pleasure-in-the-dark moment.

Rick didn’t say anything. He just divested her of her bra and tossed it in the general direction he’d sent her tank top.

Happy Birthday to her.