Hannah lost track of everything as Cain’s lips met hers. Gently he kissed her, almost tentatively, as if momentarily unsure if it was the right thing to do. But soon, he cast aside any hesitation and kissed her harder, his tongue finding hers, tasting her as she tasted him, just a hint of bourbon on his breath.

Hannah hooked her finger into the belt loop of Cain’s shorts, yanking him closer, until his solid bulk pressed her against the door. She kissed him, trapped by him, a prisoner to his mouth and his body and the desire that burst from him, and enjoying every moment of it. She felt his hardness pressing into her as his lips traveled to her neck, sending goosebumps down her entire left side. She let out a sigh, losing herself in him.

He kissed her lips again, and Hannah clung to his belt loops, pulling him as close as she could, closing any remaining space between them. Cain’s breathing grew heavier, his kiss more urgent, filling Hannah with need, until he pulled away suddenly, freeing her.

Cain’s eyes, alight with all sorts of things she’d never seen in them before, met hers for just a moment before raking down her body. They traveled back up again, stopping at the black fleece jacket he’d loaned her. He slowly unzipped it, then slid his hands underneath the shoulders and peeled it off her, tossing it aside.

His eyes journeyed up some more, focusing on something that seemed to hold his interest. He reached out and took her ponytail, pulling it forward and stroking it a few times. And all Hannah could think was that she wanted to stay right here for that moment, with Cain’s dark eyes gazing at her, and his gentle hands on her. She wondered what else he could do with those hands.

“I want to see your hair down,” he said, his eyes shifting to hers.

Hannah reached up and removed the elastic band that held her ponytail, letting her long blonde hair cascade down over her shoulders and chest. Cain watched, as if completely caught up.

“How’s that foot?” he murmured, still playing with her hair.

Her foot? Oh, that. She’d forgotten all about it. But once reminded, she realized it could use a rest. “It hurts a little.”

Cain bent down and grabbed her, lifting her off the hardwood floor and cradling her in his arms. No one had ever picked her up like that before, but with Cain it felt completely natural. She held onto him while he headed toward his bedroom, rotating her body through the door so her head and feet wouldn’t hit the door frame. His bedroom was dark and cool, the shades pulled. Cain lowered her onto his bed.

Before he could make another move or even join her on the bed, Hannah sat up and reached for the closest thing—his belt loops—and pulled him closer. Now that this was going to happen, she didn’t want to wait another moment before getting what she suddenly needed more than anything. Him. Right now.

As she unbuttoned his shorts, she looked up at him, wondering which expression those eyes would convey this time. Happiness? Tenderness? The fires of lust? But instead they had a glimmer of amusement in them.

“You think you’re in charge now, huh?”

Hannah smiled. “Is that a complaint?”

Cain shook his head.

Hannah pulled down his shorts as he yanked off his t-shirt, revealing a thick muscled chest. She slid off her tank top, then her black lace bra, the one that had peeked out from the edges of her tank. He yanked off her jeans and panties, and Hannah scooted herself farther back onto the bed.

Cain stood there for a moment, gazing at her naked body and her hair splayed out on his bed, as if imagining all the things he wanted to do to her. He found his way onto the bed, hovering over her and kissing her again. Softly at first, then harder, as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste of her. Hannah panted beneath him, her hands gripping his hips and pulling at him, pulling him onto her, showing him what she wanted and needed. Cain got rid of his boxer briefs, then reached over and grabbed protection from his bedside table drawer. He rolled it on before thrusting into her.

Hannah gasped at the feel of him inside her. Oh God, he felt good. So good.

Cain was like a runaway locomotive—once he got going, he was unstoppable. He thrust into her again, and then again, breathing harder and harder as he pinned her to the bed. Hannah gave in to it all, grabbing him to brace herself, feeling his muscles working as he covered her with his bulk, hearing his breathing grow more labored as she dug her nails into his back. But she wanted more of him. She wanted all of him, all he could give her. As if reading her mind and her eager body, Cain took her arms and pinned them above her head, holding her steady as he thrust harder. She muttered a yes… and when he gave her more, she told him yes again.

Cain went at her faster, grunting like a wild man, Hannah’s pleasure rising rapidly, climbing and climbing until it started to crash upon her like a burst of explosive heat, searing through her from her head to her toes. She cried out, again and again as he thrust even harder, his skin sliding against hers, his chest smashed against her breasts, his hot grunting breath in her ear, each pounding thrust sending a new wave of ecstasy through her.

And somewhere in the middle of her euphoric fog, Cain squeezed her wrists with his hands, his body tensing against hers with his effort, his chest glistening with sweat and his tousled hair tickling her face as he gave a last couple of final thrusts.

“Jesus fuck,” he groaned, his entire body going completely still as his own release took him.

Hannah let herself collapse underneath him, the weight of him not oppressive, but instead keeping her steady while her legs fell to either side of him. Normally, by now she’d be ready for a man to clear away and give her some space. But now she relished this moment of respite, with Cain splayed on her, still inside her, pulsating with life. Soon, when he came to and the blood returned to his body, he released her arms and peeled himself off of her.

Cain sat on his knees, catching his breath, resting his hand on her leg. Finally, the big brown eyes found hers. “That was supposed to last a little longer.”

Hannah smiled a little. “Do I not look satisfied?”

Cain chuckled. He got up to dispose of their protection. As he did, a thought dawned on her.

She’d just fucked Grizzly. The guy who wouldn’t give her directions. The doctor who told her that her race was over and that she’d trained all wrong. The taciturn, unreadable man who liked his alone time as much as she did.

It surprised her.

But it didn’t disturb her. At all.

Still, Hannah sat up, knowing what came next. It was time to leave. She scooted to the edge of the bed, spotting her undies nearby, their black lace standing out on Cain’s off-white rug.

“Going somewhere?”

Hannah looked up to see Cain standing there, still completely naked, eyeing her with a perplexed look. “Home,” she said, smiling.

“We haven’t even done the cuddle thing.”

“I hate cuddling.”

He sighed. “Yeah. Me too.”

Hannah began putting on her undies. “Look, Grizzly. You offered some good advice, fed me a great dinner, and gave me a hell of an orgasm. I think you’re done.”

He gave a half smile, folding his arms over his chest. “You don’t want to stay a while?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Hannah slid on her jeans and found her bra and tank. “But I need to work in the morning, and I want you to have your alone time.”

“And for you to have yours.”

She shrugged. “Maybe.” She stood up, placing a hand on his chest briefly before going out to the main room. The sliding glass door was still open, and the evening mountain air wandered in, carrying the scent of pine trees and casting a chill over her. She eyed Cain’s fleece jacket, lying near the door.

“Take it with you,” he said. He stood nearby, still buck-ass naked. “Bring it back when you visit again.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I’m visiting again?”

He nodded.

Hannah smiled and picked up his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders. “I had a nice time.”

“Me too.”

She grabbed her purse and keys.

“You have a phone number?” he said.

She smirked. “Why? You want it?”

He shrugged. “In case you forget to return my jacket.”

Hannah giggled and dug through her purse for a pen.

“Just tell it to me,” he said. “I’ll remember.”

Hannah told him her phone number, and Cain gave a single nod, as if committing it to memory. She wondered if that was a ploy he used. If he didn’t call, a woman could assume that he’d forgotten her number, rather than forgotten her. She could hardly hold it against him if he did either. She’d certainly forgotten her share of men. And Cain owed her nothing.

“Go ice that foot, Grace,” he said, glancing down at her left foot. “It’s swollen.”

“I will. Grizzly.”

Cain’s eyes twinkled again. And that’s when she realized it. He liked it when she called him that. He liked it when she gave him shit, and when she spoke her mind. She opened the door, and then paused when she had another thought.

“By the way, Grizzly, why Grace Kelly?”

“Because you’d clearly tripped and fallen, and you had that ball-busting way about you.” He gave a wry smile. “I was being ironical.”

She nodded at his answer, which was more or less what she’d expected. But she couldn’t help but chuckle at his use of “ironical.” Only someone with a literary streak would use that word. “Are you really allowed to say ‘ironical’ when you’re that naked?”

Cain nodded. “I think I am.”

And nestled in the warmth of Cain’s jacket, Hannah turned and left.