She’d given up on men. I should be popping a bottle of champagne right now in celebration. I’d never have to watch her climb into some guy’s car all dolled up for a night out again. Never overhear her talking about dates with Scarlett. I wouldn’t have to deal with hearing the sounds of a happy relationship through the thin walls that separated us.

But giving up on men included me, too. Sure, I’d taken myself out of that game a long time ago. But there was a part of me—a big part—that had hoped Cass would find a way to put it back on the table someday.

I wondered what it was exactly that had sent her into cat lady exploration. The dinner, the dance we’d shared, had been…nice.

My damn traitor of a cock stirred under the sheets remembering the feel of Cassidy pressed against me. I lost count of the thousands of hard-ons I’d gotten thanks to her. It was unnatural, the way one woman could turn me to granite in seconds all without ever really touching me.

I yawned, scrubbed my hands over my face, and prayed for sleep. Sleepless nights due to my next-door neighbor were an unfortunate and common occurrence.

The shriek brought me rocketing out of bed. I was still groggy when my feet hit the cold floor. But the adrenaline coursing through my body was shouting its message: Cassidy was in danger.

If that fucker with the toothpick from dinner the other night showed up at her house I was gonna—

She screamed again, and I heard a thud. I vaulted over my bed and sprinted for the hallway. The door that separated our spaces didn’t stand a chance. I don’t know if I kicked it in or how I managed it, but I found myself staggering through an open door and into Cassidy’s bedroom.

We faced each other on opposite sides of her rumpled bed. Her eyes were wild, her hair a disaster. And she was completely fucking naked.

I didn’t think it was possible, not with the fight instinct firing my every synapse, but I went stone hard so fast I almost passed out.

“Bowie!” she screeched, and something flappy dive-bombed me.

It headed in Cassidy’s direction, and she dropped to the floor, pulling the bedside lamp with her.

Cassidy Tucker was fearless. She’d hauled two-hundred-pound belligerent drunks into jail cells. She’d responded alone to plenty of domestic disturbance calls. Hell, she was the one Scarlett called whenever a lonely garter snake tried to hole up in her house.

But there was one thing that scared Cassidy down to her boots: bats.

The damn thing swooped my way again, and I ducked, not keen on flying biters with potential rabies.

“Catch it, Bowie!” Naked Terrified Cassidy could have begged me to stick my fingers in a light socket and dance the Macarena and I’d have done it. The disoriented bat came back at me and fluttered its way to the headboard of Cass’s bed.

Thinking fast, I snatched up her gym bag from the floor and dumped the contents. Cassidy peered over the edge of the bed, eyes wary.

“Come on, buddy. You and me have some business to attend to,” I said, approaching cautiously. One foot in front of the other. It wasn’t so hideous up close. More like a weird looking rat puppy with wings. I took a deep breath and deftly dropped the bag over the bat, using the flap to coax it inside.

I felt it flop around and quickly zipped the bag closed.

“Is it gone?” Cassidy whispered from the other side of the bed. I could only see the top of her head.

“It’s all right, Cass,” I promised her. I should be carting the bat out, averting my eyes. But instead, I put the bag on the floor and rounded the bed.

I shouldn’t be pulling the naked object of my affection to her feet and running my hands over her arms. But here I was doing exactly that.

Cassidy leaned into me, her forehead resting on my chest. “That fucker scared the crap out of me. I almost shot him.”

I spotted her service weapon on the nightstand and breathed a sigh of relief.

I was sporting morning wood at 2 a.m. I was so hard, if she moved one little muscle I might go off like a gun. “Cass, honey. You’re not wearing any clothes.” I reminded her, pushing her back enough to give my aching, throbbing, pulsing hard-on a little bit of breathing room.

She looked down. So did I.

I’d dreamed about this moment for a long-ass time and I wasn’t about to ruin it by being a gentleman and looking away. Not when she was naked and in my arms. She had gentle curves, like the backroads that meandered around the lake. Her legs went on for fucking ever. Her breasts were perfect teardrops that looked like my hands were made to hold them. I loved every damn inch of her. The muscled shoulders, the subtle nip of her waist. The scar on her right hip from a fish hook that I personally removed when she was eleven.

I swallowed hard and tried to remind myself why I’d never touched her.

But she was still looking down, staring at me. Or my cock that was trying to fight its way out of the boxer briefs I’d slept in.

“Like a little sister, huh?” she asked, throwing that lie back in my face.

Fuck. I had her back against the wall before she could say another word.

I pinned her against the drywall and held her in place with my hips. My cock throbbed against her belly. Her breasts were flattened against my chest so hard I could feel her heartbeat. Instead of trying to kick me in the balls—which is what she had every right to do—she sank her teeth into my shoulder and then ran the tip of her tongue over my skin.

I went ahead and lost my damn mind. I held her by the throat, her pulse skittering under my fingers, and I let myself do what I’d spent years thinking about doing.

The second my lips found hers, everything changed. She wasn’t scared anymore, she was starving. For me. And I was drowning in her. I kissed those lips that had smiled at me, frowned, smirked. A lifetime of expressions and we were finally discovering one more together.

She sank her teeth into my bottom lip, and then we were nothing but teeth and tongue and razor-sharp lust. When she bucked her hips against me, I ground my hard-on into her. The only barrier between us was the thin cotton of my underwear that I would gladly shred with my bare hands if it meant I got to bury myself in her.

I lifted her up, and she eagerly wrapped her legs around my waist. The head of my dick nestled between her silky thighs like it knew where its home was. I could feel her heat through the cotton.

“Yes, Bowie. Yes.”

It was my undoing. My name, breathed from Cassidy’s lips, was my salvation and damnation.

“Oh, God, Cass.”

Her hands were everywhere. Stroking, squeezing, tempting, teasing. I kissed her like she was the center of my world, tasting her. I cupped her breast and reveled in the feel of her nipple pebbling against my palm. Our bodies recognized each other. Recognized that connection, the physical craving that only the other could satisfy.

She shoved a hand between us, and I was scared that she was coming to her senses. But those long fingers wrapped around my shaft, and I couldn’t feel anything but need anymore. She freed me from the briefs and lined up the head of my dick against her. Wet and hot, the evidence of Cassidy’s need was kissing the crown of my cock. I shifted, gave a shallow thrust, testing us both.

Oh, fuck. Just the tip buried in Cassidy’s core was better than anything I’d ever experienced in my life. Including orgasms. The giving and receiving. This torturous inch of pleasure was better and more and everything.

“Oh, my God, Bowie. Yes, please. Please. Please,” she gasped into my mouth.

I could feel her pulsing around me already. Greedy, needy, and so fucking perfect. Through the haze of lust, the crushing need to drive into her, our eyes met. Those moss green eyes pulled my soul from my body. I saw us in those eyes. Our past, present, and future all wrapped up in the hope and need in Cassidy Ann Tucker’s beautiful green eyes.

“Are you sure, baby?” I gritted out.

“Bowie!” She squeezed me everywhere, milking the head of my cock.

I drew my hips back, ready to finally take what I’d wanted for so damn long.

“Everything all right?”

Jonah Bodine was a dead man.