Dane’s house sits smack-dab in the middle of town. It’s this cute little home, so close to the couple next door that I’m surprised he can’t hear them having sex in their bedroom.

I wrinkle my nose at the thought and knock twice on the door.

“It’s open,” he yells from somewhere inside.

Letting myself in, I drop my purse on the table next to the door. The room is dim and there’s a candle lit. It smells of chocolate. Nice. It’s the candle I bought him for a housewarming gift.

“Hey there,” I yell into the empty room. “I brought food.”

“Be out in a minute.”

I kick off my Converses near the sofa. I love Thursday nights.

Thursday is standing movie night. It doesn’t matter if there’s a woman in his life or a guy in mine. I can always depend on Dane for this one pillar in my life that doesn’t change.

Thursday always means flicks. Besties. Beer. Maybe pizza if I’m being a bad eater. The best life has to offer for the single person.

“How you doing, Butterfly?” He strolls into the room, his dark hair wet from the shower and falling recklessly across his forehead. So beautiful. Also, so unfair.

“Oh, doing okay. You know, same old, same old. William came in today asking about how much inventory I keep in the back. That man is a nut job.”

Dane chuckles and strides past me into the kitchen, so I follow. He pulls two beers from the fridge, handing me one after he unscrews the lid. “That man has a thing for you. You want me to rough him up?”

His expression and tone are a little too serious all of a sudden. Too bad it’s just friendly concern and not jealousy.

I sigh. “Ew! He’s old enough to be my father. And no. I don’t want you threatening the guy. He adds that little mystery to my life. It’s a guessing game with myself on what he’ll do next.”

Dane tips the beer bottle to his lips and takes a long pull from it. I watch his Adam’s apple move in the most delightful way. Can drinking be an act of seduction? I vote yes.

“I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse,” he says with an air of the Godfather. “One word from you and…”

“Don’t go scaring Walters. He’s harmless.” I snort and tip up my own beer.

Dane takes my cloth bag of groceries and peers inside. He wrinkles his nose at the pita chips with yogurt dip. “No pizza tonight? I can order a delivery.”

“Your arteries are complaining. We are not getting any younger. This is healthy and this is what we’re eating. I’m trying to eat better. I read a book about vegan living.”

He shakes his head and puts the chips and a large plastic bowl. Popping one chip into his mouth, he makes a face and chews slowly. Then he swallows and chugs the rest of his beer. “Tastes like vegan death to me.”

“You’ll get used to it. After three or four it tastes less like cardboard and more like flavorful shoe leather.”

“Great.” He walks past me to the living room. “It’s your turn to pick the movie.”

I carry the bowl of pita chips to the coffee table and plop down on the sofa. Dane clicks on the television and finds a movie pay-per-view channel.

He scrolls through the selection and nothing really hits me. After reading a good twenty-five titles, I see the name of one of my favorite actors. “Stop there,” I demand.

“Her Only Love?” Dane clicks into the description. A sweeping saga of love and lust. Winner of the Sundance award, this film explores sexuality of the future. For viewers eighteen and older.

“Love and lust? I’m in,” he says.

I shift uncomfortably on the sofa. “Oh. I thought it’d be more…”

He waggles his eyebrows. “You turning into a prude?”

“I’m not a prude.”

“Yeah. I know. I see the kinds of books you read. And this isn’t porn. There are channels for that if it’s what you want to watch.” He smirks at me.

I grab a pillow and throw it at his head. “We are so watching this movie now.”

Dane clicks to start the movie. I drag a sofa blanket over my legs and tuck my feet underneath me. No wonder this movie won awards.

In minutes I’m engrossed in the story of a woman assigned to have sexual relations with a man she’s never met. Okay, I can go with this fantasy as the hero turns out to be my hunky favorite actor—Blake King. The subplot to the story involves an interplanetary threat in the city.

A little romance for me, some shoot ‘em action for Dane. Win-win.

And then a man loses an arm. Blood squirts across the scene in an arc of red. The character standing next to him begins to vomit.

I study the lump of dip on the pita chip I hold two inches from my lips. “Eww…”

“Cool shot,” Dane mutters.

Putting the chip on my napkin, I close my eyes. Dane slings an arm over my shoulders.

He never gets this handsy. God, I could get used to this. His Sparticus arm feels so good around me. I inhale his scent of leather and shampoo and sex appeal.

“Too much for you?” he asks. “Can’t you stand a little blood?”

“Uh, no. Not while I’m snacking.”

He pats my arm. “Do you want me to turn it off?”

“No, but I need more sex and less of the blood.”

He laughs and I feel that deep sexy rumble migrating from his chest into my body. Maybe I should get squeamish more often.

I snuggle closer. He never does this, and it feels so like a hug that just for a moment, I pretend that we’re on a date. Harmless.

“Your wish came true. Open your eyes.” Dane rubs the top of my shoulder. He doesn’t remove his arm like I expect him to.

On screen, the hero is shedding his bloody military uniform and giving a very heated stare to the female lead.

“Whoa. That’s a switch.”

“Adrenaline. Fighting makes a guy…well…”

“Oh,” I mutter and keep watching the two on-screen. “God,” I mumble. “The way that man kisses her.”

“What about it?”

His voice is so low, yet I startle. Did I say that out loud about the kissing? Of course I did. “It's just…I don’t know. It’s more than a kiss.”

“How do you mean?”

“You can feel how much he cares about her. I mean, no one’s ever kissed me like that.” My face heats because, hello, too much information.

“Never?” He sounds confused as if I’ve blown his mind. There’s a pregnant pause.

Do I imagine that he turns his body toward me? Holy moly, I can’t look at him.

Dane shifts his weight and his face is closer to mine than earlier. “You’ve obviously been kissed by the wrong people.”

I take a shallow breath and all my nerves spark. Change the subject. Watch the movie. Or jump his bones. It’s an option.

His fingers grip my chin and he turns my head. I stare into his dark eyes and drown at the desire swirling in them. It’s my imagination. That thing people do when they project their own wants onto someone else.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he says. “I really don’t want you to stop me, but now’s the time if you’re going to.”

Because Dane and I…it would’ve happened way before now if this was meant to be. Go ahead and kiss him, says a teeny, tiny voice in my brain. You brought up the lack of proper kissing in your life, and he feels the need to oblige.

My lips touch his and by entire body thrums—a beat in a dance club, a steam engine with no brakes. He slants his mouth across mine and caresses my lips for seconds before the kiss grows more intense. The sexy dart of his tongue into my mouth prompts me to squeeze my thighs together.

Oh Lord, this man can kiss. He could work in Hollywood. Kissing coach for hire.

His tongue tangles with mine and then his hand grips the back of my hair, holding me exactly in place so he can do with me what he wants.

His hand presses against the middle of my back and my breasts smash his chest. My nipples harden, and I press my thighs together harder.

It’s been too long since I’ve been with anyone.

It’s been forever since Dane has wanted me.

Then, his mouth no longer crushes against mine, but skates across my jaw and down my neck. His teeth nip against my collarbone and he licks along the swell of my breast.

I fall back and pull him with me, not ending the glory of this kiss. He returns to my lips. When he sucks the tip of my tongue while using one hand to caress my breast and the other to reach down to grab my ass, I moan.

Damn. This man can walk and chew gum. Definitely.

One knee parts my thighs and I open them willingly. The length of his erection presses against me and I swear my eyes roll back into my head.

He pulls his lips from mine and my mouth follows the magnet. “I was only…” he murmurs and gently bites my bottom lip, “going to kiss you.”

My fingers tremble as I undo the first button of his shirt, then the second.

“Butterfly,” he whispers, his voice smoky.

“Take off your shirt.” I barely recognize my own voice.

“Yours first.” The corner of his mouth quirks up.

I press the palms of my hands against his chest and push. His brow furrows for a brief moment, and he shoves himself to the edge of the sofa in a liquid move, his glittering eyes never leaving mine.

I sit up and grab the bottom edges of my cotton shirt and pull it slowly over my head. His eyes lazily roam my chest and stomach and then move back up to my face.

“You make me weak,” he says. “A better man would stop right here.”

I try not to feel vulnerable, half-dressed and out of breath for him. “Dane Delacroix, you stop now, and I’m going to kick your ass.”

“Tell me how you really feel.” There’s a spark of amusement in his eyes and he chuckles low. He slides his knee closer to my hip, and one hand braces himself above my head.

“Take me to your bed. That’s how I really feel.”

He makes a low, growly sound and closes his eyes. “I don’t want you to regret this.”

I grab his hand and guide his palm over the curve of my belly and up between my breasts, the rough feel of his hand sending goose bumps along my skin. “Don’t make me beg.”

“Dammit,” he grinds out and picks me up. “Are you out of your mind? Tonight. Me and you. Finally.” He slings me over his shoulder like a sack of sugar at the bar and I give a delighted whoop.

He jostles me up and down due to his swift stride up the stairs. Dane smacks me on the ass with his free hand. “Be quiet woman. I’ll think you’ve changed your mind.”

“Stop that. I’m not into that BDSM stuff,” I say, a little cheery, a lot euphoric. “Unless you are.”

At this moment, I’ll take a spanking or anything else he has in mind.

“Butterfly? You into that?” He gives a dark laugh. “I’m going to lick every bit of you like my personal lollipop. You’re mine from your head to that sweet pussy.”

I squirm at his words. Dirty talking Dane. I should’ve known. He freezes at the doorway to his bedroom.

I lift my head and attempt to look at him. Oh, for the love of my sanity he can’t change his mind. “What?”

Dane grabs my waist and slides me down his body until my feet hit the ground. He puts his hands on each side of my head and cradles it. The eye contact is so intense I feel myself melting at this man’s feet.

I’m unnerved by the way the very air around me vibrates with sexual tension. I grin at him and break the silence. “Are you eye-fucking me?”

“I never thought I’d do this…well, hell.”

“Don’t get cold feet now,” I say and tug at the waist of his jeans so his groin bumps me. He’s rock hard and this pleases me more than any words.

“I’m trying to slow us down and savor this. I’m going to worship at the altar of Josie,” he whispers. “You know how many fantasies I’ve had about you?”

I’m afraid this is a dream—those perfect yet frustrating words from his mouth. This fantasy is about to come to life for me and I plan to blow his mind. I run my hand along the hard ridge of his erection and close my eyes.

“What took you so long?” I whisper and open my eyes to stare into his.

“I don’t know.” He shakes his head like a person warding off errant thoughts. Then he unfastens the catch of my bra and his eyes track the slow slide of the straps down my arms. I draw in a sharp breath when he groans, a sound so primal that it vibrates through my core.

My nipples ache when he brushes the knuckles of one hand across the tips. A touch so light with an impact like a dynamite blast. Hooking a strap with one finger, he pulls it away and slings it over his shoulder. “I finally get to do what I’ve wanted all these years,” he murmurs, his smoky voice caressing me.

“Finally.” He wants his fantasy? I’m going to give it to him. Be bold and let him know how we can be together. Let him know what he’s been missing all these years. I push my panties and leggings down and step out of them.

The heat of his gaze sears a brand onto my sex, my heart, and my soul. His eyes say all the words he’s not saying with his lips—that I am wanted. Adored, even.

It fills me with a sense of elation because I’ve kept my own feelings under wraps, hidden deeper than the valleys of the Underworld. I’ll never love anyone like I love him.

“Yeah. Finally,” he says. And with those words, he takes my hand and leads me to his bed. “You won’t regret this. I’m going to make you scream my name in ecstasy.”