Author: Jill Shalvis

Mouth to mouth.

Sharing air.

“Matt?”

“Yeah?”

A sigh escaped her lips. “I really want to sleep with you, but…”

“Damn,” he said. “That was a great sentence right up to the ‘but.’ ”

“But,” she repeated firmly, then hesitated and blew out a breath, “I have… qualms.”

“Tell me.”

“Okay. The thing is, I think the sex would be good—”

“Good? Try off the charts.”

She acknowledged that with a nod. “Yeah, probably.”

Definitely.

“But…”

He sighed. The “but” again.

“But,” she repeated, “if you want anything more than that, I’m not interested.”

Wait—What? Had he heard her correctly, or just projected the words he’d want to hear?

She was waiting for a reaction, and it was just so unbelievable, and unbelievably perfect, that he laughed out loud.

Chapter 10

Flowers and champagne might set the stage, but it’s chocolate that steals the show.

Amy stared at Matt as he started laughing and felt her eyes narrow. “I’m sorry, but how exactly is the idea of us having sex funny?”

He laughed some more, looking quite gone with amusement, and it pissed her off. He made a clear effort to control himself, but it was too late. She was over it, and over him. And embarrassed to boot. “You think because I’m a woman I’d automatically want more than just sex? Well guess what Ranger Hot Buns—” She took a beat to enjoy his wince. “Women want just-sex as much as any guy.” Some more than others. Some had suppressed their urges for far too long and were fire rockets just waiting to go off. “So welcome to the twenty-first century,” she said. “Where women like just-sex.”

For some reason, this set him off again, and she pushed him. He didn’t budge, though, so she pushed him again, or at least she meant to. But her brain scrambled the signal, and her hands fisted in his shirt. “I ought to shut you up.”

This got his attention. “Yeah,” he said, hands sliding to her hips, “shut me up.”

“Fine.” She shut him up with one hell of a kiss. By the time it ended, she was plastered up against his hard body, her own humming. The force of his personality came through every touch of his rough, callused hands, exuding heat and the promise of unbelievable ecstasy. “Not laughing now, are you?” she said.

“Hell, no.” He came at her this time, and she found herself melting into him like suddenly there was no invisible line in the sand between them, nothing but this incredible pleasure, pleasure she couldn’t remember ever getting out of a simple kiss before.

Problem was, nothing about Matt was simple. Not for her. His arms held her close, and the scent of clean, warm male was making her heart pound. Her head was overrun with wicked thoughts involving her tongue and every inch of his body. Unable to help herself, she nipped at his throat.

“Amy.” His voice was thrillingly quiet and gruff as he ran his lips along her jaw. “Don’t promise what you don’t want to deliver.”

Turning her head, she cupped his face and pulled it closer. He let out a sound and sucked hungrily on her bottom lip. And while his mouth and tongue were very busy, so were his hands, gripping her hips.

“I rarely make promises,” she told him. “But when I do, I deliver.” She nibbled at his ear next, then, when he groaned, did it again.

A phone vibrated, Matt’s, but he ignored it. Whoever it was called back again immediately. Swearing quite creatively, Matt yanked the phone off his service belt. “Busy,” he said and shoved it into his pocket.

“When do you get off?” Amy asked.

“If we’re not careful, in less than ten seconds.”

She looked down at the hard-on threatening the zipper of his uniform trousers. “I meant off work.”

He once again pulled his cell phone and looked at the time. “Twenty minutes.”

She bit her lip and looked around them. There was the lake and a lovely area of wild grass, but it might be full of the creepy crawlies he’d mentioned the other night.

Reading her mind, he smiled but shook his head. “Not here. Not the first time.”

“There’s only going to be one time.” That was all she needed to take the edge off. The fact was, it’d been so long. Too long. She hadn’t realized how much she missed the feel of a man’s body against hers, how much she needed an orgasm that wasn’t a self-serve. And she wanted that without the pomp and circumstance, without planning, without anticipation. She wanted it now, wanted the sweet oblivion, the little bang, and then she’d go back to her day. “You’ve never done it in the great outdoors?”

“That’s not where we’re doing it,” he said firmly.

“Hmm.” She ran her finger down his chest, hoping to infuse some of her urgency to him.

He caught her wandering hand in his. “Hmm what?”

“Didn’t peg you for a prude.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously at the implied insult to his manhood, and he tightened his grip on her. “You’re going to take that back in a little bit.”

She had no idea what it said about her that this ridiculous display of alpha-ness brought her a delicious shiver of anticipation. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. Where’s your car?”

“At the trailhead,” she said. “Your truck?”

“On a fire road, a quarter of a mile from here.”

Not too far…

He read her expression, and his own went dark, further quickening her pulse. “I live close.” His hand slid into her hair, tipping her head up to his. “If we leave now, I’ll be off the clock by the time we get to my cabin.”

“Yes,” she breathed. His gaze tracked to her mouth, which he gave one quick, hard kiss before leading her to his truck.

The drive took them up old Highway 20, then down a narrow, curvy road. Amy caught sight of the occasional cabin, but not much else. When the road ended, Matt kept going, on a dirt road now, which opened up to a small clearing, and then his house.

“Two minutes left,” she said, staring at the rugged cabin in front of her. It was way off the beaten path, which suited him. So did the inside. The ceilings were open beamed, the floors scarred hardwood. Everything was wood accented, including the big, comfy looking furniture and the frames of the pictures on the walls of the Northwest Pacific landscape.

Amy felt a little ping deep in her chest. Not of jealousy, but envy. Matt had found his place in this crazy world. He knew who he was and what he wanted. And he’d gotten it for himself.

Someday soon, she promised herself. She was working on doing the same.

“Want a drink?” he asked. “Something to eat?”

The tension between them was so palpable she could taste it. “No.” She was here for one thing, and it was nourishment of a different nature altogether. With any luck, they’d do this and get each other out of their system. Then maybe she could go back to concentrating on why she was in Lucky Harbor—following Grandma Rose’s journey. She dropped her backpack to the floor.

He tossed his keys to the coffee table.

“No getting attached to me,” she said, hands on hips. “Cuz I’m not going to get attached to you.”

He gave her a smile. “Can you resist?”

“Yes,” she said firmly. It was her specialty. She shrugged out of her sweater and let it fall on top of her backpack.

His eyes heated.

She bent to undo her boots, but he said, “I have fantasies about those boots,” so she left them on and pulled off her top.

His gaze drifted warmly over her, heating her in the places yearning for his hands and his mouth.

“You’re lagging behind,” she said.

He unholstered his gun and set it on the coffee table. Next to that went his utility belt. He kicked off his boots. Then before he got to anything good, he stepped toward her.

“More,” she said.

“Oh, there’s going to be a lot more.” His voice was husky with the promise of it. “But I want you in my bed.” He took her hand and tugged her into him. Then he slid his other hand up her back and into her hair, holding her for his kiss. It was slow and romantic. And not what she wanted. So she broke away and went for the button on his uniform cargo pants. She’d long ago learned that to get what she wanted from a man, all she had to do was get him naked.

Luckily this time what she wanted and what this man wanted were perfectly in sync. She got his button popped, his zipper down, and slid her hand inside, wrapping it around his glorious, hard length.

He made a sound that was pure male hunger before stopping her. “Bedroom,” he said again firmly, and gave her a nudge to the hall.

She nudged back and pushed him up against the wall, just to the side of his fireplace. He’d asked if she wanted something to eat, and she did. “Dessert first,” she said. “Always.”

His mouth curved. She was amusing him. Turning him on, too, the proof was hard against her belly. Her body responded to that, and she kissed him, long and deep as she unbuttoned his shirt. God, his torso. Hard. Ripped. She wanted to lick him, and started in the dip at the hollow of his throat.

His groan reverberated in his chest, and in response, the blood pounded through her body. His hands were on her, everywhere. One glided down her back to her bottom, the other cupped a breast, his thumb teasing back and forth over her nipple. He murmured her name as his body shifted, and she knew he was about to take the control from her. So she dropped to her knees on the fireplace rug and took it first, slipping her hands back inside his open pants, freeing him so that she could run her tongue up his hot, silky erection.

With an inarticulate growl, his head thunked back against the wall and again his hands slid into her hair. She could feel the fine tremor in his legs, and that turned her on. He was the epitome of a strong and dominant male, and she had him weak at the knees at one touch of her tongue, so she gave him another. And another…