She flushed, and he laughed softly. “You’re going to have to be quiet. Very quiet,” he said.

She quivered and went damp. “I can do quiet.”

“The door, Amy.”

She turned to do just that, but it opened before she could and Ty strode in. He had a bag from Eat Me in one hand and two long-necked soda bottles dangling from the other. He wore dark, reflective sunglasses and the navy blue coverall of a paramedic with FLIGHT CARE across his back in white letters.

He dipped his head and eyeballed them over the top of his glasses, taking in Matt’s hair standing up on end from Amy’s fingers and then her disheveled appearance as well. His lips quirked. “I take it you forgot I was bringing lunch,” he said. “Since it looks like you’re already in the middle of yours.”

“It’s not what you think,” Amy said.

“No?” Ty asked, amused. “What do I think?”

Amy opened her mouth, then sighed. It was exactly what he thought.

Matt came forward, grabbed the bag and both drinks from Ty, then pushed his friend backward over the threshold and shut the door in his face. “I’m going to pay for that in the gym in the morning,” Matt said, handing Amy the sodas and food. “So we should probably enjoy this.”

“What if he’s hungry?”

“He’s always hungry. And on second thought, so am I.” Matt took the stuff back out of her hands and set them on a chair, then hauled her up against him. “Where were we?”

Amy slid her fingers back into his hair. “You had your tongue down my throat. And your hands up my shirt.”

He nodded and slid his hands up her shirt again, fingertips resting just beneath her breasts, which were tingling from his touch.

“And you?” he asked, voice husky. His bedroom voice. “Where were you?”

She bit her lower lip. They both knew exactly where she’d been. Her fingers had been heading for his zipper.

He laughed softly at her, kissed her long and deep, then tore his mouth from hers. Grabbing her hand, he tugged her to the door. “Change of plans. I’ve got fifty-five minutes left on my lunch break.”

“That’s enough for lunch and dessert.”

He smiled. “Yeah, and we’re going to have dessert first. But not here. It’s not nearly private enough for what I want to do to you.”

Her knees wobbled as she followed him out, having no idea where they were going and not caring. She’d probably follow him anywhere.

And if that wasn’t unsettling, he walked them down the hallway past several coworkers, moving with unconscious confidence that spoke of a man on a mission. And he was on a mission—to do her. At the thought, she cracked up, and he looked back questioningly.

“Nothing,” she said.

As if he could read her naughty thoughts, he gave her a heated look. “We’re doing this.”

“Yes, please.”

He smiled. “I like the ‘please.’ More of that.”

And she laughed again. It wasn’t often that she wanted to laugh and jump someone’s bones in the space of a few seconds. But then again, it wasn’t often that she wanted to both run like hell from someone and hold on tight to him either.

Normally Matt could make the drive from work to home in eleven minutes, allowing for the occasional deer crossing or traffic if he got behind someone not used to the narrow, two-lane, curvy highway.

Today, with Amy next to him practically vibrating with sexual tension, he made it in seven. He pulled up to his cabin with a screech of tires, then turned to her with some half-baked, Neanderthal idea of dragging her into his house. But she beat him to it, crawling over the console to straddle him before covering his mouth with hers.

His first response was a resounding oh, hell yeah. This was what he’d needed. Amy in his arms like a tempting, forbidden treat, her dark eyes full of wanting.

And then there was her mouth. God, that mouth, it could give a full-grown man a wet dream. He staggered out of his truck, pulling her out with him, careful to protect her injury.

At his front porch, they stopped to kiss. “Matt,” she whispered, and God, how he loved the sound of his name on her lips. He pressed her against his door. Take, his body demanded. Instead, forcing himself to be gentle, he leaned in and nibbled at her throat.

With a moan, her head thunked back to give him access. Trusting… that was new, and tenderness swamped him as he kissed her softly now, a sweet brush of his lips over her skin.

She moaned again, and damn if all his good intentions didn’t go up in smoke, the kiss quickly deepening into a hot, hungry intense tangle of tongues.

Tearing her mouth free, she rained kisses down his jaw, her small hands very busy at the buttons of his shirt, her expression one of such fierce intent that he groaned. “Amy—”

She gave up on his buttons and went for his belt and zipper, having some trouble working around his gun and utility belt. And then he was in her hands. Literally.

“Not here,” he heard himself say roughly, though he was gentle as he lifted her up, still aware enough to be careful of her stitches. She wrapped her legs around him, and he cupped her ass in one palm, supporting her as he unlocked the door with his free hand. Kicking it closed, he strode with her through his house, ignoring the couch, the fireplace rug, everything except his big bed. By the time she’d begun working off her clothes, he’d stripped naked and was reaching for her.

She’d toed off her kick-ass boots but was still struggling out of her jeans. He tugged them off and the rest of her clothes as well. His arms glided up hers, taking her hands in his above her head. Palm to palm, chest to chest, thigh to thigh, he looked into her beautiful face and lost his breath. But as he knew she would, she tugged to free her hands. “Amy.” He nuzzled at her throat but then made eye contact. “Let’s try it my way this time.”

She went still. In fact, she appeared to stop breathing. “What way is that?”

“The way where you trust me.”

Her eyes met his, heartbreakingly wild. He steeled himself against the surge of unexpected emotion and held her gaze, willing her to look deep and see what he was finally starting to get about himself. He could be trusted. She could trust him.

“Matt—”

“I would never hurt you,” he breathed, lowering his head to kiss her softly. “Trust me.”

She closed her eyes, then opened them again, relaxing her body into his. “I do. I do trust you.”

Chapter 20

Nine out of ten people love chocolate. The tenth person lies.

Hunger and desire pounded through Amy’s veins, but there was unease now. And fear. Not that she believed Matt would ask anything of her that she wouldn’t be willing to give, but that she’d give him everything. Willingly.

He lowered his head and whispered her name against her lips before kissing her slow and deep. He took his sweet-ass time about it, too, and her entire world came to a stop on its axis. “Matt—”

“Still right here,” he murmured, spreading hot, wet kisses down her jaw, along her collarbone. Her breast. “Mmm, you smell like heaven, Amy.”

“You have to hurry,” she reminded him, rocking into him, trying to get him to pick up the pace. “You don’t have much time left.”

“I don’t like to hurry.”

No kidding! His tongue curled around her nipple, and he growled in approval when it beaded for him.

She bucked, and he did it again, reaching for the bedside drawer, grabbing a condom. Thank God. He’d come to his senses. They were going to get this show on the road. He protected them both, and then palmed her thighs, opening them. This wrenched a groan from his throat, and he took his time eyeing her all spread out for him. “Missed this,” she heard him say, the softly uttered words making her heart kick crazily in her ribcage as he lowered his head and kissed her. Lapped at her. Sucked, until she climaxed with shocking ease.

She was still shuddering when he brushed a kiss over her bandaged side and looked up at her. “You okay?”

Her entire body was humming, and she couldn’t feel her toes. Or access her brain cells. “I’ll get back to you on that one.”

“You do that,” he said huskily, and slid into her.

She cried out and arched up. Hard and fast, her body demanded, every muscle straining with the need to feel him possess and take her.

But Matt didn’t get the hard and fast memo. As if he had all the time in the world, he cupped her face, kissing her as he slowly began to move, grinding against her body in fluid, rhythmic motions, like the ebb and flow of the waves against the shore. Each movement sent a current through her body, making her arch into him, molding herself to him. “More, Matt. Please, more.”

“Everything,” he promised, then dipped his head to her breasts, taking his time with each before pressing a kiss between them, right against her heart.

Which leapt against his mouth. Never in her life had she felt more open, more… vulnerable. It shocked her. It overwhelmed her.

Because this wasn’t just sex. He was making love to her, so thoroughly and completely that he’d sneaked in past her defenses, leaving her feeling cherished.

Loved.

He slid his hands to her hips and stilled them, making her realize that she’d been bucking against him. He moved against her, slowly, surely, even deeper now. Thinking became all but impossible as her fingers roamed, touching every part of him she could reach, his shoulders, his back. His face. Her heartbeat was different, faster yes, but beating just for him, it seemed.

Only for him, and she panicked at the barrage of emotions, freezing up.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, stroking her, holding her. It wasn’t the first time he’d made this promise, but it was the first time she really heard him, believed him. He thrust into her, again and again, and her senses took over. The sight of his face, drawn in fierce concentration as he gave her pleasure, the delicious scent of him, the sound of her own heart thundering in her ears, and her panting echoing off the walls as she fought for air. Toes curling, her gaze locked on his, and she was hit with the one-two punch of his eyes. Her heart tightened along with the rest of her as she barreled toward the mother of all orgasms. When it hit, she called out his name in shock, in surprise, in sheer overwhelming passion. He stayed with her right into the waves of ecstasy, and then followed her there, coming with a rough, ragged groan as he pressed his hips to hers in one final, hard thrust. Seeing stars, she clutched at him, her only anchor in a spinning world.