“You have feelings to tell me about?”

“Oh yeah.” He placed both palms on her thighs, staring at the skin under his fingers. I want to feel you everywhere.

“Michael. Really. What did you want to talk to me about?”

He blinked. And looked up into questioning light green eyes.

Talk to her.

He didn’t want to talk right now. Every thought except one had blown clear out of his brain. He scrambled to get his thoughts together and removed his hands from her legs, because the feel of her skin was short-circuiting his mind even more. She sat on the bed beside him, holding his gaze, and reached for his hand. Hers were slightly damp. This close, he could smell the wine from her mouth.

He licked his lips.

He’d read somewhere that women were turned on by what they heard? And men by what they see?

Too true.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he started. “I want this. I want what you’re…offering. I’ve wanted that from the first time I saw you at the door at your house. You’re the full package, you know? Brains, beauty, and some balls.”

She scowled slightly.

“That’s a compliment.” He wiped at his forehead. Compliment? “I mean, you went through some tough shit and came out great.”

Her expression didn’t change.

“Ah, fuck me. Damn it. You’d think I don’t know how to talk.” He grabbed both her hands, turned toward her, and looked at her in earnest. “Listen. You do it for me, princess. In an amazing way. You get me hot with one look, but that’s not all of it. I don’t want just that. I want to wake up in the middle of the night and stretch out a leg and feel yours against it. I want to open my bathroom cabinet and see your makeup next to my stuff. When I pour my coffee in the morning, I want to pour two cups.”

She simply blinked at him.

“I want to know your opinion on the next election and that stupid kid beauty pageant TV show and if you like Indian food.” He sucked in a breath. “I don’t know if you like to travel or see movies or go camping, but I want to find out! What I’m saying is that I like you, Jamie. A lot. I don’t want to just have an awesome night of sex—and it will be awesome—I want to keep moving forward. Does that make sense?”

A wicked gleam touched her eyes and she smiled. “Perfect sense. You’re saying I’m not a one-night stand.” She touched the collar on his shirt and then the skin just below it, her gaze following her fingers.

Fire lit at his neck and shot downward.

He lunged forward and kissed her.

She met him kiss for kiss, and the next few minutes flew by in a flurry of hands and mouths. Tugging at clothing, undoing hooks, grasping at bedding as they flung back the covers to get bare skin on cool sheets. He moved her back against the mattress and stretched out beside her, touching every inch of that silky skin of hers with his own. She clung to him, gripping as she rubbed her thighs against his, her chest pressed tight to his.

He wasn’t done talking with her, but there would be time to talk later. She ran her nails through his hair, and his body lit up like fireworks. He continued his deep assault on her mouth as they rolled on the bed, taking turns for control. His hands traced her smooth skin, touching and memorizing every dip and curve. It was fast and hungry, no calm, soothing sex here. He felt like a starving man.

And Jamie was delicious.

He pulled back and stopped, holding her at arm’s length, pinned against the mattress, so he could look his fill. Her eyes were dark and her pupils dilated, her lips open and wet, her chest heaving as she paused. Her gaze held his, saying she was giving him a moment to look but not much more. Something possessive gripped him.

“It’s not just sex,” he repeated. He needed to know she truly understood before this went further.

“I know.” The pulse at her neck throbbed.

Her leg shifted between his, stroking his rigidity with her thigh. Michael tried not to moan. Instead, he bent his head to her breast and took her nipple gently between his teeth, teasing the silky tip with his tongue. She hissed and clutched at him. The scent of her skin shot heat down his spine and put every hormone in overdrive.

There wasn’t time. He parted her with a hand, stroking her, and found her slick wetness, which nearly made him release on her stomach. She pressed a condom into his hand. He ripped it open and sheathed himself as her knees came up and her head tipped back. He pressed against her and slid deep.

Their bodies arced together, their pace frantic and feverish. It was mindless, hormone-driven sex. Exactly what he’d needed and apparently she’d needed too. She scratched his back, and the small pain magnified his anticipation. White lights danced behind his eyelids as he heard her gasp, felt her clamp and pulse around him. His tension built.

Michael came, his brain and spine exploding with sensations.

Later, he wrapped his arms around her, relishing the feel of her skin pressed against him. She’d drifted off, but he didn’t want to sleep. He didn’t want to relinquish the moment. He wanted to stretch it out as long as possible, savoring the intimacy they’d shared. He still wanted more, more of everything she had to offer him. Physical, emotional, and mental. He was keeping Jamie around for the long haul.

But he couldn’t wait to pour two cups of coffee in the morning.

Gerald had packed a small duffel bag for a few nights, filled up his gas tank, and parked his vehicle a mile from Jamie’s house at a local gas station. He read the latest Lee Child novel as he waited for his boss’s man to update him. There was no way he was going near Jamie’s home after the break-in that morning. Thankfully, his boss always knew someone, somewhere. And to get one of the cops, who was currently keeping an eye on the Jacobs home for twenty-four hours, to give an update of any movements at the home took a simple phone call.