“TC?” Lucas asked, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“Short for Tom Cat,” she said. “He’s a stray. I’ve tried to adopt him, but he won’t come inside. So I feed and love up on him whenever he shows up. It’s all he’ll allow.”

“He doesn’t look like he’s having trouble getting enough food,” he said diplomatically.

Molly laughed. “I think everyone on the block feeds him. He’s got a good gig. When I’m not quick enough to fill his bowl, he hangs off the front door screen and stares at me until I come outside.” She fumbled through her purse for her keys, which Lucas took from her.

He unlocked the door. She moved inside the dark place without hesitation, having the benefit of knowing the layout. He followed and when he heard her drop her keys, he bent to grab them—at the same time she did the same thing.

They bumped into each other and cracked heads. Hard. He saw stars, but reached for her, knowing she’d gotten it worse. “Shit. Sorry. You okay?”

“No! You’ve got the hardest head on the planet!”

“Are you sure?” he asked, gently running his hand over her head. “Because I’m thinking we’re probably tied in that category.”

They were face-to-face, plastered up against each other. The air seemed to crackle and they stared at each other for a long beat. Finally, he felt Molly take a deep breath. “You know,” she said softly, “Sadie’s pretty invested in me letting you be The One for a night.”

He felt a surprised smile curve his lips. “Is that right?”

“Yeah.”

“And how about you?”

“I didn’t want to admit it, but I’m starting to rethink things.”

Lucas was pretty sure his mind was playing tricks on him. But the truth was, he wanted her more than he’d wanted anyone in a long time, maybe ever, and that was saying something. He ran his hands up and down her arms and could feel goose bumps covering her skin.

And it wasn’t from being cold.

She was still leaning into him. He was six feet. Molly was five foot two in her bare feet, but she had a love affair for sexy-as-hell shoes, the higher the better, which he suspected played a role in her leg and back problems. At the moment she wore boots with at least three inches on them, though they were covered with the green elf shoe covers. Still, they put her at a convenient height that could make them both very, very happy.

“Rethink away,” he murmured. “Let me know what you decide.”

Chapter 13

#Scrooge

Molly’s heart was pounding and she had no idea what she thought she was doing, rethinking anything to do with Lucas Knight.

Oh wait, she did know what she was doing.

She needed this. Needed him. It used to scare her how much she wanted him as well, but realism was her friend. They were both adults. They could do this and move on because, one, Lucas didn’t intend to get any more attached than she did, and two, it was pitch-dark and he wouldn’t be able to see a damn thing.

But even as she thought it, the electricity flickered back on and the porch light shone in through the window.

She blinked up as Lucas whispered her name, and then his lips met hers in what started out as a light, questing connection but quickly turned hot and insistent.

She looked up when she felt his arms tighten on her, finding his gaze dark and intense on hers. “You finished rethinking things?” he asked. “Because—”

He broke off whatever he’d planned on saying when she slid her hands beneath his shirt to touch . . . yum . . . hot, smooth skin and the tough lean muscles that flexed as he tightened his grip on her.

“Molly,” he said, his voice a rough timbre. “I’m going to need the words.”

“I’m done rethinking,” she admitted.

“And?”

“And I want you. For tonight.”

The jacket that was his, the one that he’d wrapped around her shoulders, was removed in the next breath, his own shirt next. Then he nudged her a few feet until the backs of her legs hit her couch. His mouth still on hers, he lowered them both to the cushions, settling his weight carefully over her. “Where’s the light?” he asked, voice husky thick.

“No light.”

He paused for the slightest of beats but then carried on, kissing across her jaw to her neck and down, whispering inaudibles all soft and sexy-like. She couldn’t concentrate enough to soak in the actual words, but the erotic intent reached her just fine.

Then he moved further south, his quick, talented fingers tugging the dress off her shoulders, along with the straps of her bra. When he captured a bare nipple in his mouth, the heat alone bowed her back and had her crying out. She tried biting her tongue to keep the helpless and revealing desperate sounds to herself, but she couldn’t shut herself up. Not then, and not when he smoothly divested her of the rest of her clothes.

And then his.

And then he was sliding off the couch, kneeling on the floor, nudging her legs open with his big, warm, callused hands as he headed southbound again, nibbling his way down her belly. A minute later he unerringly found the homeland, and in a shockingly short amount of time, her hands were fisted helplessly in his hair as she hovered on the verge of release.

And forget being quiet. She’d lost the ability to temper herself the minute he’d put his mouth on her. He worked her over using lips and teeth, and when he added his tongue into the mix, she burst with a shudder and a gasp that she couldn’t have held back if she’d tried.

He made a sound of deep, male satisfaction while she continued to attempt to suck more air into her lungs, gently kissing the inside of one thigh and then the other before shifting away for a second. She heard the crinkle of a condom packet and then he was back, sliding deep inside her in one slow, controlled push.

She’d forgotten how incredible it felt to be filled and stretched and taken with such carefully controlled power. Long, slow strokes, nearly all the way out and then back in deep and hard. It was more than she could take, and yet she wanted even more, showing him so by digging her fingers into the tense, fluidly shifting muscles of his back.

Lucas caught her wrists and pulled them away, linking his fingers with hers above her head as he rose over her, lifting his weight a little to better control his thrusts.

And for the first time, she wished she’d allowed the light. She couldn’t see much, a few flashes of his warrior’s body as he moved in the ambient porch light that slashed in from the gap in her shades. The sheen of his skin and the flex of the sinew moving beneath it, all the way down his chest and correlated abs to where they were joined. She watched, helplessly fascinated as his body surged into hers again and again. Unable to tear her gaze off him, she soaked him in, the way his neck was corded, his head thrown back in pleasure.

And then he dipped his head and caught her staring.

“Molly.” That was all he said, just her name in a low, strained voice, his expression caught between rapture and affection, and it might have been that completely unexpected emotion to send her spiraling over the edge again.

With a groan, he shifted, lowering his weight to his elbows, one hand sliding beneath her, arching her up to take him deeper. Now his entire body caressed hers with each movement and yet another wave began to build. Panting, she slid her hands into his hair and whispered his name as she continued to tremble. She could feel his mouth at her throat, feel the shudders of his own body as he let go of all that delicious control and gave into the erotic sensations.