He smiled and kissed her, soft and slow at first, giving her time.

She didn’t need it.

Running her hands down his gorgeous back, she cupped his most excellent ass and pulled him in, hoping to get him hot and heavy again.

He lifted his head and raised a brow. “In a hurry?”

“As a matter of fact.”

He was smiling when he skimmed a hand down her belly, heading for her shorts, and suddenly she realized-it was broad daylight. What the hell had she been thinking? It was bright in the room. He’d be able to see every single fault on her body. “You know, I’m thinking maybe-”

He shook his head. “No thinking.”

“Yes, but it’s so light, and-”

“I want to see you.” His voice was low and husky, and as if it possessed the magic to both calm and seduce her, her body arched up into him.

His mouth was still curved in a smile as he looked deep into her eyes, a warm, sexy smile that held lots of promise as his hands came up, his thumbs caressing her jaw. “It’s going to be okay, Harley.”

“Yeah, well, you know I can’t turn my brain off. It’s a problem-”

He kissed her. Long and wet and deep, and just like that, her brain obeyed his silent but effective demand and turned right off. He kissed her for long moments, revving her up again as he held himself braced on his elbows, careful to keep his weight from crushing her.

As for her, careful had flown the coop. In fact, she was feeling as far from careful as she could get, practically writhing with need beneath his long, hard body.

Unconcerned with the state she was in, he ran a large warm hand over her throat, her collarbone…her breast, where he paused to play with the pebbled tip. “I love your skin.” He bent to suck on her neck. “So soft…”

His skin wasn’t bad either, all sleek and smooth and hard, and suddenly she blessed the bright daylight. She couldn’t stop touching him, running her hands over him, moaning when he slid a thigh between hers, spreading her, making room for him to lie between her parted legs so that his hard sex cradled against her core.

God, she wanted him.

His mouth between her br**sts, he turned his head and slid his tongue over a nipple. With a gasp, she arched up into him, gliding her hands beneath the loose waistband of his jeans, squeezing his ass again, pressing him into her.

Obliging, he rocked into her, and she shivered. “Off,” she said, slipping her hands around to try to pop open his jeans so that she could get her hands on something else. He kneeled up, giving her access, and she hummed in pleasure as her fingers wrapped around him.

He was big and hot and velvety smooth. When she stroked him, he let out a sound that reminded her of a huge wild cat, like he was both growling and purring at the same time as he thrust up in her hands.

He tugged open her shorts, then pulled them and her panties off, tossing both over his shoulder. Pushing her legs apart, his hands slid from her knees to her inner thighs, caressing as he went, teasing her into a writhing mass of desperation.

“Easy,” he whispered, and then slowly, with devastating precision, outlined her with the pad of a single finger, back and forth until she was so wet and ready that she was crying out for him, begging. No easy way about it.

“Please,” she gasped, thrusting her hips up mindlessly. “Oh, please.”

He slid two fingers deep, and on his second long, slow, sure stroke, she exploded.

While she struggled to return to her senses, a couple of things hit her at once. Not only had she done it again, come without warning, she actually had a death grip on him, and her teeth were clamped on his throat. She was panting for breath, her hand still wrapped around his hot and pulsing length, mindlessly stroking him.

“Harley,” he whispered in a raw voice, and thrust into her hands, clearly close.

And then-her front door slammed-the worst possible sound that she could have heard in that moment.

“Christ,” TJ groaned, his face tight. His whole body tight.

Harley struggled to catch her breath. “You locked my door.”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his jaw to hers, his thumb brushing over her center again, making her jerk. “Maybe they’ll go away.”

“Harley!” Skye yelled from the living room. “I need you!”

With a low breath, TJ rolled off her to his back, flinging an arm over his eyes. “Fuck.”

Yeah. Just what Harley had hoped to be doing. She sat up to apologize, pulling TJ’s arm away from his face. His eyes were closed and he was chewing on his bottom lip, breathing hard. She ran a hand down his tight abs, but he groaned and caught her hand, stopping her. “I’m going to need a minute.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. I might cry, but I’m okay.”

“I owe you,” she said softly.

“I’ve heard that one before.”

“Harley!” Skye yelled again. “Who’s the guy?”

Harley held her breath. “What guy?”

“The one with you.”

“There’s no-”

“He left his shirt on the floor, inside out. Which indicates he was in a hurry, or otherwise occupied. Am I interrupting something good? ’Cause I can come back. How close to done are you?”

“Shoot me,” TJ muttered.

Harley’s gaze ran down his gorgeous, sinewy, tightly wound body, stopping where his jeans were completely undone, leaving little to the imagination. Her mouth watered. “I’ll do you one better,” she whispered. “I’ll shoot her.”