She hesitates for a moment, teeth sinking into her bottom lip, before she passes me her keys. “I’m not sure what the vodka-cran ratio was, and one beer seems less potent than what I was drinking.”

Dillion gives me directions back to the cottage. I park at her place, and she glances at the house, its windows darkened. We bypass the trailer and cut through the path between our lots, breaking into a run as the rain picks up again just before we reach the covered porch.

I fiddle with the lock, struggling to get it to open.

Dillion elbows me out of the way. “It’s tricky sometimes, especially when it’s damp.” She gets it to turn, and we finally tumble into the cottage, blissfully warm and dry and so much cleaner than the hunting cabin, despite the amount of clutter. I still haven’t tackled the inside, partly because I don’t want to disrupt the memories, and also because it’s a daunting task that feels like it will take an eternity. And I want to get the garage build underway. Cleaning it out has taken a lot longer than I expected.

Dillion glances around, eyes sliding across the open space, catching on trinkets, almost as though she’s cataloging all the things inside, accounting for them like a checklist. It occurs to me that she’s spent an incredible amount of time here. Far more than my few weeks a year plus holidays could ever account for.

A violent shiver rips through her, and she wraps her arms around herself, teeth chattering twice before her jaw flexes and she clamps them together.

“Hot shower?” I offer.

Her gaze swings to me, and she catches one side of her bottom lip between her teeth, the skin turning white briefly as it slides through on her nod.

“Alone or together?” I ask.

At the same time she says, “You’re coming with me.”

We both grin, and then we’re heading for the bathroom. I turn on the shower, testing the water to make sure it’s not scalding. I tried to adjust the pressure, but now it vacillates between jet stream and periodic trickle. We turn and step into each other’s personal space. Our mouths connect, and this time it’s not quite so frantic or intense. A slower build, the knowledge that we’re moving toward more, the anticipation of pleasure causing us to take our time.

It’s strange how we seem to know what the other is planning to do before we do it. Dillion and I both reach for the hem of each other’s shirt at the same time, fingertips brushing over cool skin that pebbles in a wave. We break the kiss long enough to get our shirts over our heads, and then we’re connected again, skin to skin, because Dillion isn’t wearing a bra.

Her breasts are small but full and pert, her tight nipples brushing below my chest. She’s a head shorter than me, forcing me to tip my chin down and her to tilt hers up. We kiss again, hands roaming over exposed flesh. I brush the underside of her breast, and she arches and moans, her hands gliding down my back. She cups my ass and gives it a firm squeeze before she follows the edge of my belt around to the buckle.

We break apart again, tugging, unbuttoning, unzipping each other and then removing our own pants, leaving me naked and Dillion in a pair of plain black panties. She hooks her thumbs into the waistband and drags them down her thighs, eyes locked on mine for a moment until gravity and curiosity pull them downward. Her tongue peeks out when her gaze reaches my erection, thick and straining toward her.

A slow grin forms, and she kicks her panties off and steps back into me. Her palms land on my chest, fingertips tickling my skin as they glide down and brush gently along the length of me. My erection kicks, and her smile widens, fingers wrapping around me.

I let my gaze drop as she strokes slowly, thumb sweeping over the ridge to the head and then back down again. “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun tonight, Van.”

I nod my agreement and pull the shower curtain back. We step in together, still touching, still exploring each other’s bodies. We soap each other up, teasing and taunting, fingers dipping and skipping over sensitive parts as the bathroom fills with steam and we warm ourselves with body heat and sensual touches.

When the water starts to cool, I turn off the shower and we dry each other off, kissing paths along erogenous zones, seeing who can elicit the deepest groan or the loudest sigh. We’re kissing our way across the living room, still naked, bumping into furniture along the way and laughing into each other’s mouths, when I nearly trip backward over the coffee table. We finally make it to my bedroom.

I’m glad I took the time to make my bed this morning and put the laundry in a basket. It’s a small space, just enough room for a bed and a dresser, but it doesn’t need to be more.

I sit down on the mattress and pull her between my thighs. Her breasts are right in my face, begging for attention, so I latch onto her nipple. Dillion arches and slides her fingers into my hair on a low moan. The other hand drops to my thigh, fingertips ghosting higher until they graze my shaft.

When she makes a move to wrap her hand around me, I disengage from her nipple and lift my head enough so I can meet her slightly disgruntled, confused gaze. That bewilderment grows even more when I shake my head. At least until I say, “I’m already too jacked up; I don’t need the extra attention right now.”

Her eyes flare. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” I flick her nipple with my tongue. “Don’t make me regret telling you that.”

She’s about to reply when I latch on again and suck. Her fingers tighten in my hair, and her eyes roll up.

Everything about Dillion seems to be a contradiction. She’s intense, harsh, and hard. She’s soft, sweet, and saucy. And I have a feeling she’s a bit of an adventure in the bedroom.

I wrap my hands around her waist and edge a knee between her thighs. “Open for me, please.”

And she does. Immediately. Without question. I slide both knees between her legs and set her on my thighs, but far back, so her ass is resting on my knees.

“Hook your legs around mine,” I tell her.

She gives me a questioning look but complies, probably wondering what the hell I’m doing. Even I’m wondering that. I don’t know her that well, not really, but I feel like I do, as if I’ve known her my entire life.

Regardless, we’re here and naked, and she’s made it very clear she wants the same thing as I do—connection and orgasms.

I’ve missed this feeling. The one where I get to share power with someone else. To give and take. And know that when she comes, it will be because she trusts me enough to let go, even if we haven’t spent that much time together without biting each other’s heads off or pushing buttons just to get a reaction.

When her feet are hooked around the backs of my calves, I spread my legs, opening her wider. She jolts with the sudden movement, and her fingernails dig into the back of my neck until she steadies again.

I cover her knees with my palms. “Okay?”

She arches a brow. “I guess it depends on what you’re planning to do now.”

I slide my hands up the inside of her thighs, stopping when I reach the apex, and grin. “Make you feel good.”

“Have at it, then.” Her own smile is mischievous.

I brush along either side of her sex with my thumbs, but I keep my gaze locked on hers, at least until Dillion’s eyes flutter closed. Then I look down, drinking in the sight of her spread wide open for me. I tease her until her toes dig into the backs of my calves and bring her to climax with my fingers, spurred on by her low murmurs of encouragement.