“Don’t know,” he answered.

I swallowed. “We need to talk,” I informed him, deciding it was time. Definitely time. Way passed time. My emotional Rottweiler was growling warningly telling me if I didn’t do something soon, it would be too late.

“All right,” Vance agreed, his hand moving away from my body but it came up then pulled my robe down my shoulder.

“Crowe, seriously,” I shrugged my shoulder to try to keep the robe in place but he already had it down my arm and then it was off on one side.

His hand slid around my waist to my back and he pulled me to him, his mouth going to my neck. “Talk,” he said there and I admitted to myself that I liked it when he spoke against my neck, it felt good.

“You have to listen,” I said to him, feeling Grade Three rise to Grade Four and being unable to do anything about it when his lips hit my ear and he traced the outer edges with his tongue.

“I’m listening,” he murmured in my ear when he was done.

A shiver went through me.

Okay, whatever. I had to move on before I lost the will to move on.

He wanted it this way, fine.

“We have to stop seeing each other,” I announced.

I’d lost track of his hand, what with his mouth at my ear, but now I felt it pull my nightgown to my waist and then his hand slid down inside my underwear and cupped my ass.

Oh crap.

That felt good too.

“How about we stop seein’ each other tomorrow?” Vance suggested.

“Crowe…” I started, getting the distinct impression he wasn’t taking me seriously but he stopped me speaking by kissing me. He pulled out my ponytail holder and my hair fell around us.

When his mouth disengaged from mine, I was breathing heavily and his lips slid back to my neck.

“How’re you feelin’?” he asked quietly.

I nodded. At that point, with his hand at my ass and his lips at my neck, I was feeling fine.

His head came back and he looked at me. His eyes were warm, his face soft and sexy and his hand at my behind moved to the small of my back. He started stroking me lightly there with his fingertips and tingles were sliding across my skin.

“Are you tender?” he went on and I realized what he was asking.

I shook my head.

One of his hands pulled back my hair and wrapped it around his fist, the other hand went from the small of my back, sliding across my side to cup my breast.

When his thumb stroked my nipple I shot to Grade Five.

He kissed me again, deep and lots of tongue then soft, sweet, light, quick kisses then lots of tongue again, the whole time his thumb stroked my nipple and his hand was fisted in my hair.

By the time he stopped kissing me, I was firmly established at Grade Six.

I completely forgot about not seeing him anymore, shrugged off the other side of my robe and threw it over the back of the couch. Then I yanked his t-shirt out of his jeans, he let go of my hair, did an ab curl and I pulled the tee over his head and tossed it aside. My mouth went to his collarbone, down his chest, exploring, watching the muscles contract, fascinated and so turned on I took myself to Grade Seven.

When I made it to his stomach and was sliding lower, using my lips and my tongue, he pulled me up and kissed me again, hot and to the edge of control.

“I want you to ride me,” he murmured against my mouth and just those words shot me to Grade Eight. His eyes looked into mine. “You think you could do that?” he asked.

I bit my lip and nodded. I was pretty sure I could do that, if not I was a quick learner.

His hand went back into my panties, sliding them part the way down my behind and he whispered, lips still against my mouth, “Take off your underwear.”

My heart was beating so hard, I thought he had to be able to feel it. I swung my h*ps and legs up to the side, pulled off my underwear and tossed them to the floor. When I finished, to hide the fact that I felt somewhat embarrassed by what I’d just done, I put my mouth on his and kissed him.

One of his hands was at my ass, the other one between us working at his belt and fly, his mouth and tongue went to my neck, my tingles turned to shivers, the shivers to trembles. I was teetering on the edge of Grade Nine and he wasn’t even inside me yet.

“You sat there, facin’ a drug dealer across the table, totally in control. Like you were made of ice,” Vance whispered against my neck. “I was so f**king proud of you.”

Oh my God.

He did not just say that.

“Vance,” I breathed, my heart racing for a new reason, a different kind of warmth spreading through me.

His fingers curled around my wrist, pulled my hand between us and wrapped it around him. My head shot around and I stared at him. I’d never touched a man like that before, nowhere near that.

“Sit up,” he ordered softly before I could freak out.

He kept my hand where it was, I positioned myself to sit astride him, pulling up my knees on the couch, lifting up my torso and as I did our hands together guiding him, he slid inside me and then gently Vance pulled our hands away.

Then I was up and he had filled me.

It was nice. Grade Nine nice.

“Wow,” I whispered.

His hands came to my h*ps and he coaxed me to move. It didn’t take a lot of coaxing, it came naturally. I moved, found my rhythm, one of Vance’s hands at my waist, one cupping my ass. It was great to be in control. It was unbelievable.

I watched him as I moved. His eyes were locked on mine, that intense, possessive “mine” look in them. If anything, it made me breathe faster, my heart tripping in my chest, the trembles gathering, joining forces, gaining momentum and then shooting between my legs.

“Come closer,” Vance demanded and without hesitation I leaned into him. “Hold on to me,” he ordered and I put my hands on his shoulders and he again looked me in the eyes.

That’s when he bucked, slamming inside me. I moaned. I couldn’t help it, it felt so good. He did it again and again and I learned what he meant by riding him and if I thought it was unbelievable before, I was mistaken, this was unbelievable.

His hand went between us. He touched me at the exact right spot and my h*ps jerked. I moved with his hand and his bucking hips. I bent closer, my chest against his, my lips against his and he kissed me.

I was close, heading toward Grade Ten like a rocket.

“Say my name,” he demanded.

I opened my eyes, looked into his, he slammed into me again, his finger pressing deep and moving.