“You don’t gotta remind me, Duchess, you gotta remind you.”

Oh drat.

I was getting angry, I could feel it.

“I’m sorry?” I said quietly.

“No woman had my ring on her finger when I got into bed with you last night.”

“Yes, well,” I leaned toward him, “I’m glad you brought that up.”

“Because you’re pissed I did it?”

“Yes!”

“Then why’d you wake up at two and stay in bed with me until mornin’?”

I stared at him at a loss for words mainly because any explanation I could give him I was never going to give him. And I realized, belatedly, even if it was to give him something as important as a rock solid alibi when the police popped by to question him as a potential murder suspect, perhaps I shouldn’t have shared that tidbit.

Then I announced, “I’m leaving,” and I started to walk around him but he took a quick step to his left and caught me by the waist, pulling me in front of him. “Take your hands off me!” I snapped but his arms wrapped around me tight, bringing me up full frontal to his body.

“This is something we both wanna explore,” he declared, my eyes narrowed and I wedged my arms between us, my hands against his chest.

“This?”

“What we got, what’s happenin’ here, you and me.”

“It is not!”

“No?”

“No.”

He looked over my head and clipped out, “Christ, you’re full of shit.”

“I am not!”

He looked back at me, giving me a shake. “Oh yeah, Nina, you are.”

“You don’t even know me!”

“I know enough I wanna know more.”

“Well, you can’t know more. I’m leaving.”

“You’re stayin’.”

“You can’t keep me here.”

“I can.”

“That’s –”

“And you wanna stay.”

I shook my head in disbelief and cried, “You’re infuriating!”

“And you love every f**kin’ second.”

My mouth made a “poof” noise at such a display of arrogance and I pushed against his chest. His hand slid up my spine, bringing me closer, pinning my hands between us as I watched his neck bend.

I had a feeling I knew where this was going.

“Max,” I warned, my body bracing.

“Quiet,” he ordered softly. “Got a point to make, honey.”

“Max!” I snapped.

“Let’s see how good this could be,” he muttered, his eyes on my mouth and I knew, I just knew, he was going to kiss me.

“Max, don’t you –”

But his fingers had sifted into my hair against my scalp cupping my head, holding me steady and his mouth came down on mine, cutting off my words.

And considering my mouth was open, he didn’t miss the opportunity to slide his tongue inside.

My body froze when his tongue touched mine.

Then my hands curled into his shirt and my body melted.

His tongue felt good, it tasted good, it was all just good. Not just good. It was better than good. I missed this, I loved kissing and, Lord, did I miss it.

My eyes drifted closed, my head tilted and that was it, I was lost.

And then Max really kissed me and I became so lost, I never wanted to be found.

It wasn’t good.

It was astounding. He was just as amazing a kisser as he looked amazing, maybe more, and that was saying something.

My toes curled in my boots, my hands glided up his chest to wrap my arms around his neck, my body pressed the length of his and my stomach did a somersault before it plummeted in a delicious way. I felt a tingle between my legs that was more than delicious, it was luscious and, given all of that, I had no choice but to open myself up to him.

And I did.

When I did, Max took and he took and he took. And I gave and I didn’t care if he drained me dry, in fact, I wanted him to.

His mouth broke from mine, his head came up, my fingers which were in his hair put on pressure and he whispered, his gravelly voice actually hoarse, “Jesus, honey.”

“More,” I breathed, not even opening my eyes and his mouth came back to mine, he gave me what I wanted and I loved every bleeding second.

Somewhere in the back of my head, I realized he was moving, taking me with him, shuffling us what I understood was toward the couch and I was happy to be going there, couldn’t wait to get there, couldn’t wait to explore Max more and let him explore me, when the phone rang.

On the second ring, Max’s head came up and he stopped our movement.

“Don’t.” It sounded like a plea and it was coming from my mouth

“I’ve gotta, Duchess.” His voice was still rough and he sounded like he didn’t want to but when his arm left my waist and his palm touched my cheek, I opened my eyes and saw in his face that I was right, he didn’t want to but he had to. “Don’t lose that look,” he ordered, bent forward, kissed my forehead then let me go and with long strides, walked to the phone on top of the roll top.

I watched him go and listened to him answer with a, “Yeah?”

I shook my head trying to clear it but I could still feel his arms around me; his lips on mine; his tongue in my mouth; his soft, thick hair under my hands; his hard body against mine and I wanted it back. I couldn’t shake off that feeling of want even though I tried. It was like it was born in me, natural, everything I was or everything I was meant to be and there was no way to get rid of it.

“Now?” Max asked, sounding incredulous and a bit annoyed but also sounding like he was trying to hide both. “Okay, yeah, calm down. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” I stared at him as his eyes sliced to me, his face wasn’t soft with desire like it had been five seconds ago, it was tight and impatient. “Yeah, I said I’d take care of this, I’ll take care of it.” Another pause and he didn’t unlock his eyes from mine before he said softly, “Don’t worry, I’ll be there. Fifteen.”

Then he hit the button for off, it beeped and I felt my body twitch at the sound. Sanity was returning but Max was right in front of me, impeding its progress.

“I gotta go.”

I just nodded.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back.”