“I knew you were going to come,” he said, “for me.”

That was when he kissed her, shifting fast and taking over, gathering her hard and bringing her in tight to his body as his mouth found hers. She was stiff against him, but that didn’t last. As he licked his way into her, she went loose all over, and man, that was good—just as good as the way she tasted.

Talk about transformation. All that pent-up frustration he’d been riding got rechanneled into lust for her, and the heady surge of erotic power was his first clue that this casual hookup was going to be different. But then he didn’t think of anything much else. She was the perfect receptacle for his burn, her tongue meeting his, her spine arching her forward, her arms shooting around his shoulders to hold him in return.

When she pulled away briefly, he knew what she was worried about.

“No lock on the door,” he told her. Because the last thing the club needed was an accusation of false imprisonment. “But the thing opens inward, so if you want privacy, I can f**k you up against it.”

Her eyes widened, as if she were trying to figure out whether the coarse language offended her or turned her on even more.

When she brought his mouth back down to hers, he took that as a “wow, what a great idea to body-block everyone out of our little piece of privacy.”

Roger that. Duke maneuvered her against the panels and went for her turtleneck, yanking it free of her waistband so he could slip his palms onto the smooth, warm skin of her torso. In response, she put her arms up, and he didn’t wait for further instruction; he swept the shirt up and over her head, tossing it aside.

Nice bra.

Little girlie for his tastes, but he so didn’t mind that lace on her in the slightest—through the peekaboo weave, he could see her tight pink ni**les, and as much as he was enjoying what was going on with her lips, he wanted at all that, too.

No reason to bother removing those fragile cups. He nuzzled his way south, kissing her throat, her collarbones, the smooth plane of her sternum—and then going on to her breast. Extending his tongue, he went for that nipple, licking at the tip of it, sucking it in, running his lips back and forth against the combination of lace and flesh. And she liked the attention he was paying her. Her hands dug into his hair and tugged at his head—not to push him away, though. Hell, no. She was holding him to her.

He didn’t need the encouragement.

Man, he loved the way she smelled—as well as the fact that she’d showered before she came to him: The undercarriage of her hair was just a little damp, and on her skin, a faint fragrance lingered. No heavy lotions and stuff for her, not like the working girls here at the club. Delicate soap, something natural and clean.

Looks out of place here—which I can’t help but think recommends her.

At least he and his boss could agree on one thing tonight.

Easing back, Duke hooked both of the straps at her shoulders and braced himself to see her properly. Pulling downward and caressing her upper arms as he went, he revealed what he had been attending to.

“Fuck …” he breathed.

Talk about perfect. Nothing but creamy skin and those tight little ni**les he could now get to without anything in his way.

With every inhale she took, her br**sts swayed ever so slightly…

The groan that boiled up out of him sounded like the growl of a beast—and wasn’t that pretty damn accurate. At the moment, he was feeling about as civilized as a panther.

And this sweet-smelling female who was now half na**d in front of him?

She was going to be his meal.

Chapter Eighteen

Cait was out of her mind, and she wasn’t going to do one damned thing about it. The man who had just kissed her like no one else ever had was now taking off her bra—and for once in her life, she wasn’t freaking out over the mole on the breast on the right, or the fact that maybe she wasn’t precisely symmetrical, or … all those other real or imagined things that had previously come to mind when she’d been getting na**d in other circumstances.

The only thing she cared about was getting his mouth on her without any barriers—

“Fuuuuck,” he said deeply.

Well, now. Wasn’t that an entire thesaurus worth of compliments—a you-are-so-beautiful-totally-hot-freaking-awesome-blowing-my-mind all rolled up together.

And then he growled. Like, actually let out that sound she’d only read about men making.

She didn’t have any time to dwell on it, though.

With a surge of his powerful body, Duke dropped down and licked at one of her ni**les, his attention turning to a suckling as he snaked a hold around her waist and bent her backward. As he went for the other one, her body got torqued into a completely unnatural position, but she didn’t care. Not with those lips tugging at her, not with his soft hair once again in her grip, not with that erection of his pushing into her hip.

His free hand went between her legs.

No preamble. No sweep up a thigh or sneak downward. No I’m-going-to-touch-you-now.

He took what he wanted.

And she orgasmed.

As if he knew exactly where he’d taken her, his lips broke contact with her breast and he moved upward, retaking control of her mouth, swallowing the harsh sounds she made, muting her as he worked her sex through her jeans. And it was funny, she wasn’t worried in the slightest that someone might hear her—especially as his fingers pressed in and rubbed the hard knot of the seam against her core. If she screamed the place down? Fine. Whatever. He was helping her ride out the release even as he kept the pleasure going, and her body wanted it all—wanted everything he could give her.

He didn’t stop. With another release riding hard on the heels of her first, her nails clawed into his shoulders, and she bent her knees, opening her legs farther to give him more access—which was a good idea, but there was a problem. With her thighs as weak as they were, her balance went off-kilter—

Duke was on it. With a quick move, he picked her up like she didn’t weigh a thing.

Aloft in his arms, she had a brief, striking impression of … pure masculine power. He was built all over, as if his body had been carved, not born, the muscles clenching under his clothes and his skin as he held her off the floor. This was not Thom, a lanky, soft-bellied college boy. This was a man in his physical prime, a male who was sexually aroused and had every intention of doing something about it.

A second later, she was sprawled on the floor.

“Gotta make sure the door stays closed,” he purred against her breast.

And then he was on top of her, his weight pushing her into the linoleum, threatening to crush her—which was just all the more erotic.

As his mouth found her ni**les again, she felt a tugging at her hips. Her jeans. He was attacking her zipper, then dragging the denim and her panties down her legs. Cool air hit the heat between her thighs, but that didn’t last long.

His hand went immediately back to where it had been, only this time with nothing between her slick core and his fingers. When he entered her, he recaptured her mouth, thrusting his tongue in against her as he dominated her sex down below—

Cait came even harder, biting her lip, arching up into his chest, the whirlwind both taking her out of her body and locking her in her skin as the sensations poured through her flesh.

And then there was a brief lull, when the pressure on top of her relented.

A jangling sound. His belt. He was taking off his—

“Condom,” she said hoarsely.

“Got one.”

Thank God, because she didn’t. In truth, she’d thought through so little about this. Although even if she’d sketched it out? She wouldn’t have come close to the real experience. So much hotter and more raw—

Duke reared up on his knees and gave her a shock.

He’d shoved his jeans down low on his h*ps and his sex was tremendous, so thick and long, standing out straight from his body.

This was going to get … even more intense.

The condom was a Trojan, and he tore off the corner of the blue square with his sharp white teeth, the foil ripping open with obliging ease. And then, as she watched him sheathe himself, she had to bite her lower lip again, especially as his blunt fingers took care of business over the heavy head and that thick shaft.

A split second later, he was on top of her again.

Cait took over from there. When she gripped him, he bore down on his teeth and cursed, his head rearing back on his neck, the cords of muscle popping out on either side.

“Jesus …” he groaned.

She felt the exact same way. Except as she guided him to her, she braced herself. It had been a long time for her, and given the way he was built?

She had no interest in stopping this, however. If anything, each level of this improbable, out-of-control hookup just incinerated her even further—and she relished the inferno precisely for its burn: in the midst of it, nothing else existed, her terror in the parking garage seared away, her weeks of worrying about Sissy obliterated, her years of loneliness and her sadness even still about Thom gone, gone, gone.

She was beyond ready for this. Had been for a while, and not in the several-hours sense.

With Duke poised to enter her, he thrust his arm underneath her shoulders and brought her face close to his. His eyes held hers—

Just before he surged forward, he looked away.

Someone like him being shy? Impossible—

Pain lanced through her, stiffening her body, snuffing out the heat in a split second. And as Duke froze, those eyes shot back to hers in something close to alarm.

“No,” she muttered. “It’s just been a while for me. Don’t you dare stop.”

To prove the point, she thrust her hands down his powerful torso to the small of his back—where she went even lower, pushing under the loose seat of his pants to his totally tight ass. Jacking her h*ps up and pushing him to her, she joined them properly, from tip to base, deep within her core.

The stretching, the filling, the electric shock of pleasure, it brought back the fire—and that was even before he started pumping.

Stranger or not, he was careful with her, moving slowly at first, giving her a chance to adjust. And oh, God, adjust she did. Her sex reloosened as the friction increased, that great body above her own thrusting with growing urgency, another crest building deep inside of her until he was clapping against her, holding her roughly in place … f**king her.

This was not making love. There was nothing polite about where they were now or where they were headed—and she wanted it just like this, hard, fast, brutal.

It was a shock to realize that she was having the sex of her life, right here on the floor of this bald room, in almost-public. But holy hell was it good.

With a jerk, she brought his mouth back to hers and he was right on it, kissing her as his h*ps pistoned over and over again until there was no way to keep their lips together anymore.

Breaking off, he groaned again. “You’re so tight. Fuck …”

His head dropped into her neck, and the idea that he was struggling to keep it together made her feel even more sexual, more liberated.

Oh, God, he smelled so good. And his hair was incredibly soft. And his beard scratched against her cheek…

In the back of her mind, she took notes on as much as she could absorb, well aware that she needed to remember each part of this, the whole thing. Because even though she was out of her mind, she wasn’t kidding herself. This was a one-time-only—and it was so totally worth—

Her third orgasm was the most powerful of the bunch, making the others seem like just warm-ups, the rhythmic pulses contracting through her, her eyes clamping shut so hard she saw stars—and he followed along with her, his erection stabbing in and kicking inside of her over and over again…

And then it was done.

So still.

They both went so still except for their breathing, which remained haggard.

In the aftermath, her body glowed from the exertion, her heart rate slowing gradually, the heat rolling out of her muscles and her skin until she began to feel the cool floor beneath her.

So good. The whole thing was exactly what she needed.

Except … as the silence began to sink into her addled brain, she thought, Now what? She had no clue how this was supposed to work—

“Duke?” a male voice said on the other side of the door. “You in there?”

Oh. Crap. Talk about a reality injection.

Her … lover, she supposed was the word for it, lifted his head and shot a glare upward. He also cranked his leg around and shoved his knee into the steel panel to make sure it wasn’t opened—and in the process, reminded her that they were still very much joined.

Dear Lord, what had she gotten herself into?

“No, I’m not,” he said in a guttural snarl.

Pause. “Duke, my man, you got someone in there with you?”