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  and start kissing her again. “Your plane was there, ready to go.”

  “So was Brody’s,” he reminded her.

  “Yes, but…”

  He kissed her again, lightly, softly, sweetly, and yet nothing in her reaction felt sweet. A new tension had gripped her body, one that had nothing to do with fear, and she found herself arching up into him, her fingers digging into the comforter at her sides.

  Noah lifted his head, waiting for an answer.

  “I wanted it to be you,” she admitted.

  “Because I’m an easy mark?”

  “No. God, no.” She closed her eyes. A hiding habit, she knew, an especially silly one since she was as exposed as she could get, but she needed a minute for this one. Because if she couldn’t give him the truth about what she had to do, she was going to give him the truth about this.

  Needed to give him the truth about this.

  But then he stroked her again, his touch still light and easy, and once again she lost her grasp on her thought process. “You are not an easy mark,” she managed.

  She had no trouble reading his expression when he lifted his head, no trouble seeing that his features had softened, heated. His fingers were still on her thighs, his thumb gently stroking, and her body, with a mind of its own, twitched, letting her legs fall farther open.

  Crazy, she thought. She was crazy wild to expose herself this way, letting him see…

  Everything.

  His gaze dipped, looking directly at what she’d revealed, and then an almost unbearably sexy sound left his throat as he slowly…dipped…his head…and touched his lips to the groove at the very top of her thigh.

  “I—I wanted it to be you,” she managed. “Because I felt like I knew you, like we had a connection.”

  He shifted his lips along her hip, her belly, to her other hip.

  While she didn’t so much as breathe.

  “We’ve never talked about anything other than the weather and the route you wanted me to fly,” he said directly against her skin. “Which begs the question…why me?”

  “I…” His mouth was working for her, it really was. “I felt it.” God, had she felt it. She wanted to pull him up so that she could think, so that she could make some sense. Instead, she continued to fist her hands in the down comforter at her sides and let him drive her to the very edge. “I kn—knew you’d help me.”

  “Yeah.” He let out a short breath and touched his forehead to her belly, his lips tantalizingly close to ground zero. “Do you know why?” he asked.

  “Um—”

  He slid his fingers beneath her bottom, cupping her, then lifted his head and leveled her with those melting eyes. “Do you know why?” he repeated.

  “No.”

  “Because I had a crush on you.”

  “You—” He had a crush on me. “Noah—”

  “A big, fat crush.”

  Whenever she’d seen him at Sky High, he’d been courteous, professional, distant.

  And sexy as hell.

  “You never gave me the time of day,” she said.

  “No, Princess, that was you. You were always dressed to the hilt, looking hot enough to melt butter right off your skin, and yet you never seemed to know it. You’d smile, but rarely speak to me.”

  “I liked you.”

  His laugh was soft, and self-deprecatory. “Yeah, well, I fantasized about it being more than like. I wanted to kiss you. I wanted…” He tugged, and his face was right there, between her legs.

  “This,” he said. “I wanted this.” With characteristic bluntness, he looked at her. Looked for a long, breathless beat with his hair brushing her belly, his breath warming her skin.

  She knew what he saw. A woman’s body, up close and personal, complete with flaws.

  He didn’t say a word.

  And she couldn’t take it, she just couldn’t, so she wriggled up to reach the light and turned it off.

  With a low laugh against her skin, he surged up and flicked it on again.

  Oh, God. She tried to relax, but she just couldn’t, and knowing it, she reached up and flicked it back off.

  Silence reigned.

  And then it grew, and grew some more, until it was like another person in the room. Realizing she was holding her breath, she let it out.

  And Noah sighed. “Hiding again.”

  “No, I…” Okay, yes. Yes, she was.

  But he left the light off, and she breathed some more, her entire body quivering with anticipation.

  “After all we’ve been through, you don’t have to hide, not from me.” Dipping his head, he stroked his thumb unerringly over her, just where she needed it, and then—oh, God, and then—his tongue.

  He did it again, and then again, just a little harder, a little faster, and she gasped and arched up, right into his mouth.

  “Ah, yeah. That’s perfect. You’re perfect.” And holding her open, he proceeded to drive her out of her own mind and straight into another mind-blowing orgasm.

  While she was still shuddering, he crawled up her body, nudging at her center with a most impressive erection.

  “Tell me the rest, Bailey.”

  Was he kidding? She couldn’t even put a thought together, much less a sentence.

  “What else are you hiding?” he wondered with another nudge that made her want to wrap her legs around his waist and draw him inside. “Bailey?”

  “Nothing.”

  Liar.

  He didn’t say it, but the word danced around them in the dark as if he had.

  “I need to know,” he said. “To keep us safe and happy.”

  And then reaching out, he once again flicked on the light. Settling between her legs, he looked deep into her eyes. “And I want to keep us very, very safe and happy.”

  Chapter 13

  Bailey arched up, helplessly opening for him, but he held back, damn him.

  “I guess the next question,” he said in a thick voice, pressing his lips to her throat, “is are you going to help me keep us safe and happy?”

  “Noah—”

  But he pushed inside of her and all thought capacity shrank to the pinnacle of sensations running through her.

  Their twin sighs of pleasure comingled in the air.

  “What else, Bailey?” he managed. “What else are you hiding?”

  “Nothing,” she gasped. Everything.

  Then he rocked deeper and she could scarcely breathe because he felt so good filling her, so right. Right. She’d never felt anything like it. He was inside her, thick and full and heavy. Perfect. She had to abandon all thought, abort all reason, because there wasn’t room for anything with what he was making her feel, which was alive, gloriously alive.

  “It’s just you and me,” he ground out as he moved within her. “Just us. You can tell me.”

  She clutched at him, needing him to move again. Then he did just that, his thrust scooting her up on the bed. She might have hit her head on the headboard if he hadn’t slapped his hands against it, bracing them as he slid in and out of her. Even as she lost her mind, she shook her head. Surely it couldn’t really be like this, this good, this amazing. They were two virtual strangers, and yet…and yet she’d never felt so in tune with anyone in her life.

  Somehow he knew her, knew her body, knew what she needed, when she needed it, and how to give it to her. He filled her senses, had her writhing, arching, begging. Begging in some wordless, gasping voice she hardly recognized as hers, all while he brought her to the very edge and then, damn him, held her there, a panting, dewy, sweaty mass of nerve endings, reduced to total dependency…

  “Come,” he demanded in a rough, low voice, and stroked a thumb over where they were joined.

  She saw stars, and when he did it again, with slightly more pressure, she went off like a bottle rocket, coming, going…coming again. Or still…

  Vaguely she realized he had stopped moving, except for the trembling of his arms where he held himself rigid above her, and she opened her eye