Then I take him into my mouth. Remembering in vivid detail everything that drove him crazy the last time, I start slow, using gentle suction up and down his length until his fingers tighten painfully in my hair. Letting my fingernails dig into his inner thighs, just enough to make him growl, I increase the pace of my mouth.

“Use your hands…Christ…that’s how I like it. But you know that, don’t you? Know exactly how to make me go f**king crazy.”

I purr in my throat, sending vibrations up his flesh. Last time, this move is what sent him over the edge and today is no different. His muscles tighten everywhere we’re touching, his voice goes raw. Only this time, he holds back. Before I even sense him moving, he sits up and pulls my head away from his lap. He comes up on his knees and spins me around, putting me on my hands and knees in front of him. Calloused fingers trail down my spine and smooth over my bottom, sensitizing my skin even more, making me arch my back into his hands.

Across the room, I catch sight of us in the full-length mirror. Shane’s strong frame towering over mine, the exotic position, at least to me, is so provocative and trusting that arousal twists and turns inside me. He hasn’t noticed our reflection yet, so he’s not aware that I can see his face. The way he’s looking at me traps my next breath in my lungs. It’s as though he’s savoring the moment, cherishing the sight of me waiting for him. Then he sees me watching him in the mirror across the room and lust takes over, glazing his blue eyes. Keeping his gaze on me, he slides two fingers between my legs, applying pressure right where I’m dying for it. We both bite back at the sight of him touching me, of my body’s reaction.

After reaching into his discarded jeans for a condom and rolling it on, he grabs a pillow from the bed, tossing it down in front of me. “Scream into this.”

Then he thrusts inside me, pushing deep and holding while my voice cracks on a scream, muffled by the soft material of the pillow. He grips my hips and starts to move and honest to God, the sight of his muscular body taking me this way, watching it happen in the mirror, is the one of the most liberating experiences of my life. I’m not embarrassed or shy or worried about what comes afterward. I’m just alive. Shane’s abdomen flexes with each twist of his hips. My flesh gives under the bruising grip of his fingers. We’re both biting our lips to keep quiet, but the bed is creaking underneath me.

“Do you like watching me f**k you, girl?”

“God, yes,” I answer without hesitation. “D-do you like it?”

His eyes squeeze shut when I start pushing back against him, meeting his drives, urging him to go faster. “Is that a…serious question?” One of his hands leaves my hip to massage me where our bodies meet. He laughs under his breath when I have to drop my face into the pillow to moan. “Babe, it has to be soon. I don’t want it to end, but…”

“It’s too much.”

“Yes.” His hips are moving in a blur now. “Fuck, yes.”

Watching him struggle to hold back for me, seeing his arm and neck muscles strain with the effort, sends me crashing into pleasure. I force myself to keep my eyes open so I can see him come apart…and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. He falls forward to press his chest against my back as he pushes deep and growls through his climax. His eyes never leave mine. I know he wants me to see it, what I do to him. What we do to each other.

A mess of emotions whirls in my chest, so intense I have to look away. Shane pulls me down onto the bed, tucking me against him before I can get up. He’s holding me so tight, I have no choice but to relax little by little. I’m afraid he’s going to give voice to what I sense hanging over us, so I’m relieved when he doesn’t. I want to stay in the dark where it’s easier and I don’t have to say words that will leave me vulnerable.

“So my plan was to come in here, fix you a cup of tea, and make slow, passionate love to you.”

I smile in response to the amusement in his voice.

“Of course, I also expected to find you in an oversized police department T-shirt.”

“Oh, I’m shouldering the blame?”

“Exactly.”

I yawn through a laugh, allowing myself to feel content for now. “You made two errors in judgment, I don’t drink tea—”

“I’ve noticed,” Shane says. “I’m convinced you’ve just never had anyone fix it for you properly. We’re going to remedy that now.”

Abruptly, he sits up. I roll over and snuggle into the sheets to watch him. He pulls on his pants and leaves them unbuttoned, then starts doctoring the cup of tea he’d poured earlier with milk and sugar. When I make a disgusted face, he narrows his eyes at me. I’m having a really difficult time not smiling like an idiot when there’s a gorgeous guy making me a cup of tea with no shirt on, hair all mussed. He catches me eyeing his happy trail with speculation and smirks.

“Sit up. I’m about to banish the word coffee from your vocabulary.”

I prop myself against the pillow and take the offered cup. “Never going to happen. When I die, I want my ashes sprinkled over a Starbucks.”

“Drink.”

With an eye roll, I take a sip. And holy shit, it’s so good. He’s made it strong enough that I get a caffeine kick, but it’s smooth and…delicious. “Wow.”

He nods once, then begins crawling toward me on the bed, looking like a big, hungry jungle cat. “Now what was my second error in judgment?”

It takes me a moment to catch up. “You, uh…said you were going to make slow, passionate love to me.” My breath hitches when he takes the cup of tea from my hand and sets it on the bedside table, never once taking his attention off me. “But we never do anything slow.”

“Oh no?” He tugs the sheet down to reveal my br**sts. “You should know better by now than to challenge me. Now I have to prove you wrong.”

I gasp when his tongue traces a circle around my nipple. “In that case, I bet you can’t do that again.”

His laughter puffs out over my damp skin. “You’re a quick learner.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

True to his word, Brian comes to the Claymore for dinner the following night. He is shaved and wearing a navy-blue button-down shirt, of which he tugs at the collar every other minute. Faith, who lit up like a Christmas tree when he walked in, has disappeared into the bathroom several times to change her hairstyle. Ponytail, messy bun, ponytail. While Shane finishes his shift behind the bar, Kitty bustles through the dining room, placing a vase with fresh-cut flowers on the table where Brian sits waiting, ripping up cocktail napkins. If he didn’t flush straight to the tips of his hair every time Faith walks past, I would think he was here against his will. But it’s obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes that he would wade through hot lava for her.

I suspect Shane sees it, too, from the resigned half smile he sends me when Brian plants a kiss on Faith’s forehead. I’m sitting at the bar drinking a Shirley Temple, talking to Orla while she waits to take over for Shane. He and I haven’t touched since this morning and there’s an invisible tug between us now, drawing us together. From the way he’s staring at me, I don’t think I’m the only one that feels it. He passes by to grab a bottle of beer for a customer and lets his fingers trail over my knuckles. Just that simple touch calms and excites me all at once. I know it’s not a good thing. I know I shouldn’t continue to feed my addiction for Shane, but there is a voice in my head that keeps whispering, tomorrow, you’ll start distancing yourself tomorrow…