Her pupils dilated. Her nipples poked out, begging for attention. His dick strained against his jeans, and he savored the discomfort, knowing she was as aroused as he was, though they’d feasted on each other for hours last night.

Her voice came out husky. “Nothing wrong with a good, hard bang now and then. Gives you the energy you need quick. No long-drawn-out, complicated waiting.”

Oh, she was a bad girl. Her tongue slid over her lower lip in a deliberate teasing gesture. “You like your coffee quick and hard?” he murmured in warning.

“Oh, yeah.” She took a sip and gave a throaty, catlike moan. “And hot. Really, really hot.”

He almost came in his damn pants. She was gonna pay.

Dalton put his mug on the table. Then reached out, snagging hers, and slowly placed it next to his. He bet if he snuck his fingers under that robe and slipped them inside her tight pussy, she’d be soaking wet. Good, because he wasn’t going to last.

“Maybe I should give my woman the coffee she really wants.”

He paused, taking in the quick flare of wariness on her face, the hidden lust in her inky eyes.

He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her high. Pivoting on his bare heel, he slammed her against the wall, pinning her there while he worked his jeans down over his hips. She was panting hard, her thighs squeezed around his hips, her robe falling open to reveal her small, naked breasts.

“I’m on the pill,” she burst out.

His head jerked up, teeth gritted against the surging pull of sexual need pumping between them. “I’m clean. I get tested regularly.”

“I am, too.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

He needed no other words. In one quick movement, he slid her up higher against the wall, then slammed her down on his cock.

She screamed his name. He lowered his head, sucking on her hard nipples, encased in drenching heat that hugged him tight and sent him to heaven. Without the barrier of the condom, he relished the amazing feel of her surrounding him. She grabbed his shoulders, digging her nails hard into his flesh, and never easing his grip, he kept control of her body, forcing her to ride him.

Her head hit the back of the wall as he drove himself deeper, harder, licking and biting her nipples until she shattered around him and he felt her come all over him. His name echoed from her lips in a prayer, and he kept up the brutal pace, making her continue riding him until another mini orgasm clenched her muscles and he came hard inside her.

Shuddering, the scent of sandalwood and sex rising to his nostrils, he gentled his embrace, slowly letting her down inch by inch. He pulled her into his arms, stroking her back, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. God, why did he feel whole when he held her? Made love to her?

“Now, that’s the way I like my coffee,” she finally said.

He laughed, looking down into her beautiful face. “It’s a good thing I have a weakness for brats. What time do you have to go in today?”

“I need to prep and do a bunch of paperwork. Around nine. What about you?”

His phone beeped as if in answer. He grabbed it from the table and read the text. “Have to head to the office, then work on the deck. Listen, Morgan wants you to come to dinner tomorrow night. And so do I.”

She hesitated, her gaze jerking away. He pushed down the sliver of pain, sensing she didn’t want to be with his family. Usually he was the one dodging offers of parental dinners and sibling meet-ups. He didn’t like the uncertainty and hope twisting inside him. “I’m not sure I can make it.”

Dalton turned his back on her. Damn, it hurt. Maybe she just wanted him for sex. “I understand. I don’t want to push. I know you may not feel the same way I do, so—”

“Dalton, I want to go.” She grabbed his arm and made him face her. Misery etched the features on her face. “I just—I just need to talk to you about a few things. Important things.”

He sensed the breakup speech hovering in the air. For the very first time in his life, he gave in to panic. “No, you’re right, we should talk. I want to talk. But I have to get going, and I’d like to continue this later.”

She chewed on her lip, seemingly hesitant about his quick escape. “Okay. Tonight?”

“Yes, tonight. Will you think about coming to dinner, though? Morgan’s been worried about you since the break-in, and she considers you a friend.”

“Okay,” she said again. “I’ll come to dinner. But we’ll talk tonight?”

“Absolutely.” In record time, he threw on his shirt and shoes, took one last sip of coffee, and kissed her. “I’ll call you later.”

He headed out the door, running away from the shattering truth: the woman he was falling in love with just wasn’t in love with him.

Raven watched him flee out the front door and slumped into a kitchen chair.

What was she going to do?

He’d wrung orgasm after orgasm from her body last night. She’d cried his name in the dark hours, but it had become so much more than physical. Her heart sang in ecstasy, and a deep peace seeped into her blood when he held her. It was as if every dark road she’d explored, every journey she’d embarked on in an effort to erase the pain of her loss had finally led her to the answer she sought.

Dalton Pierce.

She sipped her coffee, still reeling from his confession. Diane Pierce didn’t seem like a selfish woman who had wanted to hurt her father. Unless Dalton was blind to the true characteristics of his mother. Would Raven be betraying her father’s memory by falling in love with Dalton Pierce?

Tears stung her eyes. She looked over at the covered paintings and envisioned her father sitting with his art brushes, looking at something she couldn’t see yet, a peaceful smile on his face. A conversation from long ago drifted in her memory like puffs of smoke, half-real, half-imaginary.

“Papa, I want to play.”

“Not yet, Bella. I’m working now.”

Frustrated at his lack of attention, she couldn’t understand the other world he seemed caught in, someplace over the rainbow where she wasn’t allowed to go. “But there’s nothing there. What are you staring at?”

He turned to her, his dark eyes full of a creative zeal and joy he always exuded when he was around his easel. She loved art and enjoyed painting with her father, but she never experienced the drive and consistent need to create. “Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith. Believe in things you may not see, but sense.”