“Harder,” she asked in a whimper. She couldn’t believe it was her! She’d never cried out for what she wanted before! “Faster!”

And he laughed deep in his throat. “Almost time,” he said, slowly and deeply invading, one long stroke at a time, torturing her.

She moaned and rose against him. Her knees bent, her heels dug into the bed, she whimpered and moaned again and again. A cry came from her, and he must have known that her orgasm was on him; his fingers found her most erogenous spot, his lips bruised hers in a hard, possessive kiss, and he pounded himself into her. Deeper and faster. And she broke apart, exploding all over him. He growled low and with appreciation. And then he said it. “God…Leslie…” It went on forever, the pleasure, the whimpering and growling, and she wasn’t quite done when he suddenly let go of her mouth, moved his lips to her nipple, and he grabbed her h*ps to plunge himself deep inside of her, holding her still but for his powerful throbbing. He groaned in ecstasy. She wasn’t sure where her orgasm ended and his began, and it was beyond anything she’d ever experienced before. Then he grabbed her chin in one big calloused hand, tilted her mouth toward his and took her mouth with almost the same force.

She thought it was a wonder she didn’t faint.

Seven

She felt herself smiling and yet on the verge of tears. He held the bulk of his weight off her, his eyes closed. Then his features slowly relaxed, and he kissed her several times, on the lips, the cheeks, the neck, chin, forehead. She reached up to his thick eyebrows with her fingertips and smoothed them, and he opened his eyes.

He took a deep breath. “That was the most amazing…”

“Oh, my God,” she said. “I had sex on the first date!”

“You and I had very good sex on the first date,” he said with a laugh. Then he frowned again and wiped a thumb along her temple. “Hey, forget what your mother said. It’s not a bad thing! We’ve been over this—it wasn’t really a first date! Are you crying?”

“Sorry… I might be a little emotional or something....”

“Leslie, was I rough? Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head. “You were wonderful. I think I might be a little crazy,” she said. “I can’t believe I was worried. I was so worried....” She gave a little hiccup of emotion.

“Because it was so long since the last time?” he asked.

“More than that,” she said. “Oh, Conner, you just can’t imagine the kinds of things I’ve believed about myself. That I wasn’t much of a lover, for one thing…”

“You can’t be serious. You put me on another planet....”

She laughed through a tear. “I’m just overthinking things again.” She put the palm of her hand against his cheek.

“Tell me,” he insisted.

“I’ve been told I…” She took a breath. “That I could be more interesting.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he said. “Whoever said that probably needed practice.”

“I’ve always wondered…you know…if that was one of the reasons…”

“That he strayed? That he left?” he asked.

She gave a weak little nod.

He laughed in spite of himself. “You’re wonderful, Leslie, you can trust me on this. You make love like a goddess. An angel. A very wild, wonderful angel.” He laughed again. “Jesus, what a mean way to undermine a woman’s confidence. From what I could tell, we worked together just great. Hmm?”

She let out a shaky breath. It was one of the most exciting, intense moments she’d ever had with a man, but she’d hold on to that information a little while. “Are you uncomfortable? Holding yourself up like this?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to move. Ever.”

“Me, either. I think it’s the mustache that makes the difference.”

“Oh, we haven’t even put the mustache to work yet.” She shivered, and he laughed, a low rumbling. She put her arms around his neck to hold him and just closed her eyes, comfortable and relaxed like never before. “Do you need to fall asleep?” he asked.

“Nope. Not tired.”

“Good. I’m not tired, either,” he said. “I’d like to check and see if it can get better than perfect....”

Her eyes opened in surprise. “Really?”

“Oh, really,” he said. And then he clutched her close and rolled with her until they were on their sides, still locked together.

In the early morning, Conner pulled Leslie close and nuzzled her, kissing the back of her neck. She mewled and snuggled closer, and he splayed a big hand over her belly. He wanted her again, but he didn’t want to wear her out. They’d made love three times in the night, and while it seemed she slept, curled up against him, he didn’t sleep much. Instead, his mind was working.

She was perfect. Sweet, funny, passionate, smart. He couldn’t imagine what more a man could want. She should want a lot more than him, that was his next thought. And he was a little angry, too. He hoped it hadn’t shown, but the very idea that a man would tell her she wasn’t enough, it roared inside him with a carefully held fury. He knew who that would have been. She hadn’t been with many men. It would have been the cheating ex, the bastard. It made Conner want to mess up his face because it was becoming clearer by the hour just how much that ass**le had hurt her. And hurt her. And hurt her.

People hadn’t acknowledged her hurt; they’d wanted her to move on. People did that because they get tired of hearing about it. No one ever knew what to say or how to help. He’d gotten a lot of sympathy after Samantha, but then they’d divorced, she’d gone into a treatment facility in another state, and in the mind of his few supporters, it had been time for him to let go before he made them any more uncomfortable.

He and Leslie shared another trait—he, too, wondered how badly he’d been lacking that his wife had needed others, so many others. He hadn’t revealed that to anyone and probably never would, but it made a man wonder. He would have given her anything she wanted, everything she wanted.

But no more. Now he was all for getting past it and hoped Leslie felt the same about her situation.

He was holding in his arms one of the best reasons to move on he’d rubbed up against in a couple of years. And it surprised him that he had absolutely no doubts about her. He wasn’t the least bit afraid that he’d come home someday and find her bouncing up and down on the cable guy. In fact, Leslie was so different that he instantly knew if he’d met her first, his entire life would have been different.

In fact, he wanted her like he’d never wanted a woman, including his wife. But he’d be very good to her, and when the time came, he’d tell her the truth about his dilemma and leave because he valued his life. And the lives of his sister and nephews.

She turned in his arms, facing him, burrowing her face into his neck.

“I woke you,” he said. “I didn’t mean to, but I have to get up.”

She made a protesting noise and snuggled closer.

“I have to drive to my cabin, shower and change. It’s Monday morning.” He pushed her curls away from her eyes. “Maybe you should call in....”

She giggled a little. “Call in what? Orgasmed to death?”

“You did say you were dying at least once,” he reminded her.

“We’re putting framers on the new construction today. I have to go.” She lifted her head. “When will I see you now that we’re not working on the same site?”

“When do you want to see me?”

“Will I scare you off if I say soon?”

“I don’t scare easy. Want me to sleep with you tonight?” he asked, running a hand down her spine.

She nodded. “I’ll make us dinner. I’ll even buy a six-pack to keep in my refrigerator.”

“What if you make me too comfortable?” he asked. “Could be as bad as feeding a stray cat.”

“If you’re worried about getting too involved…”

He shook his head. “I don’t think we can get too involved—we’re both in this weird place, trying to overcome having been in even weirder places. But I’m not worried about it. When I first saw you, I knew you were special.”

“You thought I was involved with a married man!”

“I’m jaded. Cynical sometimes. I apologized for that, didn’t I?”

“Yes, quite nicely, I think. So…? Dinner?”

“Yes, tonight. I have to get up now.”

She slid a leg over his hip, wiggling closer. “It doesn’t feel like you want to leave me yet.”

He smiled and gave her a kiss. “I didn’t dare ask. Now lie back and let me make you really late for work....”

The next night, very unlike the way a typical man thinks, Conner was relieved that they made love only once. Superbly, but once. He had serious reasons to be suspicious of a woman who would take it to the obsessive level.

And a few nights later, because she had mentioned she liked it, he found himself stopping in Fortuna for Thai takeout to bring for dinner to her house. It was Conner’s intention to have a serious talk with Leslie over dinner—

But he was barely in the door before that plan changed. She was standing in the doorway wearing a pair of snug jeans, a blue chambray shirt opened almost to her waist with a little white tank under it. He caught that scent—soap and flowers. Her hair was all those dark blond, streaky curls that made her look so cute, and her cheeks were flushed, which made her look already ravished, and he said, “Oh, my Jesus…”

“What?” she asked.

“God, you turn me on. Just seeing you.”

“Is that the same as hello?” she asked with a smile.

“I don’t know. How fast can you get naked?”

“Conner,” she said and laughed. “Wanna tell me what’s in the bag?”

“Thai. It’s for dessert....”

“And the main course?”

“I’m thinking mustache rides.”

“I guess that means you missed me,” she said. And she took the bag off his hands, and no sooner had she deposited it in the kitchen, than she headed straight for her bedroom. He caught her there, spun her around and fell with her on the bed, covering her mouth in a searing kiss.

It was an hour before they could get to the Thai takeout, and when they finally did, they sat on her sofa. He had pulled on his jeans and T-shirt, and she wore a robe. She put the cartons on a tray between them, and they ate directly out of them—she using chopsticks while he had to have a fork.

“I can teach you to use chopsticks,” she offered.

“Why would I do that? Nah. But I wanted us to talk.”

“The talk?” she asked, digging into the Nam Sod—minced chicken with ginger, peanut and onions. “About expectations and stuff?”

His eyebrows lifted curiously. “You want to give me the talk?”

“I know how men think. You think that if I’ve slept with you, I’ll expect you to marry me. And you want to be sure I don’t.”

He tilted his head and thought about this. She was damn close. “Well, not exactly. Being with you is good—but I’m afraid I’m going to let you down. I have serious baggage. Things to overcome, work through, you know.”

“I know.”

“I should tell you about my ex-wife....”

“Only if you feel like it. I don’t think she has anything to do with me. With us.”

“Well, she might. You’re trying to get over a divorce after what you thought was a good eight-year marriage. My marriage lasted a year. I only knew Samantha for six months before we got married. And she cheated, too, but with something like a hundred guys....”