Without a word, he lifts me in his arms, spins me around into his apartment, and kicks the door shut.

Afraid to look at his face, I lean my forehead against his chest and squeeze my eyes closed. “I called Drake to ask some questions about broken bones. He showed up with his medical books and dinner. We’re good friends, Jake, but I’ve never felt anything more than that for him. I told him I wanted to be with you and he left. Nothing happened.”

He cups my face between his hands, and I look into eyes, as deep and blue as the ocean, as warm as the summer sand.

“You came to me. Nothing else matters.” He kisses me slowly, sweetly, maneuvering me until I hit the door. Then he deepens the kiss. Greedy, hard, and hungry, his tongue works past my lips to rasp over the inside of my mouth, each stroke sending tiny shock waves down to my core.

“Jake…I need to explain…”

“Shhhh, baby. You. Here. Tells me everything I need to know.” He trails butterfly kisses along my jaw and then up to the sensitive spot behind my ear. I tilt my head to give him better access and he growls his approval.

“I want you so much, it scares me,” I whisper. “I thought for a second at my office you didn’t want me, so I tried to push you away.”

“I want you too, baby. I f**king ache with wanting you. Been working out all evening trying to make that feeling go away, but all I keep thinking about is how soft and sexy you looked in my arms last night, and how lucky I am to have found a smart, sweet, attorney with a big heart, a whole lot of determination, and a bent for kinky sex.”

A warm, melty feeling pools in my belly. He’s been thinking about me. “I like this look.” I glide my hands over his chest, still damp from his workout, then follow the trail of soft curls to the waistband of his shorts. “You’re all pumped and sweaty, and you look like you want to pound on someone. But you have to rein it in sometimes. Talk instead of fight. Tonight…the way you reacted…it almost scared me away.”

A pained expression crosses his face. “That bastard sets me off like no one else. He knows we’re together. I’ve made sure of it. And yet he pulls a stunt like he did today. I just want to beat the crap out of him.”

“He’s my friend, Jake. I can’t stop seeing my friends because you don’t like them.” I run my finger along the inside edge of his fight shorts and tug him gently toward me. “But I should have thought about how it might look to you. Next time I plan on meeting up with him, I’ll invite you along.”

A low growl erupts from his throat. “Friendship is the last thing on his mind. Trust me on this one. I know.”

“So you’re still going to pound on him?”

Jake chuckles and covers my hand with his own, sliding my palm over the steel of his erection straining against his fight shorts. “I want to pound in someone—my girl. I wanna love her and make her feel so good. But first, I’m gonna spank her ass for making me think I lost her.”

“Oh God.” My heart skips a beat, then slams against my ribs.

Jake’s voice drops to a rough, husky growl. “Then I’ll keep you on edge until you’re dripping with arousal and begging me to let you come.”

I breathe out a soft “oh,” and he gives me a wicked grin.

“It’s gonna be a long night.”

He gives me no time to mull over the sweet sentiment or ponder whether his words mean he forgives me, because I am suddenly whisked away from the door and bent over his dining table, my cheek and br**sts pressed tight against the cool, polished wood surface.

“What happened to loving me and making me feel good?” I strain to check out Jake’s new place from my bent-over-the-table vantage point.

“You’re too f**king sexy. I’ll spank you first, then I’ll make it better.” He grunts his annoyance when I push myself up to my elbows and then slaps my ass. The sharp sting makes me gasp, and I am suddenly very grateful I am still wearing my clothes.

“Don’t move. Gotta get a box of condoms.” He crosses the room in front of me and heads toward the raised platform where his massive low-rise bed is situated. Big and comfy-looking. Much comfier than a table.

“A box? Not just one or even five?”

He looks back over his shoulder and his eyebrow lifts. “You walk around in your tight little suit, we need five. You make me think it’s over and then you appear at my door in the middle of the night with your eyes all big and soft, your heart open, and your hair looking like you just got out of bed, we need a box.”

“I see we’re not wasting any time with foreplay.” I rest my chin in my hands and mentally drool as he bends over the night table, giving me an unobstructed view of his ass outlined to perfection by the thin fabric of his fight shorts. “Your girl shows up at your door, you bend her over the table, take her hard and fast, maybe order a pizza, grab a beer, and watch some TV. I’ll bet it’s every man’s dream.”

The warning look he gives me, cold and calculating, sends a shiver down my spine. I always seem to take it that one step too far.

“Jeans, panties, and shirt off.”

I suck in a sharp breath and heat flushes my cheeks. What is it about his voice that makes everything inside me melt? Or maybe it isn’t just his voice, but his tone. Confident. Commanding. Unyielding.

When he disappears down the hallway beside the bed, I shrug off my clothes and quickly check out the vast open-plan space, at least five times as big as my old apartment, and dominated by floor-to-ceiling windows covering two walls. Cross-training and weight equipment take up a corner of the room along with a spread of mats and a giant punching bag. A sitting area in front of a sleek sandstone fireplace looks both masculine and comfortable with a big, gray, overstuffed couch and matching chair, curved glass tables, and blue accent pillows. His pristine kitchen, all black granite and stainless steel appliances, looks like it has never been used. And of course, beneath me, a delightfully cold, polished, hardwood table. Very Jake.