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  “It will help, right?” she asked. “If we appease this…this heat now? Then maybe we won’t implode on our mission, when we’re locked in space together for ten long days.”

  He didn’t know how to tell her that he was beginning to suspect they’d always be this desperate for each other.

  Always.

  That word was a doozy. It went along with others, like forever.

  And love.

  Oh God. He needed to sit down.

  “Mike?” Corrine nervously licked her lips in an innocent, artless way that went straight to his gut. And then his heart. And suddenly he felt strong, so very, very strong.

  “Is this crazy?” she whispered, covering her face. “What are we doing?”

  “What we were born to do.” He took her hands and pinned them behind her, which left her body thrust against his. His voice was far thicker than it had been. “Let’s make love.”

  “And get it out of our system.”

  “Hmm,” he murmured noncommittally.

  Corrine was beginning to wonder if that was even possible, but she couldn’t think effectively with her attention so drawn to his wonderful, firm, masculine mouth. “We really shouldn’t. You know that.”

  He drew her closer, but didn’t kiss her, just held her until her entire body was throbbing with need.

  “Love that,” he murmured. “The connection. Can you feel it?”

  “What is it, exactly?” she asked, needing to know. But instead of answering, he unbuttoned her blouse, unhooked her bra, pulling the material away from her body. Then he just looked at her for a long, long moment before slowly shaking his head in wonder. Touching a nipple with his finger, he watched intently as it puckered and darkened for him. “So pretty.”

  Silly, really, how just a few words from him could make her lose her head. “Here, Mike?”

  He smiled against her throat. “Oh yeah, here. And everywhere.”

  “What if someone comes?”

  “Everyone is gone.”

  Turning, she swept everything on her desk to the floor with one swipe, watching as the piles of paper hit with a thunk. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

  Laughing, Mike helped her up, then stepped between her thighs. He undid her slacks and slipped his hands inside her panties, holding her bottom, pulling her close to a most impressive erection.

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her face into his neck and breathed deeply of the masculine scent that had haunted her for months. With his big, warm hands he squeezed her bottom, then cupped her breasts, plumping them up, dipping his mouth down to taste, using his tongue and then his teeth until her hips jerked in reaction. “Mike.”

  “I know.”

  “Hurry.”

  “Take everything off, then,” he said in a rough whisper, and lent his own hands to the cause. In two seconds flat they were both stripped. Corrine had barely straightened up before Mike slipped his hands between her thighs, opening them wide. “Mmm, you’re wet.”

  Yes. Wet and hot, and she’d made his fingers that way, too, the fingers that were softly stroking, over and over again, until she was arching up into him, helplessly thrusting against that hand. “Mike!”

  “Tell me.”

  “Don’t stop.” To make sure he wouldn’t, that he couldn’t, she closed her legs around him and that hand, shamelessly rubbing and writhing, desperate for more, for the touch that would send her reeling. “I need to—”

  “Then do it,” he urged, leaning down and drawing one nipple into his mouth, sucking it as he slid a finger inside her.

  She would have fallen backward if he hadn’t brought one hand to her waist to support her. Now that finger withdrew slowly—so slowly she thought she’d scream—only to dance over and over her with infinite, thorough patience. At every pass she cried out his name.

  “Come for me,” he coaxed, his mouth full of breast, his fingers diving back into her. “Come for me, baby.”

  And she did. She exploded. Imploded. Burst out of herself. All of that and more, and when she could hear again, see again, she realized she had him in a death grip and was still chanting his name.

  Mike was breathing every bit as harshly as she. Lifting his head, he looked at her, his eyes hot and dark, so very dark.

  Cupping his face, she kissed him. “We’re not done.”

  He smiled and sighed reverently, pulling a little packet out of his wallet.

  Boldly she took the condom and put it on, not as easy a feat as she’d have imagined. By the time she was done, he was trembling and she couldn’t get him inside her fast enough.

  “No,” he said when she tried to pull him onto the desk with her. “It won’t hold us.”

  The desk was old and rickety, and making loud, creaking, protesting noises, but with Mike stroking her halfway back to bliss, she couldn’t think. He craned his neck and looked toward the shelving unit, making her laugh breathlessly. “Not the shelves.”

  Scooping her up, he started toward them anyway, and she wasn’t so far gone that she couldn’t imagine them collapsing to the floor in a loud heap that would bring the custodian running. “Mike, no.”

  He turned abruptly, and before she could say another word, he had her against the office door. She’d barely spread her thighs when he buried himself deeply inside her. At the feel of him filling her beyond full, her eyes fluttered closed, her heart raged. Her senses soared. “Yes.”

  Another powerful stroke pounded both her and the door, and she cried out again, completely lost, as always with him. She might have been terrified, even furious, at his mastery over her, but if his hoarse groan and quivering limbs were any indication, he was just as lost as she.

  And then he lifted his head, his eyes dark with passion, need and a hunger so fierce it took her breath. Holding her gaze captive within his, he started to take them both right over the edge. “Look at me,” he all but growled.

  “I am. Mike, I am.”

  “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop seeing me, even after—” He broke off when she tossed her head back and arched against him, already shuddering with another orgasm.

  He followed.

  They were still damp and trembling, and still quite breathless, when the knock came at the door.

  “Corrine?” It was Stephen, and he sounded worried.

  And wary.

  “We heard some banging,” he called out. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay. Corrine?”

  Horrified, stunned and still wrapped around Mike as if she’d been trying to climb his body—which of course she had!—she went utterly still, staring at Mike. Mike, who’d promised her they were alone.

  “Corrine? Is that Mike in there with you?”

  “I’ll be right with you,” she somehow managed to reply.

  Which was worse? Being caught in this compromising position, with Mike still buried deep inside her, or the look on his face? A look that didn’t hold surprise so much as acceptance. “How did this happen?” she whispered. “My God, Mike, you said they were gone. You didn’t do this on purpose, did you?”

  He didn’t so much as blink, but let go of her thighs so she could slide down his still hard, still hot body.

  She stood there, naked and shaking, as fury mounted, along with humiliation. “You did.”

  Turning away, he reached for his pants, the long, leanly muscled lines of his sleek back drawing her even now. “Is that what you think?” he asked. “That I would? That I could?”

  Where were her panties? Oh perfect, they were hanging off the filing cabinet. “I don’t know. Why don’t you just answer the question?”

  He left his pants unfastened as he turned to face her. “Because you should know better.”

  11

  HE FELT GUILTY, no doubt. But not for the reason Corrine seemed to think he should. No matter what she believed, he had not made love to her at work so that they would get caught.

  He’d done it because he could no more stop breathing than not take her. That they’d b