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  She let out one last shaky breath and lay there quietly, unable to talk. Hell, she could hardly think. Had they really just completely taken each other apart?

  “Pretty much,” he said in a rough voice, making her realize that she’d spoken out loud.

  Oh boy.

  He had one hand tangled in her hair and the other low on her bare ass holding her snugged up against him. They were both overheated and damp with sweat and yet she couldn’t muster up anything but bliss.

  His big palm slid off her butt and down the back of her leg. “You okay?”

  Was she? She took quick stock. They were on her floor, which she couldn’t remember if she’d vacuumed this week. Still, she’d never been more comfortable—or sated—in her entire life. She didn’t even try to move because she was pretty sure she couldn’t move. Her muscles seemed to have completely shorted out. All she could do was lie there with her face pressed into the crook of his neck, but she did manage a nod, too relaxed to get defensive about the question. Somehow he still smelled delicious, and utterly without thought, she rubbed her lips over his skin in a soft kiss before lightly licking him.

  Yep. He tasted as good as he smelled.

  “Did you just lick me like a lollipop?” he asked, voice low and lazy and laced with humor.

  Instead of answering, she sank her teeth into him.

  Hissing in a breath, he rolled her beneath him, slid a hand into her hair and tugged lightly to bare her neck. Then he returned the favor, lowering his head to take a nibble of her throat, the curve of her shoulder . . .

  And when he continued his way down her body, alternating teasing and nibbling, she arched into him. “Again?” she murmured, her fingers tightening in his hair.

  “Oh yeah, again.” But then he surprised her by lifting her into his arms and getting to his feet in one easy, athletic movement. “This time,” he said, “we make it to your bed. Where’s the closest light?”

  The question was a bucket of ice water over the top of her head. “Why?” she managed to ask.

  “I want to see you.”

  Yeah. Not happening. She squirmed out of his arms and blindly searched for her clothes. When she touched cotton, she grabbed it and pulled it over her head.

  It fell to her thighs. It was Lucas’s T-shirt.

  “Molly?”

  Dammit. She stepped back from his outstretched arms. “Don’t move, you’ll trip over something and hurt yourself.” She backed to the wall and hit the switch, blinking like an owl in the sudden light as her eyes tried to adjust.

  Lucas stood in the center of the living room, gloriously, unabashedly butt-ass naked, looking already perfectly adjusted to the light—and also perfectly at home. As he should, since he was incredibly built.

  But it was the look on his face that nearly stopped her heart. Easy affection. Light concern.

  He liked her.

  And she liked him. Way too much. She was feeling so much more than she thought she could, and that was terrifying. It also didn’t make any sense to her. She’d always needed to feel comfortable and cozy and safe to fall in love.

  She didn’t feel comfortable or cozy.

  As for safe . . . she wasn’t talking about her body. Her body felt safe with Lucas. In his hands, her body was putty.

  But her brain . . . her brain didn’t see this working out, and therefore she wasn’t safe.

  “I like the look,” he said of the sight of her in his shirt. He stepped toward her. “But there’s a look I’d like even better—”

  Again she backed away from his reach and he stopped. Cocked his head. “Do we have a problem?” he asked.

  “We don’t have a problem,” she said and then sighed. “I have a problem.”

  “And that is . . . ?”

  She looked everywhere but right at him. The ceiling. The floor. The couch that they’d just done the deed on . . . Man. She was never going to look at that couch in quite the same way again—

  “Molly.”

  She scrunched her eyes closed and then jumped when she heard her phone vibrating. She pounced on her phone, grateful for the interruption.

  It was her dad.

  “Sharon didn’t show,” he said.

  Sharon was his part-time home care nurse. She showed up two afternoons a week and stayed through dinner, which she either cooked for him or brought him. Tonight had been Sharon’s night and Molly looked at the time. Nearly midnight. He’d been alone way too long. “I’ll bring you dinner,” she said.

  “Did I wake you?”

  She resisted looking over at Lucas. “No.”

  “You sure?” her dad asked. “You sound breathless. Everything okay?”

  That depended on what part of her they were talking about. Her body, specifically certain parts of it, were more than okay. It’d just sung the “Hallelujah Chorus” and wasn’t opposed to another round. But her brain . . . her brain wasn’t sure if she was okay. Or if she’d ever be okay again. “I’m fine, Dad. What do you want to eat?”

  “A Big Mac.”

  “You can’t have those anymore. Your doctor says your cholesterol is still too high.”

  “You’re both fun suckers.”

  Yep. That was her mission in life. To be a fun sucker. “I’ll be there in thirty.” She disconnected and turned to Lucas. “I’ve got to go.” She rifled through her backpack for the pants she’d taken off at the village in order to change into her elf costume.

  “Commando,” Lucas murmured in an approving voice as she yanked up the pants without searching for her undies.

  She looked over at him and he smiled at her. “That alone is going to give me good dreams for the foreseeable future.”

  Ditto for her with nothing more than that sex-roughened voice of his. She grabbed a boot and hopped into it, toppling over. He winced for her and took a step toward her, but she gestured him away. “I’m fine!” Staying seated on the ground for the second boot, she got to her feet and blew the hair from her sweaty face. She turned in a circle and found the jacket he’d put on her shoulders earlier, which she put on over his T-shirt. She grabbed her purse and turned to the door.

  “Molly.”

  “Lock up when you go,” she said and, without looking back, ran off into the night like the chicken she was.

  Chapter 14

  #ElfingAround

  Back at the Pacific Pier Building twenty minutes later, Lucas walked through the cobblestone courtyard, freezing his ass off, every exhale making a little white cloud in front of his face. Old Man Eddie looked up from where he was warming his hands over the fire pit and stilled. “You get mugged?”

  Lucas, no shirt, no jacket, both thanks to Molly, shook his head. He didn’t speak because his tongue was cold and his nipples were about to fall off.

  Eddie’s frown turned into a slow smile. “Nice, man.”

  Avoiding the pub and the certain ridicule of his friends, Lucas strode past the fountain, purposely not looking at it, afraid he might turn into a sappy romantic and make a wish.

  The tattoo parlor was open late. Sadie was in there, leaning over a woman, working on her shoulder. She looked up at Lucas, the small smile on her lips going a bit bigger when she took him in.

  With a sigh, he took the stairs and let himself into his quiet, dark apartment, stripping on the way to a very hot shower to see if he could save his extremities. Afterwards, he stretched out on his bed, tucking his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling to contemplate his current problems.

  One, he’d let himself crumble his own walls.

  Two, Molly had gotten inside those crumbled walls and made herself right at home.

  Three, and this was the biggee, she’d run off on him tonight like her ass was on fire.

  And he still wanted her. What was that? She should be out of his system now, but if anything she’d only wormed in even deeper. He didn’t know if it was the way she’d held onto him, her fingers digging in as if she didn’t quite trust him not to pull away too soon. Or maybe it wa