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  She tried to twist away but he held her still, kissing each thigh. “Chatting is nice, too.”

  No, she was done, thank you very much. “Forget it. I’m going to bed—”

  “Shh.”

  Oh, no he didn’t. He didn’t just…shush her! This was grounds for homicide, but then he leaned in and put his tongue on her again. He knew just the right pressure, the right rhythm, and suddenly, unbelievably, she was back on the very edge, trembling, panting for breath, when normally she’d be working so damn hard for an orgasm it wasn’t worth the effort. “Oh, my God.”

  The bastard let out a soft laugh while she sank her fingers into his hair and held on, thinking if he stopped, she was going to kill him.

  But he didn’t stop. In less than three minutes, he had her shaking and sobbing for breath. “Please,” she gasped, and then he slid a finger inside her.

  And another.

  She exploded, his name on her lips as she shuddered and completely, utterly lost herself in a collision of a thousand sensations.

  When she came back to herself, he’d stood up, was in fact holding her up as well. “You all right?” he murmured, kissing her jaw, her throat.

  Okay, maybe he wasn’t a complete bastard. And she wanted more, fast, now. “In me,” she said. “Now.”

  “Now works.” Scooping her up, he turned and tossed her to the couch, then followed her down. She tried to wrap her legs around him but her pants, still around her ankles, caught her. “Damn it—”

  “I’ve got it—”

  “Hurry—”

  “Yeah, I got that part.” Scooting down her body, he fumbled with her boots. “Christ, how many knots do you need?”

  She was pulling off his shirt, her eyes gobbling up his shoulders, his chest, those gorgeous six-pack abs she just wanted to sink her teeth into.

  He was still fighting with her first boot, and she slapped his hands aside to undo the laces herself, then his hands moved in again, yanking off the boot, tossing it over his shoulder while she kicked the denim off that leg. Not waiting for the other boot, she tugged at his jeans, her fingers entangling with his as together they shoved the pants to his thighs.

  “Oh,” she murmured in pleasure, holding him, stroking him.

  With a groan, he grabbed her hands and lifted them over her head, pressing his hips to hers. “Let me in, Mel.”

  Helpless to resist, she arched, wrapping her legs around his waist. Dipping down low, he rubbed his jaw to hers and smiled.

  God, his face. Gorgeous, yeah, but the way he looked at her…She opened herself up to him, glided her hands down his smooth, sleek back, urging him on. “Now, Bo…”

  “Wait. I want to—”

  Arching up, she tightened her legs around him, pulling him toward her so that he almost pushed into her. The sensation dragged a rough groan from him and a helpless cry for more from her.

  “Mel. God.” He pulled back a little, then slowly pushed back in, fully seating himself within her this time, her wet, sensitized flesh hugging him tight.

  She was going to come again, an unbelievable feat—

  “Wait,” he gasped, sounding strained. “Mel, wait—”

  No. No waiting.

  Her hands squeezed his squeezable butt as she tried to get him to move. Harder. Faster.

  “Hold on,” he begged. “We can’t—” His voice was hoarse, serrated as he pressed his pelvis to hers, the pleasure all over his face. He was, in fact quivering with it, but he didn’t move again. “I don’t have a condom.”

  That stopped her. She looked up, met his gaze. He held himself rigid above her. There was a line of sweat down one temple, his jaw clenched tight. His muscles stood out in sharp relief, quaking faintly. “Not in your wallet?” she whispered.

  He shook his head.

  “Not—”

  “Nowhere.”

  “How could you not—”

  His expression was close to pain, and frozen with intense concentration. “I didn’t expect—”

  “I’m going to cry,” she whispered. “I swear it.”

  “Mel—”

  The torture in his voice assured her that it was worse for him, far worse, as he hadn’t already gotten off like she had, not the other night, and not tonight.

  And in that moment, it changed for her. Somehow she went from frantic to warm and fuzzy, soft. He was breathing hard, shaking, and she knew what to do. “It’s okay,” she whispered, stroking her hands up his chest, feeling his hot, damp muscles jerk beneath her touch. “Let me.”

  “Let you what—”

  She shoved hard and he fell off the couch, but she fell with him, rolling so that he landed on his back, with her straddling him.

  “Jesus.”

  “Are you okay?” she asked breathlessly, running her hands up his arms. She’d dislodged him from inside her body but she could feel him, hot and silky hard pressing against her. “Did I hurt you?”

  “You’re killing me.” He groaned when she slid down his body and wrapped her fingers around his hot and silky length. “Killing me.”

  “Shh.” Smiling at how she’d finally shushed him, she leaned close, letting her hair fall and graze his belly, his thighs, eliciting another groan from deep in his throat, which turned into a strangled sound of immense pleasure when she took her tongue on a tour over him, from base to tip. “Mmm,” she said, and did it again.

  The sound that escaped him was half-laugh, half a desperate plea. “Mel.”

  She could hear his need, and lowered her head to fulfill it. It didn’t take long, he was hard and hot and primed to go, and watching him, listening to him surrender to his body’s need as he came, gave her far more pleasure than she could have imagined.

  Afterward, the only sound as they lay flat on their backs was their ragged breathing.

  “I don’t know whether to thank you or apologize,” he finally managed.

  Sitting up, she smiled. She felt him eye her as she began to straighten her clothes. She still had one boot on. Leaning in, he helped her with the knot, then he stood, staggering for balance before he righted his own clothes and zipped up his jeans. “Before you kick me out, we were going to talk.”

  Body still humming, she blinked. “Kick you out?”

  “You tend to do that.”

  “Oh. Yeah.”

  He sat heavily on the couch and looked at her. “I’ve got more information. I’m going to tell you now, if you can handle it.”

  “And if I can’t?”

  “I’m going to tell you anyway.”

  “Ah.” She nodded as her lingering pleasure faded away. “So the lease was, what, a peace offering? A way to loosen me up?”

  “Maybe a little of both.”

  “Nice.”

  “I never pretended to be nice, Mel.”

  No, but oddly enough, he was. Or at least he wasn’t quite as badass as he’d let her believe. “And what do you call what we just did?”

  “Fan-fucking-tastic, if you want the truth.” He pulled her down beside him. “How about a game of truth or dare without the dare? Truth: I came here to see Sally, but that’s never going to happen. Is it, Mel?”

  She looked into his eyes and felt the foundation of her world crack.

  “See, I’ve been researching Sally on the net,” he said. “Interesting thing. She’s vanished. And she vanished a long time ago.”

  “Well…” Mel winced. “Sort of.”

  He looked at her for a long moment, his eyes dark, reproachful. Hurt, damn it. “You let me think she was on a trip, that she’d be coming back.”

  “I never actually said a trip.”

  “Why don’t you actually say then?”

  She paused, but knew she had to tell him everything. “I don’t know where she is.”

  “So you’ve said. Now say more.”

  “I planned on telling you,” she said. “I told Dimi I was going to tell you.”

  “So tell already.”

  “She used to call in every month or