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  “You’re so tight,” he muttered in her ear. “So wet.”

  “Told you I was ready,” she said between gasps of pleasure.

  He slammed into her, over and over again, groaning each time she lifted her hips to take him deeper. It was too fast for him, and yet it felt like everything was moving in slow motion. The way she dug her fingers into his buttocks and pulled him toward her, squeezing his cock with her tight wetness. The rising pleasure in his body, the impatient throb in his groin that forced him to move even faster.

  She exploded again, quivering, shuddering, making little mewling sounds that had his entire body burning with excitement.

  He continued plunging into her until finally he couldn’t take it anymore. He came a second later, kissing her harshly as his climax rocked into him with the force of a hurricane. Shards of pleasure ripped through him, hot, intense, insistent. Uncontrollable. He fought for air, wondering how it was possible that the little woman beneath him had managed to bring him to the most incredible release of his life.

  They lay there for a moment, breathing ragged, bodies slick, his cock still buried inside her.

  Hayden ran her hands along his sweat-soaked back, then murmured, “Not bad.”

  Even in his state of orgasmic numbness Brody managed a mock frown. “Not bad? That’s all you can say?”

  “Fine, it was tremendously good.”

  “That’s better.”

  With a small grin, she disentangled herself from his embrace and got to her feet. Her gaze ruefully drifted in the direction of the bedroom they’d never managed to reach. “Five more steps and we could’ve been on my big, comfortable bed.”

  He propped himself up on his elbows, the soft carpet itching the hell out of his back. “Don’t you worry, Hayden,” he said with a rakish glint in his eye. “The night is still young.”

  3

  “HOW MANY?” Darcy demanded the next day.

  Hayden moved her cell phone to her other ear and maneuvered her rental car through afternoon traffic. Chicago’s downtown core was surprisingly busy; tonight’s Warriors game had probably compelled more than a few people to leave work early. Hayden, on the other hand, didn’t have a choice in the matter. Whether she wanted to or not, she was about to spend the evening sitting next to her dad in the owner’s box, watching a sport she not only found dismally boring, but one she’d resented for years.

  God, she couldn’t even count how many games she’d been dragged to over the years. Hundreds? Thousands? Regardless of the final tally, she was no closer to liking hockey now, at twenty-six, than she had been at age six, when her father took her to her first game. To her, hockey meant constant uprooting. Traveling, moving, sitting behind the bench with a coloring book because her dad hadn’t felt right hiring a nanny.

  A shrink would probably tell her that she was projecting, taking out her frustration with her father on an innocent little sport, but she couldn’t help it. No matter how hard she’d tried over the years, she couldn’t bring herself to appreciate or enjoy the damn game.

  “I don’t kiss and tell,” she said into her cell, stopping at a red light. An El train whizzed overhead, momentarily making her deaf to anything but the thundering of the train as it tore down the tracks.

  “Like hell you don’t,” Darcy was saying when the noise died down. “How many, Hayden?”

  Suppressing a tiny smile, she finally caved in. “Five.”

  “Five!” Darcy went silent for a moment. Then she offered an awe-laced obscenity. “You’re telling me the hunk gave you five orgasms last night?”

  “He sure did.” The memory alone brought a spark of heat to her still-exhausted body. Muscles she hadn’t even known she had were still aching, thanks to the man who could definitely give the Energizer Bunny a run for its money.

  “I’m stunned. You realize that? I’m utterly stunned.”

  The light ahead turned green and Hayden drove through the intersection. A group of teenagers wearing blue and silver Warriors jerseys caught her attention, and she groaned at the sight of them. She was so not in the mood to watch a night of rowdy hockey with her father.

  “So how was the big goodbye and ‘thanks for the five O’s’?” Darcy asked.

  “Strange.” She made a left turn and drove down Lakeshore Drive toward the Lincoln Center, the brand-new arena recently built for the Warriors. “Before he left, he asked for my number.”

  “Did you give it to him?”

  “No.” She sighed. “But then he offered me his number, so I took it.”

  “It was supposed to be a one-night stand!”

  “Yeah…but…he looked so dismayed. I made it pretty clear that it was a one-night thing. You’d think he’d be thrilled about that. No strings, no expectations. But he was disappointed.”

  “You can’t see him again. What if things get serious? You’ll be going back to the West Coast in a couple months.”

  Darcy sounded surprisingly upset. Well, maybe it wasn’t that surprising, seeing as Darcy found the idea of falling in love more petrifying than the Ebola virus. The phobia had taken form a few years ago, after Darcy’s father broke up his marriage of twenty years by falling in love with another woman. Since then Darcy had convinced herself the same would happen to her. Hayden had tried to assure her friend that not all men left their wives, but her words always fell on deaf ears.

  “Nothing will get serious,” Hayden said with a laugh. “First of all, I probably won’t see Brody again. And second, I won’t allow myself to develop a relationship with any man until I figure out where things stand with Doug.”

  Darcy groaned. “Him? Why do you continue to keep him in the picture? Turn your break into a breakup, before he mentions the intimacy bridge and—”

  “Goodbye, Darce.”

  She hung up, not in the mood to hear Darcy make fun of Doug again. Fine, so he was conservative, and maybe his comparison of sex to a bridge was bizarre, but Doug was a decent man. And she wasn’t ready to write him off completely.

  Uh, you slept with another man, her conscience reminded.

  Her cheeks grew hot at the memory of sleeping with Brody. And somehow the words sleeping with Brody seemed unsuitable, as if they described a bland, mundane event like tea with a grandparent. What she and Brody had done last night was neither bland nor mundane. It had been crazy. Intense. Mind-numbingly wild and deliciously dirty. Hands down, the best sex of her life.

  Was she a complete fool for sending him away this morning?

  Probably.

  Fine, more like absolutely.

  But what else should she have done? She’d woken up to find Brody’s smoky-blue eyes admiring her and before she could even utter a good-morning he’d slipped his hand between her legs. Stroked, rubbed, and brought her to orgasm in less than a minute. As a result, she’d forgotten her name, her surroundings and the reason she’d brought him home in the first place.

  Fortunately, the amnesia had been temporary. Her memory had swiftly returned when she’d checked her cell phone messages and saw that both her father and Doug had called.

  Brody had made it clear he wanted to see her again, and sure, that would be nice…okay, it would be freaking incredible. But sex wasn’t going to solve her problems. Her issues with Doug would still be there, lurking in the wings like a jealous understudy, as would the stress of her father’s recent struggles. And if Brody wanted more than sex, if he wanted a relationship (as unlikely as that was) what would she do then? Throw a third complication into her already complicated personal life?

  No, ending it before it began was the logical solution. Best to leave it as a one-night stand.

  She reached the arena ten minutes later and parked in the area reserved for VIPs, right next to her father’s shiny red Mercedes convertible. She knew it was her dad’s, because of the license plate reading “TM-OWNR.” Real subtle, Dad.

  Why had she even bothered coming home? When her father had asked if she could take some time off to be with him during this whole di