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  He would do what she wanted him to do, because she asked.

  And that had been enough to nearly send her to her knees, which had reminded her swiftly of how easily Jesse had gone to his, and after that, there was nothing left inside her but the flames of desire consuming her. Then he’d actually gone out the front door, leaving behind the hard cider she had no urge to drink. Looking at the six-pack now, her stomach did another slow, rolling tumble.

  He wouldn’t be back, she thought as she turned the shower water to hot and stripped quickly out of her grungy pj’s. He’d be running as far and fast as he could in the opposite direction. But just in case, she was going to shave her legs. And armpits. And...well, all the other pertinent places.

  She got in the water before it was more than lukewarm, teeth chattering, rushing to be sure she’d be finished in case he did come back, which he wasn’t going to do, of course. But if he did, she thought as she ran the razor over her legs and forced herself to slow down so she didn’t cut herself, she needed to be able to hear the door.

  In less than ten minutes she’d finished. Smoothed lotion over her damp, goose-bumpy skin. Blotted her face with powder, dabbed on some gloss, added a bit of mascara. Nothing obvious. She didn’t want him to know she’d made an effort. At the last minute, Colleen ran a damp brush through her hair, praying it wouldn’t frizz. Then she slipped into a pair of silky pajama bottoms meant for summer wear, but far more flattering than the ancient flannels she’d been wearing. She looked in the mirror.

  It would have to do.

  She was downstairs when the front doorbell rang. For an eternal second, Colleen considered not answering the door, but it was close to ten-thirty now, and it could only be Jesse. He’d come back. Her stomach and her heart both fought to climb into her throat, but she forced a neutral expression as she opened the door.

  His grin, though, that smile lit up his striking blue eyes and made everything about him shine. She couldn’t ignore it. She had to return it.

  “Hey.” He held up a paper bag emblazoned with the name of one of the local restaurants. “Soup.”

  Sudden and embarrassing tears stung the backs of her eyes before she forced them away. Her chin went up, her smile fading. “What kind?”

  “Chicken with dumplings.”

  Oh, shit. He did know her. She couldn’t fathom how she had become so knowable to him, this man who was essentially a stranger, but he’d chosen the one item on that restaurant’s menu that she’d ever ordered.

  “I got enough for two,” Jesse said. “I’m starving.”

  “Bring it back here.” Without looking to see if he followed, Colleen went into the kitchen. She tried to tell herself the shivering came from her bare feet on the chilly tiles, but the truth was, she couldn’t stop herself from shaking with fever heat at the thought of his mouth on hers, his hands all over her.

  She put out glass bowls and spoons for each of them. She stepped back from the table, watching him to see what he’d do. Jesse took the soup containers from the bag and emptied them into the bowls. Steam rose, curling lazily. He must’ve run here to keep them so warm, and more of her own heat rose inside her.

  “Hungry?” Jesse gave her another of those grins.

  “Yes,” Colleen said. “But not for soup.”

  The electric arc of sexual tension snapped between them. In the next moment he’d crossed to her. Backed her up against the counter. Kissing, kissing, oh, damn, it felt so good to have his tongue in her mouth. His hand between her legs, fingers stroking just right through the silky fabric of her bottoms. Then he bent to her neck, scraping his teeth along her flesh, and she wanted to leap out of her skin from the pleasure of it.

  “Take off my shirt.” The words rasped out of her. “Get your mouth on me.”

  Jesse moaned softly and tugged her slim-fit, long-sleeved T-shirt over her head. Her nipples pebbled at once from the cold air and anticipation, but in the next moment the heated slickness of his mouth closed over first one and then the other, and she was anything but chilly. Her fingers sunk deep into the dark thickness of his hair, holding him close. He sucked gently, then a little harder. His hand moved against her, and his fingers moved up to dip inside the waistband.

  Colleen stopped him, pulling his hair until he looked up at her. “No.”

  His glazed gaze cleared a little. He licked his lips. “No?”

  “I want you to go upstairs and get undressed for me. I want you to...” Her breath caught. She faltered, stumbling, but at the sight of his expression, Colleen went calm. Steady. And oh, fuck, so turned on she thought she might not be able to make it up the stairs herself. “I want you to get on your knees, and I want that pretty cock so hard for me that it bounces on your belly when I come into the room. Do you want that, Jesse?”

  He nodded.

  “Answer me.” She made the words hard, but not harsh.

  “Yes, ma’am. I want to get on my knees for you.”

  Him calling her ma’am should’ve made her laugh. It should’ve made him sound like he was reading dialogue from a bad porn movie. But looking at him, all Colleen could think about was how easily he did it. How willingly.

  “Go,” she said.

  He went. He knew where her bedroom was, of course. They’d spent enough time in it that last snowy weekend. She waited for the sound of his footsteps on the floorboards overhead, which was less familiar to her. When you lived alone, you didn’t often hear the sound of your own floors creaking from below.

  When she’d judged he’d had enough time to do as she’d requested, Colleen climbed the stairs. Her bedroom was at the far end. It had once been two small rooms, but the former owner had knocked down the wall between them to create a master suite. Jesse had left the door half-closed, and she hesitated before pushing it open. Not because she was afraid he wouldn’t have done what she wanted him to do, but because seeing him on his knees, naked and waiting for her...the thought of it made it hard to breathe. Seeing it for real was going to be intense.

  And oh, it was.

  He’d done what she told him, all right. Stripped down to that tawny, naked flesh. On his knees next to the armchair she’d put catty corner by the window with a reading lamp. His arms were at his sides when she came through the door, but at once he put them behind his back. Back straight, shoulders squared. Head up. Cock hard.

  She wanted to touch him and taste him, but first, Colleen wanted to look at him. She circled him, one hand lightly touching his hair. His shoulders. His chest. She traced the line of his collarbones and delighted in the way his cock did, indeed, bounce to tap his belly. When she dug her fingers into his hair and tipped his head back, he closed his eyes. Mouth open.

  She kissed him, long and lingering, until they were both breathless. She reached to stroke him, remembering every inch as though it hadn’t been two long and stupid weeks since she’d touched him this way. A slick, clear bead of pre-come slipped out of him, and she used her fingers to smooth it over the head of his cock.

  Jesse groaned. “Oh...fuck. That feels good.”

  “I want you to feel good,” she whispered. “I want you to come for me so hard. Are you going to come for me, Jesse?”

  He swallowed and murmured, “Yes. Please.”

  She stroked him again. Up and down, fingers circling. His prick leaped in her hand, throbbing, and she gripped him at the base to keep him still. He was breathing hard, the skin of his cock going that lovely, delicious shade of aroused red. He opened his eyes to stare into hers, and she stroked him slowly, letting his slickness coat her hand. When he needed more, she held out her palm to him.

  “Spit.”

  He did. It might have been disgusting, but both of them shuddered at the pool of clear fluid on her skin. When she reached to stroke him again, slippery now, he muttered what sounded like a plea.

  “What’s that?” she asked into his ear, her lips moving on his skin.

  “Feels good,” he said. “I’m close.”

  Colleen slowed her s