“Bo.” She fastened her mouth on his throat, not exactly gentle, and in return he tugged on her dripping hair until her head fell back enough that he could kiss her again; hard, wet, deep, while his fingers slid between her legs and dipped into her creamy heat, making him stagger, groan, then stagger again, until he fell back with her onto the couch.

Thank God for Target, he thought dimly, sinking into the soft, giving cushions with this unbelievably hot, wet, naked gorgeous woman straddling him.

She was trying to strip him, making little frustrated sounds as she tore at his clothes. Lending his own hands to the cause, together they pulled his shirt over his head. She let out a little hum of pleasure at the sight of his bared torso, then leaned forward and kissed a pec. “I can’t even remember why you’re here,” she whispered, and for a moment, the words brought him out.

Because despite being more turned on than he’d been in a good long time, he remembered why he was here. When he told her, when he showed her what he’d brought, she was going to get that cold, distant look in her eyes and not want to see him. Not want to talk to him.

And certainly not want to-oh, God-lick him. He opened his mouth, honesty warring with lust, but then she tugged open his jeans and slipped her hands inside.

And just like that, lust won. He’d been touched plenty but for some reason, her hands felt different, her kisses felt different. Gliding his hands up the backs of her thighs, he urged her closer over him as he kissed her again, and again. His fingers still playing in their wet heaven, he dragged his mouth from hers, making his way down to a full curve of a breast. Her nipple was pebbled up tight, going even tighter when he sucked her against his tongue. Pulling back, he blew out a soft breath on the tip as he sank a finger deep inside her.

She cried out, the sound drenched in pleasure. Her head fell back, her hair falling over her shoulders and breasts, which were still wet from his mouth. She looked gorgeous, like a goddamned goddess, and he could only stare up at her, awed, as he added another finger, slowly grazing his thumb over her clit.

Another gasp, the sexiest sound he’d ever heard. “Bo.”

Had he ever heard his name uttered like that? Like in that moment he was her air, her sustenance, her very life?

He wanted to hear it some more. Lots more. Leaning forward, he put his mouth back on her breast, not losing the rhythm of his thumb on her center, urged on by her rocking hips and soft cries.

“Bo-”

“Come,” he said against her nipple. “I want you to.”

“I can’t-”

“Can.” He watched her intently, taking the cues from her pumping hips to see how hard to press, how fast to take her. With another surprised cry, her head fell back again, her throat a lovely arch, her eyes tightly closed.

Beautiful. She was so goddamned beautiful he could hardly stand it. Her hands came down to hold his in the right spot, as if desperate to make sure he finished her off now that she was so close, as if she was afraid he’d disappoint her. But he had no intention of disappointing her, and he carefully tended to her body, groaning at the sight of her straining against him.

And then, with a darkly erotic sound, she burst. She was still shuddering in pleasure, his fingers still deep inside her, when the doorknob on the front door wriggled.

They both froze.

Still breathing hard, dewy from her orgasm, Mel gripped Bo’s arms and yanked, and they both fell off the couch to the floor.

“What the hell-”

Before he could finish that thought, Mel slapped a hand over his mouth, holding him down with shocking strength for a completely naked woman who’d just exploded all over him.

“Shh,” she hissed, and pushed his head farther down and out of sight.

Which is how he found his mouth an inch from a still-erect nipple. He stared at the beautiful sight as the front door opened all the way.

“Mel?” called a female voice, a Southern female voice.

Char.

She was probably bringing dinner, because Char had more mothering genes in her little pinky than Bo had good sense.

“Honey,” she called out. “I brought a plate of chicken enchiladas. Al loved them, so I thought…Mel?”

Out of sight, on the floor in front of the couch, Bo turned his head and met Mel’s light brown eyes. In them was a promised retribution if he so much as breathed.

Nope, not going to breathe. Instead he opened his mouth and licked her nipple like she was his favorite flavor of lollipop.

She jerked.

The nipple hardened all the more.

And Bo smiled.

“Mel?” Char called. “Damn it, did you go for your run already?”

Mel shot Bo more daggers. Poisoned daggers, by the looks of them. They still lay tangled on the floor, Mel completely naked, him not so much. Given the heat blazing from the woman’s gaze, she’d figured out exactly how vulnerable her situation was. To make sure of it, he slid a finger back inside her.

A strangled sound escaped her. In fact, Bo could have sworn her eyes crossed with lust.

Above and behind them, Char let out a long-suffering sigh, set something down on the kitchen table, and exited.

The moment the front door shut, Mel catapulted into action, shoving Bo away, leaping up to her feet. Grabbing her robe, she shoved her arms into it. When she realized the robe was on inside out, she growled.

Bo laughed, and she rounded on him, pointing to the door. “Get out.”

“Oh, is the fun over?”

“Yes!”

He pointed to the big, fat file he’d brought, the elephant in the room. The thing was still perched on the edge of the couch, the sexual storm somehow having left it utterly untouched.

Mel stared at him, her hair beginning to dry in long, fiery waves around her face. He could tell by her expression she’d completely forgotten, and that she couldn’t quite believe it. “Just tell me.”

“I found old accounting records, and-”

“Found?”

“Okay, let’s say liberated.”

Her mouth went grim but she said nothing.

“I still haven’t located records of the Beechcraft, but this set of books was very interesting.”

“How so?”

“It’s clearly a second set of books for North Beach, and I’m betting it doesn’t match the first. Want to take that bet?”

Mel hugged her robe tighter to herself, as if she hadn’t just been butt-ass naked in his lap, panting his name as she came. “Lots of people keep two sets of books.”

“With huge deposits unaccredited to any source? Deposits that were probably never actually entered into the official set of North Beach’s books, or at least into the set the IRS saw? Deposits that add up to a staggering million dollars?”

“What?”

“All dated just before and during the years that my dad was involved with Sally. Which begs the question: if Sally is the one who got ripped off in all this, why did all of my father’s money vanish, and Sally’s bank account swell?”

She frowned, then turned her back to him.

“Oh, no you don’t.” He pulled her back around. “We’re talking about this.”

Her jaw hardened and so did her eyes. Beneath that robe she might be naked and still quivering, but on the outside she was the strong-headed, strong-willed woman she’d been from too young an age. “I’d like you to leave now.”

“You can’t ignore this, it’s not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere-”

“Yet.”

“What does that mean?”

She licked her lips. “You’re not going anywhere yet. But you are eventually. You’re going back to your life. While mine, and everyone else’s here, will never be the same again.”

Her quiet devastation staggered him. Before he could formulate a response, she dropped her forehead to his shoulder, and surprised, he pulled her in, hugging her close for one minute before she gathered herself and stepped away. “I’d like to go through the paperwork.”

“Of course.”

“By myself,” she said.

“Mel-”

“Please.”

God, the look in her eyes slayed him.

“Myself,” she repeated.

He pulled on his shirt, then moved close, running a finger over the dark smudges beneath her eyes. She seemed exhausted, and all he wanted to do was tuck her against him and take her to bed. But she’d never allow that now and he knew it. “We need to talk about this. Soon.”

She glanced over his shoulder, back toward the couch, where the file sat. Whatever she was feeling, she kept it to herself. “Good-bye, Bo.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good-bye,” she said again, and practically shut the door on him as she pushed him out into the night.

The next morning, Bo showed up early at the airport in hopes of catching Mel alone, but she appeared to be a no-show.

In fact, for the first time in the week since he’d been there, the coffee-donut gossip ritual at the café began without her.

Ritchie and Kellan couldn’t wait to tell everyone about their double date with twins. “They’re athletes,” Ritchie reported in awe. “Gymnasts.”

Al whistled. “Bet they’re flexible.”

“Oh yeah, we got wild, dude-” Kellan broke off at Char’s glare. His wicked smile faded. “I mean, it was tender and respectful. Very tender and respectful.”

“Enough.” Ernest gestured with his donut toward Danny. “I got a complaint. You need to stop using aerosol anything in maintenance. I found a dead araneae in there.”

“A what?” Danny asked.

“A spider! You’re killing them.”

Char sighed. “Okay, let’s talk about me. I’m cranking down the AC from 78 to 68 degrees, and I don’t care how much it costs, I’m too damn hot all the time!”

Al wisely refrained from saying a word, but he looked like he was thinking at least a few.

No one spoke of Mel’s absence.

Finally Bo had to ask. “Where’s your fearless leader?”