So there I was, in my car on the road that led to Chace’s house. A road I’d only been on a few times in my life because there was no reason to go down it since it led to a dead end at the foot of the mountain and had nothing but a bunch of ranches on it. Those times I’d been on it were while driving around with kids in high school for no other reason than to pass time and listen to music loudly on the stereo.

I’d changed purses because I now had clean panties, my toothbrush and I’d added face wash, moisturizer, deodorant and one of my sexy new nighties so I needed a bigger one. I thought it best to be prepared. If I was spending the night, I didn’t want to sleep in makeup. Slept-in makeup looked awful in the morning.

I also had my sexy undies on and, just in case, had been wearing nothing but those every time I saw Chace which meant every day since I’d bought them. I’d changed out of my work skirt and into jeans, brushed my hair and done the run through a spritz of perfume routine. I was chewing on a piece of bubblemint because Chace told me in a growl during a make out session he loved the way I tasted. So if bubblemint was an addiction before, suffice it to say it was an obsession now.

And I was nervous as all fraking heck.

His house came in sight and I knew it was his because he told me it was the only one surrounded by a white picket fence. He also had the porch light on and there were some bright floodlights at the side of the house that were lighting up the lane and the drive.

I grabbed the wrapper, spit my gum in it, balled it up, threw it in my cup holder, deep breathed and turned in his drive.

I parked, set the parking brake and when I went for my door, I saw the door to Chace’s house open. Chace, in jeans, a shirt and a kickass sweater, was walking out of it.

The deep breathing stopped working.

I managed to grab my bag, throw open the door and jump out. I slammed the door and walked up the cleared path, my eyes to Chace. He was standing at the top of the porch steps following my progress with his eyes at the same time looking outrageously hot. I figured this last wasn’t because his outfit was better than any other I’d seen him in because it wasn’t. Nothing beat the outfit he wore to The Rooster. Not even when I saw the faded jeans shirt in its full glory.

It was because I was hoping I’d very soon see him out of his clothes altogether and I figured it would be a good view.

I kept deep breathing, stopped at the foot of the steps and looked up at all his gorgeousness.

Nervous, fearing I’d pass out, I said the first idiotic thing that came to mind and luckily it was just idiotic and not mortifying.

“Do you like dogs and cats?”

His head jerked and I watched his eyes, warm on me even in the cold night, blink.

“What?”

“Dogs and cats. Do you like them?” I pressed on regardless of the fact it made me sound like an idiot. I’d started down this road. I had to follow it to its fruition. Hopefully, though, it was less a road and more like a short lane.

“Will my answer affect whether or not you’ll come into the house to eat?” he asked back.

“No,” I answered then added a partial truth. “I’m coming in because I’m hungry.”

“Then cats, yeah, if they’re the friendly kind who don’t mind being pet and don’t act like they own you rather than the other way around. Dogs, yeah, without any conditions,” he finally answered.

“I’ve known a lot of friendly cats but I don’t know any who don’t act like they own you rather than the other way around,” I shared.

“Then cats, no,” he amended his answer and continued with his own question, “Baby, you wanna tell me why we’re standing outside talking about cats and dogs?”

I didn’t because a smarter conversation would be about birds and bees.

I didn’t share that.

Instead I said, “I’m thinking about getting one. A cat or a dog, I mean.”

“Is my answer a deal breaker?”

“In what sense?”

“In the sense that if I say no, I don’t like one or the other, you won’t come into the house and eat.”

“I already answered that.”

“Yeah, darlin’, but I said no to cats and you haven’t come into the house yet.”

“Oh, right,” I whispered.

I fell silent.

So did Chace.

He broke it.

“Faye, we’re still standing outside.”

That was when I blurted, “I was leaning toward a cat.”

After that was when Chace threw his head back and roared with laughter.

I liked it but still, I bit my lip.

When his eyes dipped down to me, he said through his waning laughter but he said it gently, “Baby, climb up the fuckin’ steps.”

I climbed up the effing steps.

I didn’t get to the top before Chace bent low and took my hand so the last two steps I did it hand and hand with his.

He started to guide me across the porch to the door and I spied two rocking chairs with a table between them.

White picket fence. Nothing but plains and ranches and mountains all around. It was darkening dusk so I couldn’t see but I already knew the views from his house would be astounding from every angle, the kind you would never get used to.

Those rocking chairs would be perfect to sit in and read for hours in the summer. Or sit next to Chace and do absolutely nothing and be happy doing it.

Somehow, this thought and how beautiful it was made me tug on his hand, turn slightly into him and go up on my toes.

His body gave a slight jerk as if he was surprised but he still stopped with me and bent his head as if he knew I wanted his ear.

Which I did.

Because, into it, I jumped the gun and let it all hang out.

“I brought clean panties and a toothbrush,” I whispered and held my breath, not moving, not even to breathe.

Chace didn’t move either. Not a muscle. I didn’t even sense him breathing.

Oh God. Oh frak. Oh God.

Then suddenly Chace moved and he did it to let go of my hand, bend low and I was flying through the air but doing it safe in his arms, one of them behind my knees, one of them around my waist.

I automatically curled an arm around his shoulders, tipped my head back and I did this last just in time for his mouth to take mine.

Holding me, he opened the storm door and carried me over the threshold kissing me.

So I guess I did it right.

* * *

A phone was ringing.

It wasn’t the first time. In fact, it was the third.

I heard it but I didn’t care. And I didn’t care the other two times either.

This was because I was on Chace’s bed, in Chace’s bedroom, with Chace’s mouth on mine, his tongue in my mouth, his hand down my pants and I was this close to coming.

This had happened fast, starting with the kiss Chace gave me while carrying me all the way to his bed. It was like the kiss he gave me before we went to The Rooster. Wild. Abandoned. Fiery. Exquisite.

Luscious.

But it was more luscious because he was doing it carrying me to his bed.

You couldn’t get more luscious than that.

He kept kissing me as he bent a bit, the light went on and he laid me on my back in his bed, immediately following me in.

I knew he wasn’t controlling this. Not even close. I knew this when his hands went up my shirt and I felt them for the first time, warm skin against skin.

I liked this so I reciprocated, tugging his shirt out of his jeans and my hands pushed inside.

But I liked what they encountered more. Oh my fraking Lord, I liked it a lot more. Hot, smooth, hard with lots of interesting planes and bunches and ridges to trail my fingertips over and discover.

My touch had an astounding effect and that was Chace’s hand gliding from my waist to my ribs and curling around my breast over my bra. Nearly instantly when his hand reached this destination, his thumb slid firm over my hard nipple.

No one but me had ever touched me there and suffice it to say, Chace doing it while kissing me, lying mostly on me, his firm, hot skin under my hands while in his bed sent shafts of fire through me the likes I never experienced. The likes I didn’t even know existed. The likes I liked a whole heckuva lot.

So much I tore my mouth from his on an arched neck, whimpering moan.

This also had an astounding effect and that was both of Chace’s hands going to my jacket and yanking it down my arms. Then he pulled me up and jerked it away, tossing it to the floor.

After it went my shirt.

This might have freaked me out if his mouth hadn’t found mine, my back hadn’t again found bed and his hand hadn’t again found my breast and, last, his thumb hadn’t retraced its path then gone backwards for another swipe.

I wasn’t wrong that the first time was magnificent because the second and third were just as fraking good. So good, I arched my back and whimpered into his mouth, my hands tugging his sweater up.

Chace got the message I didn’t even know I was sending. I would know this when he tore his lips from mine, arched away from me, put his hands behind his shoulder blades, ripped his sweater off and tossed it aside. My shaking hands immediately and instinctively went to the buttons on his shirt. I got one undone before his back bowed, his body shifted, I lost purchase on his shirt, his hand lifted my breast and his mouth closed on my nipple over my bra.

Okay, oh frak, okay, the thumb swipe, magnificent. His mouth, sublime.

My back arched so deep, it left the bed and a low, long, quiet moan rose out of my throat then I had his mouth back on mine, his hand and thumb back at my breast. I got another rough, wild, deep, wet, long kiss and I was already lost. But at his kiss, I knew I never wanted to be found.