He felt her hand on his cheek, and he closed his eyes. She was intoxicating, and he opened his mouth and teased her lips with his tongue until she opened to him and he could taste her.

Her body moved against him, and he held her close, moving his hands up to her shoulders and then back down to the small of her back, pressing her hips close to his, soft against him.

When he finally broke the kiss, they were both breathless.

“Thank you,” Allie said unsteadily as she stepped back. “That was very nice. Good night.” She backed away into the bathroom and shut the door.

Charlie sat down on the couch and tried to remember where he was.

He was not going to get involved with Allie. He had a job to worry about. He was going to lay low. He was going to not make waves. He was going to do his job and get out. He was going to forget Allie and get some sleep.

He unbuttoned his shirt and went to find his bag. He didn’t have pajamas, but with Allie flitting about making suggestions, he had to wear something. He found his sweatpants just as Allie came out of the bathroom in a long blue cotton nightgown. She looked very virginal.

“Here are your sheets and things,” she said, putting them on the end of the couch. “Do you need anything else?”

Charlie damped down on his wayward thoughts. “No. Thank you.”

“Good night.” She hesitated, and then she went into her room.

He took his sweatpants and his toothbrush into the bathroom. Don’t think about her, he told himself. He got ready for bed, concentrating on not thinking about Allie, and then he went out to the couch and made his bed, concentrating on not thinking about Allie, and then he got into his bed, concentrating on not thinking about Allie.

It wasn’t working.


* * *

Allie lay in bed and thought about Charlie. God, he was beautiful, standing there in the living room with his shirt unbuttoned. She’d never been turned on just looking at a man before, but he was so broad and beautiful. And dangerous.

If they were on TV instead of radio, she’d make him leave his shirt unbuttoned. Women would be clawing at the set.

And then there was his mouth. Kissing like that should be illegal. Or at least licensed.

She put her hands over her face and groaned. Sleeping with Charlie would not be penicillin. Sleeping with Charlie would be cocaine. Of all the stupid ideas she’d had in her life, this was the stupidest.

Why didn’t she ever listen to Joe?

She turned over onto her side, concentrating on not thinking about Charlie.

God, he looked good. And he kissed better.

She buried her head under the pillow and tried to think about her career.


* * *

Charlie rolled over on the couch. Sleeping with Allie would be wrong. She was emotionally vulnerable right now. By tomorrow, she’d be relieved he hadn’t taken her up on her offer.

Of course, by tomorrow, he’d be insane with frustration.

It was that damn kiss. If she hadn’t asked for the kiss, he wouldn’t be thinking about how soft her mouth was, how soft she was all over…

He rolled over again, trying to think about the anonymous letter and how he didn’t have a clue about what a disc jockey did and how tomorrow night he’d have to do it, concentrating on everything and anything but Allie.

She was probably asleep by now, anyway.

It was thinking about her mouth that was the worst.


* * *

Allie sat up in bed and put her arms around her knees. Not thinking about Charlie wasn’t working. She was breathless with not thinking about him. She wanted him. She physically itched for him. This wasn’t the gauzy need she’d always assumed women felt for the men they lusted after. This was unpleasant and uncomfortable and would require full body contact to satiate.

And he’d already said no once.

Suppose she just strolled out there.

And then what? Took off her nightgown? Did the dance of the seven veils? That would never work. She was a lousy dancer. Production was her specialty, not seduction. Maybe if she made up some cue cards: “Yes, Allie, I’d love to sleep with you. Take off your clothes.”

Right, that would work.

Besides, he was probably already asleep.

She put her head on her knees and moaned softly. She was never going to get to sleep.


* * *

Charlie sat up and put his head in his hands. He was never going to get to sleep. He wanted her so much now, he hrobbed with it. How the hell had this happened?

What difference did it make?

He threw off the covers and stood up.

He’d just knock on her door. She was probably asleep. Then he’d go back to the couch and go to sleep.

Right.

He picked up his shaving kit and pulled out a strip of condoms, shoving them in the pocket of his sweats before he went to her door.

He knocked softly. “Allie?”

“Come in,” she said.

She was sitting up in bed, her arms wrapped around her knees and her glossy brown hair tangled around her face. “I can’t sleep,” she said.

“Me, neither.” He sat down beside her. “You and your one last kisses.” He cradled her cheek in his hand. “Do you still want that one-night stand?”

“Yes,” she breathed, and the heat flared in him.

“Thank God.” He slid his arm around her. “Move over.”

3

Charlie moved pretty fast for a big guy, shoving off his sweatpants and sliding her nightgown over her head while she drew a sharp breath at his touch. The heat flared in her when the shock of his skin touched hers, and he touched her everywhere. She clutched him to her, tipping her head back for his mouth as if the muscles in her neck had given way. His hands moved over her, stroking her back, her sides, sliding down to pull her close to the hardness of his hips, and all the while he tormented her mouth with his tongue. He was everywhere, and wherever he was, there was heat.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered against her mouth, and she clung to him and whispered back, “You.”

He moved down her throat to the hollow between her neck and shoulder, making her squirm as he found the nerve there. He trailed more hot kisses down her shoulder until his mouth found her breast and she forgot who she was. He dallied there, sucking hard until she could feel the pull and tingle deep inside her. She moved against him convulsively, pressing him to her, and he moved his mouth to her other breast and made her moan again.

Allie drowned in the heat; waves of it washed over her as Charlie moved against her. Then his mouth found hers again and he was kissing her hard, his tongue thrusting into her mouth as he pulled her on top of him and pressed her head to his so that she couldn’t escape his kiss. She stretched against him, drunk with desire, and he rolled over so she was under him again and moved his hand between them, lower this time.

His whisper tickled her ear and made her squirm. “You have a beautiful body, Allie. You were made for love.” He slid his hand between her legs and she gasped and arched up to meet him.

“Don’t ever stop touching me,” she said thickly. Her skin prickled, and the pounding came stronger, in rhythm with his hand. “Don’t ever, ever stop.”

But he did, rolling away from her to reach for something on the floor. She heard foil tearing.

“Charlie.”

She struggled to sit up, and then his mouth was on hers again, his hands on her hips, his body against hers. He pulled her under him and then he was inside her, sliding into her, and she felt her entire body clench and throb as he rocked into her, felt herself drawn into the pounding in her blood, in his blood, the pounding everywhere.

“Wait.” She felt herself lurch out of control. “Wait. I can’t…”

“Let go,” he whispered in her ear. “Let go, Allie.”

She clutched at him, and he stared down at her hotly, half in shadow, his eyes glittering as he thrust into her over and over again. Who is he? she thought. I don’t even know him. And he’s inside me.

Then he moaned and his head dropped to her shoulder, and she felt his grasp tighten on her as he slumped over her. She held him to her, rocking him a little, feeling warm and tingly and shaken and relieved and vaguely disappointed.

Charlie rolled off and pulled her close to him.

“I lost you along the way,” he said, still breathless. “What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing.” Allie settled against him, trying not to be annoyed. “That was incredible. You were wonderful.” For a moment, it was like being with Mark again, and she sighed in resignation. Men were obviously not her strong suit.

Charlie held her until his breathing slowed, and then he propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at her, moving his hand up to cup her breast again. “You were with me there,” he whispered. “I could feel it in you.”

“I don’t know.” She tried to smile her usual supportive-lover smile at him, but she was distracted by his stroking thumb. “It doesn’t matter.”

He bent and kissed her cheek softly. “What part threw you off?” He moved his mouth to her breast. “Was it this?” He ran his tongue over her, and her body tightened at his touch.

“No.” She moved against his mouth, her annoyance fading considerably. “No. It wasn’t anything you did.”

His hand moved down and stroked her gently. “This?”

“No,” she breathed, and closed her eyes to concentrate on his touch.

“Allie?” He kissed her until she clung to him, dizzy again.