It was Dash. The complete and total connection with him.

“That’s it.” He cupped her face, keeping her close to kiss her, lingering as if he enjoyed sharing her breath.

How could he talk?

His fingers tangled in her curls. “You are so hot and wet. Do you know how you feel to me?”

She gave one small negative shake.

“Perfect. Fucking perfect.” He lifted into her, and she moaned with the extreme enjoyment of it. “Do you feel in control now, baby?”

How? How did one simple movement send fire licking along her nerve endings?

“I know you,” he said, as if he’d read her thoughts, knew her confusion and uncertainty. “Every inch of you.” His hand went over her neck, down her back, down, down...and then in, touching her intimately. Eyes narrowed, he smiled. “I know what you like. I know what you need.”

It could almost be scary, being so sexually dependent on someone who had so much physical influence over her.

“And this.” He touched her nipple with just the right amount of pressure, in just the right way.

She almost came. Almost.

Margo knew he so easily judged her response by the broken sounds of pleasure she made, so she tried biting her lip and keeping still and quiet.

With Dash firmly planted deep inside her.

Dash laughed softly. “That won’t do you any good, you know.” He flexed his hips, sending new tingles spiraling through her already sensitized body. “I pay attention, sweetheart. There are so many ways I can gauge what does it for you, even if you deny it.”

She shook her head, still trying to deny the overwhelming way he moved her.

“Yes. Like how pointed and stiff your nipples are.” He touched each one, and his voice lowered. “How hot and wet you are.” His thumb strummed her clitoris. In a nearly soundless whisper, he added, “And how you’re squeezing my cock like a fucking fist—”

Riding against him, Margo came. Loudly. There was no holding back. No tempering what she felt or the explosive way she expressed it. Her body went taut, her back bowing, her thighs trembling around him.

Gripping her hips, Dash met her frantic rhythm, his own urgency finally making him lose control. She was still twisting with her orgasm when he gripped her down tight to him, his chest and shoulder muscles harshly defined. He growled out his release, and Margo felt it all.

Everything.

Because they hadn’t used protection.

Her fault as much as his.

Fading down against him, feeling those gorgeous muscular arms of his wrap around her, she just couldn’t care.

Yet.

Tomorrow, though, would probably be a different story. But right now, with Dash pressing tender kisses to her temple, his big strong hands coasting over her back, keeping her close, it just didn’t seem that important.

* * *

THE STORM WOKE HER. Nestled against Dash, her cheek on his shoulder, one of her legs over his, she slowly opened her eyes.

It almost alarmed her, how entirely right it felt, how safe and comfortable, to be entwined with him. His heat surrounded her, his scent filling her head like a drug.

Outside the window, lightning flashed.

Her next thought was of Oliver. But as she listened, she didn’t hear any scratching at the door.

Carefully she lifted her head to see the clock— 3:00 a.m.

Going by what she could feel, she and Dash were both still naked. Vaguely, she remembered him moving her to her back, going to the restroom and getting a cool washcloth to bathe her. She remembered the gentleness of his touch, his caring as he handed her more aspirin and then kissed her before crawling back into bed beside her, drawing her into close contact with his very fine physique.

Still raised up, Margo looked at him. A little in awe, she studied the breadth of his shoulders, the fine hair under his armpit, the bristly hair on his lean jaw, how utterly beautiful he looked in sleep.

Such a devastating man in every way.

She knew she’d stupidly fallen in love with him. Until she’d felt him coming inside her—without protection—she hadn’t realized just how much she cared. But apparently along with her rigid persona, he’d also stolen her common sense.

Never, not even once, had she ever forgotten to be careful. She was on the pill, only...she hadn’t taken it since the night of the wreck.

Dire repercussions tried to seep in, scrambling her thoughts and destroying her lassitude. She was now wide-awake.

Slowly she drew a calming breath. Maybe it’d still be okay. No reason to borrow trouble yet.

Her attention returned to Dash’s stretched-out body, then his stunning profile. Sexual activity, her fingers and sleep had left his hair badly rumpled. Another burst of lightning showed the shape of his narrow nose, his cheekbones.

That incredible and clever mouth.

Emotion thickened in her chest, pooled in her lower body. There were so many small details about him that appealed to her. She could spend hours just looking at him—

A sudden thought crashed into her and she sat straighter.

Dash stirred, turning away from her and resettling with a deep sigh.

Details.

Taking only a moment to admire Dash’s wide back, the furrow of his spine and how it curved down to lean hips, she slipped out of the bed. Feeling around on the floor, she located the T-shirt he’d given her to wear, and then her housecoat. When she opened the door, it squeaked a little, but he slept on.

Maybe finally getting release had exhausted him. God knew the man was tireless otherwise.

She slipped out of the room and made her way in the dark down the hall. Oliver slept on. The storm had brought a steady rain that seemed soothing more than disturbing. The lightning came without thunder, so it must’ve been far off.

After ensuring the cat wasn’t disturbed, Margo slipped back to her office. She stepped in and eased the door closed behind her before flipping on the desk lamp.

Even now, with work on her mind, she couldn’t completely set aside Dash’s effect on her. Little reminders got in her way, like his scent on her skin, the unfamiliar ache of muscles she seldom used.

The smile that kept trying to play over her mouth.

Sitting in her desk chair, she turned on her laptop and pulled up the internet for a search of car-part dealers in the area.

She recalled seeing the brightly colored, expensive-looking rims on the truck they’d followed. They were unlike any others she’d seen—that had to mean a custom job, right?

If she could research them she could maybe find out where the creep had bought them—and ultimately where he lived. Concentrating, she tried to remember exactly what they looked like. Time ticked by unnoticed.

The search was made more difficult by her stupid splint. Typing was awkward and she had to resort to one-finger pecking to avoid typos.

Later, after the sun rose, she’d also check with Yvette to see if the guy who showed up had those wheels then.

With single-minded focus, she checked every possibility.

For as long as she could remember, she’d had great gut instinct—and right now she had a feeling that something monumental was about to happen.

She would solve this case—or maybe irrevocably lose her heart to Dashiel Riske.

Either way it went, it would be on her terms.

* * *

DASH SAW THE LIGHT under her office door. How long had she been up? He stood there a few minutes, undecided, before finally approaching. The rain came harder and flashes of light continually split the dark sky. The once distant storm moved closer.

Only the sound of muted tapping on a keyboard came from inside her office.

He didn’t knock, only opened the door and saw her sitting there in deep concentration, the blue glow of the computer screen reflected in her dark eyes. Her lashes, long and curling, left shadows on her high cheekbones. He loved her hair, how the wispy little curls touched her cheeks, her forehead, the nape of her neck.

Was she upset that he hadn’t used protection? He still couldn’t believe it. He never forgot. Never.

And truthfully, with Margo, he still hadn’t. He’d known he should stop her, that he should take over and move her aside so he could roll on a condom.

But even before her small hand had wrapped firmly around his dick, he’d been resenting the need for protection. He wanted nothing between them, and so...he’d just given in.

He’d conveniently pushed aside his responsibilities and taken her bareback, and God, nothing had ever felt so good. Electric, hot, emotional and physical and consuming.

Concerned, feeling a little guilty—and oddly horny— he stepped up behind her, putting one hand on her shoulder. “Couldn’t sleep?”

For only a brief moment she rested her cheek against his hand, without losing her focus. “I slept—until the storm woke me.” She glanced back. “You’re like a powerful drug. That’s the best rest I’ve had in a long while.” She turned back to the computer.

Relief, that she wasn’t angry or upset, eased some of his tension. He looked at the screen. “What are you doing now?”

“Researching those rims.”

“From the truck that followed us?”

“Yes. I can’t remember the exact design, but I know they were colorful and unique.”

He’d noticed them, too. “It’s important?” Important enough to drive you out of the bed in the middle of the night?

“If I can find the exact rims, I can maybe find out information on our guy.” Again she looked at him over her shoulder—then down his body, focusing on his semi-erection. “Whoever sold him those rims might have his address.”