His mouth swallowed the rest of the nonsense spilling from her lips. The kiss was aggressive and needful, his tongue twining with hers, his hands in her hair, his chest atop her breasts. For a long moment, she was so stunned by the kiss that all she could do was give in to the sensual assault. His leg pressed between her legs, hard against her clit, the bunching and shifting of his muscles shoving her step by step closer to the edge of restraint. A stream of moans and whimpers worked their way up her throat until finally she couldn’t stop her hips from dancing against his thigh.

“Nick,” she rasped around the edge of a kiss. “Oh, God.”

“What?” he said, pulling back. He stroked his nose over her cheek to her ear. “What’s the matter?” He eased his thigh away.

Her whimper was full of protest for the loss of him. The sexy bastard chuckled. “Don’t stop,” she managed.

Tracing his tongue around the shell of her ear, he rocked his hips against her nice and slow. “Don’t stop what?”

Becca swallowed roughly, arousal making it hard to breathe, hard to think. “You’re teasing me.”

He chuffed out another small laugh in her ear, casting shivers over her skin. “I am.”

Digging her fingers into his hair, she grasped two handfuls and held tight. “Well, don’t. I want . . .”

Nick’s tongue was in her mouth again, exploring every wet corner and stealing her breath. He pulled back, panting. “What? What do you want, sunshine?”

The nickname tugged her heart into the action, too. Did he realize he said it? “I like when you call me that.”

He bit her bottom lip and tugged, his gaze boring into hers, one eyebrow arched. “What do you want?”

She pulled his wrist from her face and guided his hand to the heat between her legs. With only her panties separating his skin from hers, no doubt he could feel it.

“Jesus,” he ground out, his forehead falling upon hers and those bright green eyes absolutely on fire. “You want to come?”

“Yes.”

Nodding against her face, he whispered, “Yeah. And I want you to come.” He devoured her in a kiss and hooked a thumb in the lacy band of her panties. Slowly, he pushed them down to her knees, then she curled her legs and he pulled them the rest of the way off.

Nick kissed her again, and there was nothing tentative about the way he worked his mouth. The passion with which he tasted her with his lips and tongue, and nipped with his teeth, and caressed with his hands was all-consuming. Appreciative little grunts and moans worked up from the back of his throat, like he was eating the finest meal after a long fast. She was lost to him. “You need this, don’t you?”

“So much, Nick.” Emotion rose up within her, tightening around her throat and pricking at the back of her eyes. She wasn’t sure exactly what caused it, but suddenly she was absolutely overwhelmed with sensation and desire. “I need you.”

He kissed her jaw, her throat, her collarbones, and then he pulled her shirt up and off and exposed her breasts. More of those appreciative noises spilled from him as he drew himself atop her to kiss and lick and suck at her flesh.

His hand dragged downward and cupped her core. The sprinting beat of her heart made it hard to breathe. “Already so wet.” He swiped his tongue over her bottom lip. “Is that for me?”

Jesus. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, for you.”

“Damn straight.” His middle finger sank deep. Throwing her head back into the pillow, she cried out, one hand fisting in the covers, the other digging into the muscles of his shoulder. He fingered her slow, letting her get used to his presence deep inside, and soon she rocked her hips to urge him to give her more. He did. For a moment, he pulled all the way out, then he slid back in with his middle and ring fingers together. The man had big freaking hands, and his fingers stretched and filled her until her blood hummed and raced. He flicked her clit with his thumb, once, twice, and an orgasm crashed over her, catching her off guard, contracting her muscles, sending her flying. She slammed her thighs closed around his hand and arm, hoping she could hold him there forever. He growled. “That one was too easy. Again.”

Dizziness threatened. “I can’t—”

“You will.” Withdrawing his hand from inside her, he pushed her legs open and crawled between them. His big shoulders overflowed the space between her thighs. “I have to taste you.”

He tilted her hips up with his hands and dragged his tongue through her folds. Becca cried out, one hand darting to his hair and holding tight. His tongue was relentless, licking, stroking, penetrating, circling until she was pure overloaded sensation. Too much, too much, it’s too much. But it was like he was in charge of her body and it bent to his will. Arousal shot through her again, more intense, more demanding. He flicked and sucked at her clit and slid his fingers deep inside again. The combination shoved her toward the edge.

Panting and moaning, her body tightened, sensation gathered, and pressure built . . . but then she hung there. For a long moment, she was suspended until she was holding her breath and gritting her teeth.

“Come all over my fingers,” he ordered against her lips. And then he focused on her clit with a series of fast, hard licks. She came in a flash of blinding light that momentarily sucked in on itself before exploding outward in a million pieces. She moaned and thrashed beneath him and finally tugged at his hair to get him to stop.

In a flash of movement, he rose up over her and claimed her mouth in a hard kiss. “I want you, Becca.”

Elation roared through her. “Yes.”

Rising out of bed, he kicked off his jeans and boxers. His cock jutted out, long and thick. His body was lean, strong, all hard planes and cut muscles. Ink marked his skin in more places than she’d previously seen, but then he was rolling on a condom and dragging her hips to the edge of the bed. “I want to be able to see you.” He took himself in hand and dragged his tip through her folds, his face a gorgeous mask of lust and desire. “Sure this is okay?” he asked, his voice a raw scrape.

“More than okay. I want you, too.”

He pushed inside, slowly filling her with a delicious pressure. She moaned, unable to look away from the roiling heat in his eyes. Finally, his gaze moved from her face to where he penetrated her, his eyes absolutely on fire. Something snapped inside him. Holding her hips in a tight grip, he withdrew and thrust, his rhythm hard, fast, almost frantic. The intensity was mind-blowing and sent her flying. She grasped the edge of the mattress to keep herself in place against the demanding pace.

On a groan, he fell forward, bracing himself above her with one hand and grabbing her shoulder with the other, his hips flying. The change in position pushed him deeper inside her and dragged his body tight and hard over her clit. God, the way he moved, like a great wave rolling up over her, covering her, claiming her. She was awash in sensation—the incredible fullness between her legs, his heat on her skin, his tight grip. “So fucking good,” he said, meeting and holding her gaze. His face was all hard angles and utterly appealing. “I can’t hold back.”

She smiled. “Don’t try to.”

Holding her tight, he hammered into her, and then he unleashed a guttural shout and came. His muscles rigid, he moved through the orgasm, pulsing inside her, the ecstasy of his expression one of the most erotic things she’d ever seen.

His whole body went loose and he eased his chest atop hers, his forehead resting on hers with his eyes closed. For a moment, they lay like that, their breathing evening out, their bodies cooling. She stroked her hands over his sides and back.

She would hold him like this all day.

So much for waiting until after all this was over. But Becca couldn’t bring herself to regret being with him, because it made her feel all the more that they were in this thing together.

He kissed her, a gentle show of appreciation, then he pushed himself up and withdrew.

Becca frowned. Because the withdrawal wasn’t just physical. As he dealt with the condom and tugged his jeans on again, he didn’t look at her, didn’t talk to her, wouldn’t meet her gaze. She pushed into a sitting position and hugged her knees in front of her. “Hey,” she said.

“We should get moving. You want the shower first or should I?”

NICK AND BECCA sat on either side of the sketch artist in Miguel’s office as the image of her attacker came to life in black and white. The guy was good—had to give him that. And, thank fuck, because at least something was going right for him so far today.

Rixey shifted in his seat and chanced a glance at Becca, who’d worn a frown on her pretty face ever since he’d shut down on her after they’d had sex. Damn incredible sex. But, goddamnit, he hadn’t meant for that to happen. She’d just been so warm, and sexy, and honest about what she’d wanted, what she’d been feeling. It had felt so good not to be alone. He hadn’t been able to hold back. And he’d done exactly what he’d said he wouldn’t.

Too much stood between them, things he couldn’t and shouldn’t say. And he was far too fucked in the head with grief and loss and guilt. She deserved so much fucking better than that, than him. When his brain had come back online, he’d been so angry at himself he’d barely been able to breathe. Still was. And just like he’d said, Becca was paying the price by being hurt and confused. No fucking hero here, that was for sure.

Problem was, he wanted more with her. Maybe he even wanted it all with her. Bringing her pleasure and seeing her shatter in his arms had given him such satisfaction, like making her happy gave him some kind of meaning in what had become a meaningless existence. If he thought he’d felt close to her last night, it was nothing compared to what sharing her body made him feel.