All that lovely smooth skin that shivered under the pass of his tongue, the scrape of his teeth, was only more of a thrill when the woman urged him to take more.

Her hands rushed over him, tugging at his shut. And the throaty purr of approval as her nails scraped his flesh had his blood burning so he had to fight a vicious war not to hurry.

But he wasnt going to gulp when he could sip.

Where had this patience come from? He would drive her mad with it. How could his mouth be so fevered and his hands so exquisitely controlled? His muscles quivered under her hands, and she knew him, oh, she knew him well enough to exploit his wants and weaknesses. Yet even as he met her demands, even as he pushed her to the trembling edge, he held back and left her quaking.

“For Gods sake, Jordan.”

“Youre not crazy enough yet.” His breath tore out of his lungs, but he pinned her arms down and continued to fuel the flames with his mouth. “Neither am I.”

There was so much of her, and he needed it all. The sumptuous body, the questing mind, and that part of her heart hed lost through carelessness. He needed more than her desire and heat. He needed her trust again, and would settle for a glimmer of the affection theyd once shared. He wanted back what hed given up in order to survive.

He released her hands to embrace her, to hold her tight, tight as they rolled over the bed.

Her skin was slick with sweat, and she was hot and wet and ready. He had only to cup her to fling her over the edge. She sobbed out his name as her body erupted. And he knew when she went limp beneath him shed given him something he hadnt known hed craved.

Her surrender.

“Dana.” He said her name over and over as his lips rushed over her face. When her eyes, so dark and heavy, opened and looked into his, he slid silkily inside her.

It was coming home and finding that what youd left was only richer, truer, stronger than what had been. Impossibly moved, he linked his fingers with hers, gripped tight, and gave himself.

Accepting, she arched to him, then lifting her lips, found his and joined them. The sweetness of it brought an ache to her throat as pleasure built on top of pleasure. They matched, beat for beat, then thrust for thrust when sweetness became desperation.

They were still joined, lips, hands, loins, when they fell. * * *

IT could be, Dana thought as she lay sprawled over Jordan, that she had just experienced the most intense, spectacular sex of her life.

Not that she intended to mention it. Despite the afterglow and the filmy haze of love, she didnt have to feed his ego.

But if she were going to mention it, she would have to say her body had never felt more deliciously used. She wouldnt object to having it used in just that way on a regular basis.

Then again, sex had never been their problem. Wasnt their problem the fact she didnt know what their problem had been? Or was. Or might be.

Hell with it.

“Youre thinking again,” Jordan murmured, and ran a finger slowly down her spine. “You think so damn loud. I dont suppose you could put it off another few minutes, just until I regenerate some brain cells.”

“When theyre dead theyre dead, smart guy.”

“That was a metaphor, a delicate euphemism.”

“Nothing delicate about you, especially your euphemism.”

“Im going to take that as a compliment.” He tugged on her hair until she lifted her head. “You sure look good, Stretch, all rumpled and had. Are you going to stay?”

She cocked her head. “Am I going to get rumpled and had again?”

“Thats the plan.”

“Then I guess I can stick around for round two.” She rolled aside, sat up and raked her fingers through her hair. And when he reached out, she cocked her brows knowingly.

Until he frowned and trailed his fingers gently over her breast. “Rubbed you a little raw here and there.” He scraped his knuckles over his own chin. “If Id known you were dropping by, Id have shaved.”

“I take it „dropping by is another euphemism.” She needed to keep it light or her heart was going to melt right into his hands. “Besides, it was that unshaven, bohemian look that helped get me into bed with you.”

She gave his cheek a friendly rub, then stretched. “God. Im starving.” “Want to order a pizza?”

“I cant wait for pizza. I need immediate fueling. Theres got to be something that passes for food in the kitchen.”

“Wouldnt count on it. Kitchens pretty torn up. Construction zone.”

“A real man would go down and hunt up provisions.”

“I hate when you do that. I always did.”

“I know.” It absolutely warmed her cockles. “Does it still work?”

“Yeah. Shit.” He got out of bed, dragged on his jeans. “Youre going to take what you get. No bitching.”

“Deal.” Satisfied, she lay back down on her side, snuggled into the pillow. “Problem?” she asked when he only stood, staring at her.

“No. Brain cells regenerating.”

Her dimples flashed. “Food.”

“Im on it.”

She felt quite smug as he walked out of the room. Maybe it was just a little small of her to gloat, even mentally, that she still knew how to push his buttons. But it brought her such a nice glow, how wrong could it be?

And it was better, wasnt it, then letting herself get all worried and churned up about what was going to happen next. This time around she would be smarter, enjoy the moment and restrain herself from expecting more.

They enjoyed each others company, even when they were poking at each other. They shared people who mattered, very much, to both of them. And they had a strong sexual connection.

It was the basis of a good, healthy relationship.

So why the hell did she have to be in love with him? If not for that one little thing, it would be perfect.

Still, when you approached it realistically, it really was her problem. Just as it had been her problem before. He wasnt obliged to love her back, and whatever she put into or took out of the situation was her own doing.

He cared about her. She closed her eyes and bit back a sigh. Jesus, that was a sting. Was there anything more painful or lowering than being in love with someone who sincerely cared about you?

Better not to think about it, to turn that part of herself off, as long as she could manage it. She didnt have any illusions this time around about them being together forever, building a home, making a family, forging a future.

His life was in New York, and hers was here. And God knew she had enough in her life to satisfy and occupy her without adding to it by spinning dreams that included Jordan Hawke.

Hed only hurt her before because shed let herself be hurt. She wasnt just older, she decided. She was smarter and stronger now.

While she was trying to convince herself, she stared at his laptop. His screen saver had come on, and was nothing but a shifting spiral of color that was already making her dizzy.

How did he stand it?

As soon as she thought it, she had the answer. It would irritate him enough to push him back to work.

Considering, she sat up. He hadnt turned the machine off when shed interrupted him. He hadnt closed the document… had he?

She bit her lip, glanced toward the doorway.

That meant whatever hed been writing was still on the screen, and if she just happened to give the mouse a little shake, it would pop right up. And if she just happened to read what hed written, what was the harm?

Keeping an ear out for footsteps, she slid out of bed, tiptoed over to the desk. She tapped the mouse gently with a fingertip to flick the screen saver off.

With one last glance toward the doorway, she scrolled back two pages in the document, then began to read.

She was caught up quickly, though she hit what was obviously the middle of a descriptive paragraph. He had a way of pulling you into the scene, surrounding you with it.

And this one was dark and cold and quietly terrifying. Something lurked. By the first page she was in the heros head, knowing his sense of urgency and the underlying fear. Something hunted, and was already feeding off pain.

When she came, to the end of what hed written, she swore. “Well, damn it, what happens next?”

“Thats a hell of a compliment from a naked woman,” Jordan commented.

She jumped. She cursed herself, but she all but jumped out of her skin, which was all she was wearing. And she flushed, which was considerably worse. She felt the heat spread over her as she whirled to see Jordan standing in the doorway, jeans carelessly unbuttoned, hair mussed, a bag of Fritos, a can of Coke, and an apple in his hands.

“I was just…” There wasnt any way out of it, she realized, and so she simply told the embarrassing truth. “I was curious. And rude.”

“No big deal.”

“No, really, I shouldnt have poked around in your work. But it was just there, which is your fault for not closing the file.”

“Which would make it your fault for interrupting me, then distracting me with sex.”

“I certainly didnt use sex just so I could…” She broke off, heaved out a breath. He was grinning at her, and she could hardly blame him. “Hand over the Fritos.”

Instead, he walked to the bed, sat back against the pillow.

“Come and get them.” He reached into the bag, took out a handful, and began to munch.

“Anyway, it was the screen saver. It was making me cross-eyed.” Casually, she thought, she sat back down on the bed and tugged the bag of chips out of his hand.

“I hate that bastard.” He crunched into the apple, handed her the soda. “So, you want to know what happens next?”