He offered her another bite, knowing from previous requests that she wouldn't settle for just one taste. "Would you believe the bakery called it Better Than Sex Cake?"

She licked the corner of her mouth, not wanting to spare even a smudge of whipped cream, caramel, or chocolate mousse. "Oh, God, they're right." She sighed in undisguised gratification. "This is almost…euphoric."

"Do you really think it's that much better?" he asked, his tone dubious.

"In my experience, yeah," she said, realizing too late just how much she'd revealed.

There was a pause, then, "This cake, no matter how incredible, doesn't compare to the real thing… not when you're with the right person."

And her one and only lover obviously hadn't been that right person. Suddenly feeling self-conscious under Ryan's scrutiny, she decided it was time to end their playful game, and reached for the blindfold to remove it from her eyes.

His fingers gently encircled her wrist, stopping her before she could tug the tie loose. His touch was firm, hot, branding her.

"Not yet," he said in a low, sexy voice. "Maybe you'd like more?" His comment was double edged, giving her the distinct impression that he was referring to more than just feasting on the exotically named cake she'd just eaten. "It's right here, Jessie, in the palm of my hand. Just reach out and take it, and the euphoria can be all yours. As much as you like, for as long as you want."

Cocooned in darkness, stimulated by his words and the sexual slant of their conversation, Jessica's heart beat erratically in her chest. He'd issued her a subtle dare, a flagrant invitation… beckoning her to give in to her secret desires and experience just how good sex, with the right person, could be.

She swallowed to ease the tightness in her throat. "I don't want to eat the cake alone," she whispered.

"I don't like to eat my cake alone, either," he said, humor and understanding mingling. "How about we share it, then?"

"All right," she agreed.

Standing between her legs again so she was surrounded by his scent and heat, he took her hand and slowly guided it to the side where the cakes were displayed. She had no idea what he intended, but entrusted herself to him and followed his lead.

She sucked in a quick, startled breath as he eased her fingers into the soft, silky layers of cake-all the way up to her knuckles. His own hand slid along hers as he encouraged her to play in the ingredients and feel the various textures, all of which had suddenly become very intoxicating to her senses.

Her entire body tingled with a strange excitement. "This feels…"

"Arousing?" he suggested.

Oh, yeah, definitely that.She grinned, not sure she was ready to admit just how much his provocative demonstration was affecting her. "I was thinking more along the lines of squishy."

He chuckled. "Then maybe we need to alter your way of thinking." He entwined their fingers, tangled them sensuously, using the mousse, caramel, and whipped cream to lubricate the rhythmic slide of his fingers between hers. He leaned into her, so his lips grazed her ear."This is how good sex feels with the right person… slippery, sensual,erotic."

She bit her lower lip as an illicit, liquid warmth cascaded over her and pooled between her thighs. She had no choice but to believe him. Shewanted to believe that making love could be so thrilling, so impetuous, so rapturous.

Too soon, he lifted his hand from hers, slowly dragging it out of the cake and away. She flinched in startled surprise when his sticky, gooey fingers touched her mouth.

"And this is how good sextastes," he murmured huskily as he smeared the luscious concoction along her bottom lip. "Sweet, heady,euphoric. Taste it, Jessie, and see for yourself."

His sexy words tempted her. Unable to stop herself, her tongue darted out, slowly licking away the confection.

This is how good sex tastes.

His promise rumbled through her mind, and suddenly, one taste wasn't enough. "I want more," she said in a low, breathy voice.

His finger returned, gently pressing down on her bottom lip until they parted and she took him inside the damp heat of her mouth. Removing her own hand from the cake, she grabbed his wrist so he couldn't pull back while she tormented him the same way he'd done to her. Heedless of the mess they were smearing everywhere, she nibbled the chocolate and caramel from his fingers, then leisurely stroked and swirled her tongue along each individual digit in an instinctive, up-and-down rhythm. She felt him shudder and heard him let out a hiss of breath in response.

She heard him swear, felt him try and tug his hand back, but she held firm. Her hunger had become a rapacious thing, and it wasn't for cake and sweets, but for the need to experienceslippery, sensual, erotic sex. With Ryan.

She felt his body shift in front of her, wedging himself more intimately between her thighs, and then his mouth was on hers, urgent and insistent, and she relinquished his fingers for the pleasure of his kiss.

And from there, everything went wild and out of control. He swept an arm around her back and hauled her up against his body, forcing her legs wider to accommodate his hips and the unyielding press of his fierce erection against her aching cleft. They were fused from lips to thighs, and she still wasn't close enough.

Spearing her cake-encrusted fingers into the warm, thick hair at the nape of his neck, she arched into him, opening her mouth wider beneath his to accept the hot, sexual thrusts of his tongue. One of his hands mimicked her move, cupping the back of her head, threading through the hair that wasn't restrained by the blindfold. The fingers of his other hand caressed her jaw, her throat, and skimmed lower until he held the full weight of her breast in his palm. He kneaded the mound of flesh, searing her with breathtaking heat. His thumb flicked across the diamond-hard nipple straining against her cotton shirt, plucked the tip delicately, and a needy moan escaped her.

Feverish desire clawed at her, submersing her deeper under Ryan's spell. Being blindfolded and ravished was like being swept up into a dark, forbidden fantasy. The thrill of it was liberating.

Unexpectedly, he lifted his lips from hers, putting her system in immediate withdrawal. Their breath mingled in rapid bursts, and he threw her off-kilter again when he pressed an achingly light and tender kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Go out with me," he rasped.

"No," she groaned automatically, so used to rejecting him that it had become second nature.

He swooped in for another kiss, this one slower than the last, more persuasive, more possessive. "One date," he uttered once he let her up for air.

Her resolve crumbled a fraction. "Maybe."

He took her under again, thoroughly consuming her mouth until her lips felt swollen and devoured. He brushed his knuckles over her erect nipples, teasing and tormenting her. He moved on, trailing kisses along her jaw. His fingers pulled down the collar of her turtleneck so he had access to nuzzle her throat.

She shuddered uncontrollably at the hot, wet glide of his tongue across her skin, and whimpered as he drew her flesh between his teeth for a love bite.

"Dinner and drinks." His hoarse, urgent whisper scalded her ear. "Say yes, Jessie."

Dizzy from the blindfold, faint and flushed from his sensual assault, she obeyed his command. "Yes."

She stiffened, just as the phone on the kitchen counter rang.

Oh, God, had she really surrendered and said yes to Ryan Matthews?

The phone pealed again. She didn't move, and neither did Ryan, though she could hear his heavy, labored breathing, could feel the virile heat radiating off him, and smell what she now knew was the scent of goodsex… sweet, heady, euphoric.

Silently, she cursed the blindfold that had completely stripped away her restraints and inhibitions. Unable to see Ryan, her feminine wants and needs had taken precedence over the fact that this man before her was all wrong for her.

Her answering machine clicked on, and her voice echoed in the quiet kitchen with a brief outgoing message, followed by a shrill beep.

"Hi, Jess, it's Brooke," her sister said, sounding upbeat and cheerful. "I received an invitation in the mail today for a New Year's Eve party at Ryan Matthews', and I'm assuming you got one, too. I also wanted to talk to you about Christmas. Give me a call tonight at home or tomorrow at the office. Love ya."

The line disconnected, and the answering machine clicked off.

Unexpected guilt swamped Jessica, as if her sister had personally caught her in a naughty act. And she was very naughty for consorting with the enemy, for allowing him to breach her well-constructed barriers. With pleasure infusing her veins, she'd forgotten one important issue while he'd coaxed her into agreeing to go out on a date with him-she didn't like divorce attorneys.

But she liked Ryan. Wanted him. Desired him.

His long fingers slipped beneath the band of silk concealing her vision and lifted it over her head. She squinted as the bright kitchen light pierced her eyes and her pupils contracted. Gradually, her gaze focused. On the man standing in front of her, who was watching her guardedly. On the disarray of baked goods around the table. Crumbs littered the table, thefloor, and her jeans. There was cake and filling everywhere-on his shirt, his face, arm, and hands. She hadn't survived the attack, either. Her cheek was sticky, as were her fingers. And she had a white hand-print on her shirt, outlining her breast.

She dragged a shaky hand through her hair, and winced as her fingers tangled in a clump of frosting stuck to the strands. "What a mess…"she'd made ofthings, her conscience finished for her.