He tried to speak, but all he managed was a deep groan.

She moved around to his front and pulled on the five buttons of his Levi’s. With the fly open, she took him from his pants and slid her hand up and down the long, hot length of his shaft. With her thumb, she spread the clear moisture she found within the deep cleft across the engorged head of his penis. She lifted her face and kissed him until he pulled back far enough to say against her mouth, “Be careful. That’s loaded.”

“Is that cop humor?”

“No. It’s a warning. I might go off in your hand.”

“We can’t have things going off in my hand,” she said and slid to her knee before him. She looked up at him as she parted her lips and took him into her mouth.

He gasped. “Lucy.” He brushed her hair lightly from her face, then tilted his head back.

She stroked him with her tongue and sucked him to the back of her throat. He moaned, and she pushed his jeans and boxers down his buttocks and thighs. She grabbed his firm behind in her hands and gave him pleasure.

One second she was on her knees, and in the next she was hauled up before him. “I don’t want to get off in your mouth. Not this time,” he said, then he kissed her with all the passion he’d been holding back. He crushed her against his bare chest and ate at her mouth even as he fed her kisses that made her want to climb up him. The hair on his chest rasped her nipples, and his engorged penis pressed hard into her belly.

He pulled back, breathing hard as he kicked off his pants and shoes. He yanked off his socks, then bent to take his wallet from the back pocket of his pants. He tossed it on one of the pillows, then he picked her up and tossed her there too.

“What are you doing?” she laughed as she raised onto her elbows. “I thought you were going to keep your hands to yourself.”

“Fuck that.” He climbed on top of her with his knees on the outsides of her thighs and planted his hands on the pillow by her head. “It’s my turn.”

“What are you planning?”

He yanked at her panties and pulled them down her legs. He tossed them away and slid his hand between her thighs. “I’m going to make you scream like a porn star.”

She might have laughed if he hadn’t placed his hot, wet mouth over hers as he stroked between her legs with his fingers. He touched and teased until she felt she would die if he stopped. But she didn’t want to orgasm without him. Not again.

“Stop,” she said, and he rose to his knees and reached for his wallet. He pulled out a Trojan, then tossed the wallet behind him. She pushed his hands aside and took the condom from him.

“I’ll do that.” She pulled it from the wrapper, placed it on the head of his penis, and rolled it down to the base of his thick shaft.

He rested his weight on one forearm as he positioned himself. Then he slid into her, and she gasped at the pleasure that spread though her body. “This,” she said as she sucked air into her lungs, “is the good stuff.”

He withdrew, then with two strong thrusts of his powerful hips, he buried himself deep. “Lucy,” he groaned next to her ear. “You feel so damn good.” He pulled out, then thrust harder. “Hot. I can feel you through the condom. So good.”

Lord, he was talking. How could she get there if she had to concentrate on what he said instead of…That was her last coherent thought before he tilted her hips up and thrust deeper. “Oh my God!” she moaned.

He pulled out and stroked her spot with the plump head of his penis. “Does that feel good?”

She wrapped one leg around his waist. “More,” she panted, giving over to the feelings rushing through her. “Right there.”

“There?”

“Yes.”

He stroked again. “Yes?”

“Don’t stop.”

He chuckled next to her ear. “Stopping at this point isn’t going to happen.”

He placed his hands on the sides of her face and moved within her, rocking against her with a slow, steady rhythm, pacing himself. With his face just above hers, he stared into her eyes as he moved in and out. She got the feeling he was trying to be gentle or controlled or something. But that wasn’t what she wanted.

“Faster,” she managed and moved with him. Matching each thrust of his hips. He picked up the pace, thrusting faster and harder, pushing her closer and closer with each powerful stab. It didn’t take long before he was as mindless as she, both racing toward completion. She got there first, and as intense waves of orgasm rushed across her flesh, she moaned his name. The walls of her body convulsed around his rock-hard erection as he drove into her again and again, taking her with him until he too felt the euphoric tug and overwhelming rush. He swore and groaned deep in his chest. He thrust one last time, then collapsed on top of her. For several long moments he didn’t move. “Quinn?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“Okay?” A deep, raspy laugh rumbled his chest against hers. “That,” he said, catching his breath, “was the best good stuff I think I’ve ever had.”

She removed her leg from around his waist and slid her hands across his shoulders before her arms fell to her sides. She smiled because she couldn’t help it. He was right. It had been the best good stuff.

Quinn raised his weight onto his elbow, and she lowered her gaze, fearing that what she felt in her heart could be seen through her eyes. He kissed her pleased lips and withdrew from her body. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

He left to use the bathroom in his bedroom, and Lucy rose from the bed. She grabbed her blouse and a new pair of panties out of her suitcase and took the opportunity to use the bathroom a few doors down the hall. When she was finished, she buttoned the blouse over her bare breasts and stepped into her pink silky panties. She looked at her refection in the mirror above the sink. The same mirror she’d gazed into the last time she’d been in his house. She saw a woman who looked like she’d just had sex, but beyond the obvious flushed cheeks and messed hair, she saw what she feared would be reflected there. A woman in love. Madly. Totally. Completely in love. She wondered if he’d seen it and she hoped not. The last thing she wanted was for him to know her feelings. He didn’t love her, and she didn’t want to scare him away.

She pushed her hair from her face and lifted her chin to study the red patch of skin on her chin where his stubble had scratched her. He wanted her. She hadn’t been wrong about that. She’d never been wrong about that, but it wasn’t love.

He didn’t love her and that hurt. It hurt like a red-hot clinker next to her heart. He wanted to be with her. He made her laugh and made her dizzy with his touch. He made her forget about the reason she was staying with him, and for today, that was enough. She would worry about tomorrow…well, tomorrow.

When she opened the bathroom door, he was waiting for her, leaning his back against the wall. His chest was bare and he wore his Levi’s low enough on his hips that it was obvious he wasn’t wearing his boxers. An Irish setter sat at his feet, and he held the dog’s collar in one hand.

“This is Millie,” he said.

She was a beautiful dog, with rich auburn hair and bright brown eyes. Her tongue hung out one side of her mouth as she looked up at Lucy. “So you’re the infamous Millie.” Lucy bent at the waist and scratched the top of the dog’s head. “At least Quinn didn’t lie about the color of your hair.”

“I’m afraid if I let her go, she’s going to try and sniff you.” Lucy held her hand in front of the dog’s nose. “That’s not the part she wants to sniff.”

She looked up into Quinn’s face. “Which is the reason I have a cat.”

“Cats don’t fetch sticks or jump in ponds to retrieve birds.”

“Which tells you how smart they are.”

He shook his head. “Come and watch this.” She followed him down the hall, watching the shadows slide over the smooth skin of his back. In the kitchen, he took a dog biscuit out of the cupboard. “Sit, Millie,” he commanded. Once the dog obeyed, he set the biscuit on the end of her nose. “Stay.” Poor Millie stared at the treat, her eyes crossed, until Quinn said, “Okay.” Then she flipped it up into the air and caught it with her mouth.

“A cat can’t do that.”

“If Snookie wanted to, he could.”

He gave her a skeptical look and scratched his dog’s ear. “Your cat probably can’t move that fast.”

He was probably right. “Are you disparaging Mr. Snookums?”

“He’s fat.”

“Husky.”

“Same thing.” Millie stood and walked a tight circle around Lucy, then sniffed her knee. “No. Sit Millie,” Quinn ordered, and the dog instantly obeyed.

Lucy placed her hands on her hips. “Snookie has an eating disorder. It’s not his fault.”

Quinn chuckled, threaded his arms around her waist, and pulled her up against his chest. “You’re cute when you get all worked up over that fat bag of fur.”

“Hey-” She might have defended Mr. Snookums’s honor if she hadn’t felt a wet nose on the inside of her thigh. “Wow.” She jumped a little and rose onto her tiptoes. “Your dog just goosed me.”

“I knew it was too good to last.” He dropped his hands and moved to the back door. “Out,” he said.

Millie walked slowly toward Quinn, then gave Lucy one last accusing look over her shoulder. “Won’t she get cold?”

“No.” Quinn shut the door behind his dog. “She has a house in the garage, and there’s a dog door leading into the backyard. She’ll be okay.” The overhead kitchen light poured down his bare shoulders and back as he walked to the refrigerator. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Depends on the offer.” She didn’t think she was up for another carb overload.

He opened the freezer. “I got raspberry sherbet.”

“I could always eat sherbet.”

He pulled a carton from the freezer, then shut the door. “There isn’t much here, so we’ll share.” He grabbed a bowl and a spoon and began to scoop.