“Let me,” he told her, stilling her awkward fingers as she battled the last shirt button.

Even her hands hummed with the same fiery anticipation that flickered over her breasts and thighs and everything in between. She felt like an electric current had been turned on, and the effect was both exciting and numbing.

He’d pinned her against the glass window at some point, her back to the view of Central Park and the city so that she could only see the lights reflected in his eyes. She liked her view better.

She watched avidly as he shrugged out of his shirt, revealing a white tank top underneath. She only glimpsed the undershirt for a moment since he gripped the hem and yanked it up and off. Leaving her mouth dry at the sight of his well-honed arms and chiseled chest. A tattoo with his jersey number had been etched on his shoulder. Her gaze sank down the line bisecting his pecs and his abs to end at his belt. She reached for the leather, wanting to see more.

“I can’t let you get that far ahead of me.” He manacled her wrists with a gentle touch and steered her away from his belt. “First I want to see more of you.”

Her inclination was to shimmy out of her jacket and dress in two seconds flat, but he tipped her jaw up to look into her eyes and kissed her.

The warm, silken glide of his tongue over hers undid her. She relinquished control, giving more of her weight to the glass behind her so he could do whatever he wished. Clearly, his ideas for how to proceed were just…better.

The scent of his aftershave called to all her pheromones, the bay rum seducing her as much as the faint bristle of his freshly shaved jaw. Vaguely, she noticed when he peeled away her denim jacket and smoothed down the straps of her sundress. But mostly, she felt his kiss. He still cradled her jaw like a precious artifact, positioning her where he wanted her for maximum benefit. She’d never felt so treasured, not even by the man whose name she had once shared.

“Lance.” She breathed his name like a wish come true, breaking the kiss long enough to revel in the rightness of the moment.

“Come to my bed.” He held her dress around her, keeping her covered. “I don’t want anyone but me to see what I uncover next.”

The tenderness of that thought undid her. Half the world had seen her breasts, but he wanted to make them for his eyes only, here…Now.

Nodding, she took the fallen straps in her hands and held the dress in place while he led her through a high-tech kitchen into a small study and, finally, a palatial bedroom. A light flickered on at their arrival, treating her to a quick view of a crisp black-and-white domain dominated by an immense mahogany bed.

He dimmed the light with a switch on the wall, narrowing the world to the two of them again. Her feet sank into lush carpet as he tugged off her dress to pool at her feet.

She knew a moment’s hesitation since her body—her nakedness—had caused so much grief. Would Lance look at her now and think of her past mistakes? But like a balm to her soul, the sight of her in her sheer lace underthings only seemed to inflame Lance. He lifted her up off her feet and hauled her to the bed, depositing her into the thick feather ticking while he shucked his pants.

Excitement coursed through her to be splayed out in front of him in no more than a skimpy strapless bra and matching mauve lace panties, her pulse quickening along with her shallow breath. When he paused to reach into a nightstand—presumably for protection—she couldn’t resist touching the formidable bulge in his boxers. Tracing the heavy length of him with her fingertip, she paused at the head of his shaft and encircled it. The shudder that moved through him was visible even in the dim light and she smiled to think she possessed that kind of power over him. Heaven knew he had it over her in spades.

He pressed a condom into her hand, entrusting her to open it as he peeled down her panties. She hadn’t even broken the foil when he nipped her breast through the sheer lace of her bra.

“You’re beautiful.” He tugged the lace down with his teeth, exposing first one nipple and then the other.

She arched up, wanting more of his touch, needing his mouth and his hands everywhere at once. The condom lay forgotten in her fingers until he took it back from her, finishing the job she’d been too distracted to start.

At least, that’s what she assumed he did with it. She was too focused on the luscious spasms that seized her when he drew on the taut peak of her breast. The sensation bolted from her chest to circle her womb and clench it hard. Her skin trembled with longing.

He parted her thighs and stepped between them, his expression intense as he watched her with hooded eyes. With restless fingers, she reached up for him, needing to connect with him in some way until the deeper union that awaited them.

He gripped her wrist tight in one hand and guided her palm to his lips where he kissed it with a fervency that made her quiver. Then, as he kissed her, he aligned himself between her legs and pressed against the slick entrance.

A soft cry escaped her, the pleasure too sharp to contain. Her hips bucked and thrust beneath him, ready for more. Still, he kissed her palm, his tongue stroking an erotic circle along the sensitive center of her hand. The knowing caress could not have been any more effective if he had bestowed the same kiss between her thighs. Tension coiled tight inside, raising gooseflesh all over until she thought she would squeeze right out of her skin.

He never took his eyes off hers as he edged his way deeper inside her, stretching her impossibly while his tongue never ceased the maddening rhythm along her palm.

He seemed to know exactly what that ticklish caress did to her as he increased the speed of it. The touch was so unexpectedly wicked, so sweetly decadent, she had no defense against it.

She flew apart before he even entered her all the way. Her body convulsed around him, and she arched up off the bed in his arms, forcing him closer against her while she came. Release shuddered through her as he pushed his way deep inside her and she’d never felt anything so unbelievably good.

Pulling him down to the bed, she rolled on top of him, needing to have her way with him as she rode the climax through every last lush spasm. Pinning his hands over his head on the bed, she seated herself deep on his shaft. His breath rasped harshly in the soft quiet of the room and she seized on that sound to find the motion that pleased him most. More than anything, she wanted to repay him with the same toe-curling completion he’d given her.

Unhooking her bra with one hand, she tossed it aside and stretched out over him, brushing her breast against his cheek until he nipped her gently with his teeth. Her hair fell on either side of her, draping them in a silken cocoon as she met his every thrust.

She delighted in her power over him as his hips rose off the bed to meet hers. The sleek athleticism of his body gave her the impression that he could give this to her all night, an idea that sent shivers down her spine. Needing to ensure he reached the peak of pleasure at least a few times, she took up his hand and repaid the torment he’d given her in kind. Tugging one of his fingers into her mouth, she drew on the digit hard. His whole body stilled, and she could feel his pulse pounding between his legs, his shaft rock solid within her.

With light, teasing strokes, she licked along the inside of his finger, and as if she’d flipped a switch, his release roared through him. She sealed his hips to hers, absorbing every thrust.

Afterward, his chest rose and fell with the same panting effort she’d experienced. She lay beside him in the dim light, stroking a lazy finger along his shoulder and up his neck to cradle his cheek.

At first, his eyes remained closed, his expression neutral as he recovered from what they’d shared. But then he turned toward his, eyes opening to watch her. Only then did she understand how completely she’d opened herself to him.

One night?

She had damn well shared more than that with him. She’d might as well have handed him a piece of her heart and soul.

Still, it took several hours and several orgasms more for that reality to sink in. And then, in the quietest hour of the night, she started having a bonafide panic attack at the idea of dragging someone she cared about into her world full of tabloid guerilla warfare and cameras around every corner.

“Lance.”

When he didn’t answer right away, she shook his shoulder, hating to bother him, but unable to let the knowledge that she’d ruin his career fester longer than necessary.

“Again?” His hand moved on her hip, automatically reaching for her even when he was only half-awake.

Her body responded instantly, and for a fraction of a second, she actually considered the possibility.

“No.” Coming to her senses, she edged away from him, dragging a sheet with her as she sat up in his bed.

“What is it?”

“I have to go.” She started rooting around the bed for her underwear, thinking maybe she deserved her bad reputation if she would run out on a guy without even kissing him good morning when the sun rose, but damn it, this was for his own good.

“You can’t be serious.” He sat up, but didn’t move to help her find the underwear. Instead, he caught her in midsweep of the bed, pinning her arm to one of the pillows. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“It’s almost dawn,” she argued, certain she could see hints of the sunrise through his blinds. “And if I don’t get out of here before the sun comes up, the pictures of me doing the Walk of Shame back to my place are going to be all the more disastrous for you.”